Mike slapped her again, making her hips rock and squirm. “You love it and you know it. Now shut up and take it.”
The low light glistened between Diana’s thighs and she could almost make out the gleam of her juices running over her skin. Her buttocks were burning beneath Mike’s hard punishment, and her legs were widening, as if bracing herself for the next blow.
It came, fast and savage, and was followed by several more stinging slaps.
Diana sobbed beneath the fabric and her fingers clenched on the back of the couch. “You son of a bitch, fuck me...” she growled.
“Not yet,” he shot back. “When I’m good and ready, not before.”
His arm reached beneath her and she felt something sharp and cold touch her pussy.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she cried.
Mike pushed a paperclip roughly over her clit, extending it out and away from her flesh. He grabbed two more and treated her nipples to the same hard grip.
Diana sobbed and moaned at the harsh pinches.
“You like that, Miss Stiles?” Mike stepped away and surveyed his handiwork as she pushed her head free of the sweater.
Her breasts dangled, their nipples protruding and red as the paperclips held them fast. Her clit was gleaming between her legs as she shuddered.
“You like the way I make you feel. Go on. Say it.” Mike struck another hard spank on her buttocks.
“Yes, yes...” sobbed Diana. “Oh fuck me, yes...”
“You didn’t ask nicely, Miss Stiles.” He rubbed his cock over her reddened ass cheeks.
“P...p...please—“
Mike calmly reached for his back pocket and removed a condom, sheathing himself. “Maybe I will. How’d you want it? Up the ass? Hmm? Up the cunt?”
“I don’t fucking care. Just do it...”
“When I’m ready, bitch. Not before. You want it here, maybe?” He shoved his hand roughly into Diana’s cunt. The force behind it pushed her onto her toes and forced her head down onto the back of the couch.
“Aaaaggh,” she screamed. “Yes, more...do me. Do me now...I’m fucking coming for chrissake—“
Mike wrenched his hand out of her and swiped the juices over his sheathed cock. “You asked for it.”
He grabbed her bruised ass and spread her cheeks wide, thrusting at the tight hole his actions revealed.
With one quick movement of his hips, Mike Dean shoved his cock deep into the willing and waiting ass of Diana Stiles, pounding into her until she screamed and sobbed and shuddered beneath him.
He’d never even removed his boots.
*~*~*~*
“Did you hear something?” Peta paused on the library steps, resting her hand on Max’s arm.
“Like what, honey?” He was busy watching for icy patches, making sure Peta didn’t slip, and wondering how many people were in the library at this time of day. He’d never done it in a library.
A flock of blue jays swooped past. “Oh, it must have been them,” she laughed, watching as they squabbled noisily. “It sounded almost like a scream.”
“If you say so. Come on, let’s get inside and out of this mess.” He pushed the heavy door open, and they walked into the soothing quiet that seems to be part and parcel of any public library.
“Gosh, I wonder if anyone’s here,” she whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” Max whispered back.
“Have to. It’s the law.”
“Hellooo...” His call echoed to the tall ceilings and round the shelves of books that ringed the hall.
There was no answer.
“Well, that settles that,” said Max. He closed the door behind them and clicked the lock.
“What are you doing? Suppose someone wants a book?” Her eyebrows rose in horror. “Or wants to return one, or something?”
“Then they’re out of luck. Let’s face it, Peta, it’s a shitty day. Nobody’s going to be out driving around in this muck. They’ve all got their books or their videos or whatever. We’re closed. Too bad.” He unbuttoned her coat and tossed it aside, following it with his own. “It does mean one thing, however...”
Breathlessly, she stared at him. “What’s that?”
He grinned. “It means we have the library to ourselves. We can—browse—to our heart’s content. Uninterrupted.”
Her lips curled up in an answering grin. “Oh yes. We can, can’t we? I didn’t think of that.”
“Oh I did.” He pulled her against him and rubbed his hips against hers, letting her feel the cock that was hardening by the second beneath his jeans.
“Hmm. I have a feeling that your definition of ‘browsing’ and mine might differ slightly,” murmured Peta, rubbing back.
“Perhaps we can work on establishing a mutual ‘definition’ of browsing.” He dipped his head to hers and ran his tongue around her ear. She shivered in his arms and the little move stoked his inner fires.
God, she touched him. In all the right places and some that felt new, excited, and almost surprised at the sensation.
“Where would you like to start?” Her breath was hot on his neck as she spoke.
“What?”
“Browsing. Where would you like to start? Fiction? Non-fiction? Reference? Or—“ She bit back a groan as he let his tongue trace her neck. “Poetry?”
“Oh definitely poetry,” he murmured.
“It’s...it’s this way.”
With a sigh, Max let her walk away from him to the far corner of the room. She was still limping a little, but seemed to be able to put weight on her ankle. He felt foolishly pleased. As if he himself had been responsible for her healing.
She disappeared between two tall shelves, and he glanced around. There. The light switches. He quickly shut off most of the lights, leaving only the essential ones in the front reception area, and a few high on the wall.
“Er, Max?” Her voice came from the shadows. “How am I supposed to browse if you turn off the lights?”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something, babe,” he grinned.
“Well, you’re not making it very easy.”
“And you’re making it very hard,” he quipped. It was the truth, too. Something about the quiet, musty aroma of thousands of books added to the silence which surrounded them was turning him on. Big time.
Of course, it could just be that he was alone with her. Memories of their night together lurked in his mind, the scent of her was fresh in his nostrils, and he wanted more. Much more.
He trod quietly over to find her, the worn carpet softening his steps and muting the sounds of the outside world. She was at the end of a long aisle of books, idly thumbing the titles, running her fingers over the spines and smiling.
She certainly loved her library.
“Pick one,” he said, making her jump.
“One what?”
“I don’t know. Any one. Poetry. I’ve never been much for poetry. If it doesn’t rhyme with ‘Nantucket’, I probably haven’t heard it.”
She laughed. “There speaks the literary whiz who’s editing manuscripts. Shame on you, Max.”
He closed in, cornering her against the wall, beneath one of the small lights that dotted the room. “Go ahead, pick one. Read something to me.”
Sighing, she reached out, pulling a volume at random from the shelf and letting the pages fall open in her hands.
“Oh...I...er...maybe not this one,” she muttered.
“No, go ahead. I promise I won’t laugh.” He was in front of her now, lightly resting his hands on her hips. Not too close, but not too far. He could see her chest rise and fall as she sucked in air, and felt the slight shudder that went through her as he touched her.
She held the book to the side, catching what little light there was. “Ahem, this is by Sarah Teasdale. It’s...it’s a love poem. Is that all right?”
“That’s good,” he said. “Go on, read some of it.”
“Are you sure?”
He lifted a hand and brushed her hair away from her neck, just brush
ing his lips against the skin he revealed. “Oh yeah, I’m sure. Read, honey.”
She cleared her throat again. “Okay,” she said. There was a definite quaver in her voice.
Max felt his cock harden even more as her scent surrounded him, that wonderful smell that was so uniquely her. He let his hands wander, just barely touching her, but keeping her aware of his presence.
“I am not yours,” she began, voice halting and unsure. “Nor lost in you.”
He slithered his hands down to her waist, brushing her breasts.
“Not lost, although I long to be...”
He unsnapped her pants and slid the zipper down, the ratcheting sound punctuating her words.
“Lost as a candle lit at noon, lost as a snowflake in the sea...Max, what are you doing?”
He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Just adding an interactive component to the poetry. Go on.”
Peta drew in a raspy breath. “You love me, and I find you still a spirit...”
He eased her panties down, dragging them to her thighs along with her jeans.
“Oh heavens...”
“Shhh. Don’t stop. Keep reading.”
“But supposing someone comes in?”
“They won’t. I locked the door, remember? Keep reading.”
She shivered beneath his hands as he caressed her belly and leaned forward, running his tongue over her navel.
“A spirit beautiful and bright, yet I am I, who long to be...oohhh...”
Max’s tongue headed south. He found her mound and the wet softness beneath.
She gulped. “Lost as a light is lost in light.”
He thrust his face into her, hungry for her taste, needing the sweet juices that were liberally coating her flesh. She was hot to his touch, and her moan let him know that his “interactive component” had hit just the right spot. He smiled against her clit and touched it with the tip of his tongue.
She gasped.
“Read on,” he growled.
“I...I...Oh plunge me deep in love...”
He plunged. Deeply. His tongue worked her, flicking from her clit to her sex and back, darting like a mad thing, and making her pant.
“My senses leave me deaf and blind.” Her voice was getting harsh as he kept up his movements, sliding his hands behind her and cupping her cool buttocks in his hot palms. Deaf and blind he could manage. Quite well, to judge by her response.
“Swept by the tempest of your love...good grief Max,” she choked.
“That’s not in there,” he said. “Stick with the poetry.” He lowered his mouth to her again, feeling her tense beneath his hands.
“Max, I’m going to...to...”
“I know. I want you to. Keep reading.”
“But there’s only one more line,” she stuttered. Her hips thrust towards him, and her thighs hardened as she fought to spread her legs wider than her hobbling jeans permitted.
“Doesn’t matter. Go on.” He was a man possessed. His senses were one hundred percent focused on the woman he held, and what he was doing to her. He liked oral sex as much as the next guy, but had often admitted that he preferred being on the receiving end of things. Until now.
Until Peta.
He couldn’t get enough of her. Her taste, her scent, her hot honey, which flowed liberally now, soaking her thighs and his lips. She was sweet and different, and all Peta, and he knew he’d never tire of her. Of this. He was addicted already, and she hadn’t even come yet.
But she was damned close.
“A...a...taper...in...the...rushing...wind...oh God, oh God—“
Max pushed her over the brink and she fell apart, sobbing for air, and coming around his face as he sucked her clit and felt the savage twitching of her cunt as she came.
He buried his face in her, sharing the moment, filled with pride as her body responded. She whimpered and shuddered in his hands as her orgasm rolled over her, her buttocks clenching and her thighs trembling as she let herself go.
He held her, waiting, letting her ride out the tremors as the earthquake inside her body subsided. Then he brushed light kisses along her moist skin, licking her, nibbling on her, soothing her.
He slowly pulled away, and tugged her clothing back up around her, standing at last in front of her, as her eyes opened and blearily tried to focus on his.
He grinned. “I’ve suddenly realized something—”
Peta blinked.
“I do like poetry, after all.”
Chapter Seventeen
Mike Dean sprawled on the couch, watching Diana as she struggled back into her clothing.
“Christ, pass me a tissue will you? I’m all sticky.”
He didn’t move. “Get it yourself.”
“Jesus,” muttered Diana, reaching for the box herself. “How can you be like that?”
“Like what?”
“So damn...damn...cold about everything.”
He shrugged. “About what? You like a good rough fuck. So do I. Doesn’t mean I have to do the lovey-dovey thing afterwards.”
She winced a little as she rested her bruised backside on the desk. “Yeah, but with all this other stuff going on? Your ex-wife was just strangled, for chrissake...”
“So?”
“But...she’s—she was—your wife.”
“Yeah. My mistake. She liked it rough, but other than that, we had nothing going. I got out, she was okay with it. What’s the big deal?” Mike could have been discussing the weather.
“She’s dead. Fucking stone cold dead. Strangled. And I’ll bet the cops are looking for you.” Her voice changed slightly. “Did you do it?”
“Shit, no. She was my ex, remember? What would I want to strangle her for? And if the cops want me, they’ll just have to find me. ” He grunted. “They ain’t smart enough to look here, that’s for sure.”
She chewed her lip. “And yet you came to Mayfield after you got out of jail, right? She was here...”
“Sure she was. We met, we talked. We even fucked once for old times sake. But I had no interest in her, and she had none in me. So she’s dead. Tough. Happens to us all eventually.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking piece of work, you know that?” Diana shook her head.
“And that’s why you like me around, remember? You, and that piece of political crap, Sharp.” He allowed a small, cold smile to cross his face. “Who else you gonna get for a three-way, Miss Stiles? Don’t seem to be too many folks around here who’d do that and not let on about it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And are you planning on letting on about it?”
He rose to his feet. “Dunno.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “If the time is right and there’s something in it for me. Who knows.”
“Mike, you wouldn’t...I...I...”
“You’ll what? Make it worth my while?” He stared at her. “You ain’t got enough cash to buy my silence, Miss Stiles. Now Sharp, on the other hand...” He moved to the back door and grabbed his jacket. He turned and gave a short laugh. “Don’t sweat it. Wouldn’t do me any good to go broadcasting it around town.”
She released a sigh of relief. “Where are you going?”
“What’s it matter to you? I got someone to see. But I’ll be back, as that big guy says in the movies. I like your ass too much. I like the way you fuck. Not many women can take it like that and give it right back. Next time you’re gonna suck me off, you got that?”
Diana sighed. “Sure. As long as you can get it up again and fuck me with it, I’ll stick it in my ear if you want. I like the way you fuck, too, Mike, if it’s of any interest to you.”
“It’s not.”
He closed the door behind him, leaving one rather sticky and exhausted woman alone. A smile spread over her face as she lifted her skirt and rubbed her hands over her buttocks.
*~*~*~*
There was a not-dissimilar smile of satisfaction creeping over the face of Peta Matthews at that same moment, as she curled up on Max Wolfe’s lap in the Mayfield Lib
rary.
They’d found the large and very comfortable chair customarily occupied by Struthers, and had settled themselves into it with a minimum of fuss and bother, fitting against each other like two halves of a puzzle.
Peta sighed. “I don’t know quite what to say.”
He nuzzled her hair. “About what?”
She snorted. “You know very well about what.” She sighed. “About what you just did to me. I’ve never...I mean no one’s ever...”
Max pulled back. “You mean no one’s ever gone down on you before?”
She could feel the color spreading across her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze, unable to meet the question in his eyes. “Not like that. Not the way you do. Did. And never in a library.”
He grinned. And there it was again. That gigawatt smile that lit up every circuit in her body, and made her heart thump madly.
She had to turn away, before she did something monumentally silly, like smother him with kisses or fall in love with him or something.
Bloody hell. Where had that thought come from?
In an effort to distract herself, she turned idly to the desk and noticed the dull glow of the monitor. Struthers’ computer was on. The screen was dark, but the system was up and running.
“Look. The computer’s on. I wonder...” She leaned over and grabbed the mouse. Sure enough, as soon as she touched it, the screen flickered to life. “You know, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do, but with all the stuff going on, and work too, I haven’t had the time.”
“Yeah, me too,” murmured Max, stroking her back.
“Well, yes, of course. Um, that too, but hang on a sec...let me see...” She clicked through to the Internet access and located her favorite search engine.
Intently, she typed in a few letters as he rested his chin on her shoulder and watched. “Mike Dean, huh?”
“Yes, just a minute...here it comes...” A screen full of links appeared.
“Are we trying to play Miss Marple here?” His jaw dug into her skin as he spoke.
“Certainly not. Well. Maybe. Just a little. I’m naturally curious.”
He chuckled, jiggling her on his lap. And that other hard thing that was pressing into her thighs and severely distracting her. She sighed and returned her thoughts to the screen, narrowing her search.
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