by Cari Quinn
No mystery woman could know him like she did. No one else could make him laugh when he was on the verge of going crazy, or make him go crazy when he was pissed and freaked out that something irreparable had gone off kilter with them.
She was chaos in a bottle, a tornado in pearls and Prada. And he loved her immeasurably.
Sliding his hand from her neck to her breast, he cupped her flesh, rubbing his thumb over the tiny jeweled bar in her nipple. “New jewelry?”
Letting out a shaky exhale, she nodded, and his fingers stopped moving inside her. “Yes. New everything.” She scooped a hand through his hair, her expression intent.
The fact that he saw that same focused expression on Charlie’s face every day as she tried to scale the sides of her playpen made his chest contract.
“New mindset, new hairstyle, new me. I don’t want to always be so rigid. Hell, I can even deal with your Odd Couple ways in the bathroom. Being Felix freaking sucks.”
He blinked, then grinned. “Babe, you’re the only one who can reference old TV shows while I’m trying to get you off.”
Not that he was at that exact moment. But he had been, and he would be again shortly. Once she got whatever was on her chest out in the open.
“They did a remake so it’s not old anymore. Technically,” she said distractedly. “Anyway, it’s not fair to you. Or to me.” She gripped his cock, giving it a long, possessive stroke. Without thought, his fingers resumed their relentless assault on her pussy. “I want us to be the way we were before. Messy, chaotic, unpredictable. Together one-hundred percent. Always.”
Throat tight, he scraped the pad of his finger over her clit. Slow and sure, determined to make her break. “Always,” he murmured.
His thrusts sped up while he offered her clit the rough flicks she loved. Whatever it took to make her go over.
He waited until he knew she was so close, hovering right there. Swiftly, he stretched out and pulled her toward his face, quieting her noises of frustration with the hard clamp of his hands around her thighs.
“Shh. I’m going to give you what you need.”
She made another noise then, winding her fingers through his hair and yanking him right against her heat. Flexing against his tongue when he speared it into her, again and again.
He pushed aside the dangling strips that remained of her decimated panties—luckily, the belt part that held up her hot as hell garters remained—and delved deeper between her folds, not content until she saturated his face. He slipped a finger between her cheeks, then two, well aware from the press of her legs against the sides of his head and the rocking of the bed that she was doing some serious gyrations.
They might just end up losing their security deposit on the room. That was a charge he’d willingly pay.
Fucked holes in the wall? Yes, sir!
His mouth curved as he sucked in a breath then dove deep for more. She scraped her nails over his scalp as he ate her, swallowing every drop of goodness she gave him. That she tasted like them was even more thrilling.
He’d been there, inside her. And he would be again, soon.
So freaking soon.
He worked her from behind while he worked her from the front, pressing his luck that she could take just a little bit more. When he was sure she was about to flood his tongue, he nudged her back, ducking out of her way as she lashed out in impatience.
She did not appreciate being denied an orgasm not once, but twice. It was probably fitting that the song on the radio was “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.”
But he was about to make up for his sins and then some.
He caught her around the waist and flipped her onto her stomach, then grasped her luscious ass and one curvy, stocking-covered thigh as she tried to scrabble away.
It was all just for show. She wasn’t going anywhere.
When he pushed her legs together and straddled them, brushing the tip of his cock against her tight pucker, her moan was one of relief, not irritation.
He’d gotten her primed for whatever way he wanted to take her. She was totally his.
“Which way you want it, baby?” He gripped a handful of her hair and moved his mouth close to her ear. “You want me to go back to eating your pussy until you come? Or you want me inside of you, soaking you again? Or…” He let the word hang between them as he nudged his dick against her cheeks. “Your call.”
Almost imperceptibly, she bounced back against his cock. He was still counting his lucky stars—and trying to calm down his eager erection—when she scooted forward, tugging him with her as she reached for the nightstand drawer on the opposite side of the bed.
After a quick fumble inside, she came back with two things. A little vibrating egg and a tube of lube.
He nearly wept for joy.
“Now it’s Christmas,” he said reverently, taking the items from her while she laughed with him.
Okay, at him, but same difference.
“If you don’t fuck me—”
“The problem with threats is you have to be able to back them up.”
“Oh, I could. I could make you waste that perfectly delectable hard-on in your hand.” She shot him an arch look over her shoulder. “I could also make you watch as I do this.”
He frowned. “Watch what?”
She flipped the cap on the lube and drizzled some on her fingers. Then she cupped the egg, saturating it.
“You are a truly evil woman.”
It got worse. So much worse. Because she picked up something else that had fallen to the bed out of his view, a cord attached to a remote. She plugged one end into the egg and raised her hips. He groaned as she slipped her hand beneath her torso to push the lubricated egg into her pussy.
Shamelessly, not caring if he had a heart attack.
“I told you to move faster.” Then she grabbed the remote and turned it on, flashing him the dirtiest smile he’d ever seen. “But if you just want to watch…”
He plucked the remote out of her hand and played with the myriad buttons—since when did sex toys require a degree in rocket science?—until she was moaning and bracing her hands on the bed.
“Don’t,” he warned as she tried to sneakily slip a hand between her legs. “That egg stays right where it is until you can’t move, you’ve come so hard.”
“And what? You just sit there and enjoy?”
She sounded breathless, on the verge of losing it. He wasn’t about to miss out on being inside her when she went wild.
“No.” He reached around her to grab the lube now half under her body, pausing long enough to tweak her pierced nipple. Her hiss made him smile with grim satisfaction as he opened the bottle and squirted some on his cock. “It’s been a while since I’ve had you like this.”
“Before tonight, it’s been…a while since…” She stopped to breathe. “You’ve had me at all.”
“Consider that rectified.”
He coated her rosette with lube, sliding in one finger so deeply that she tossed back her head. With the other hand, he used the remote to lower the intensity of the egg, causing her to gasp. All the while, he pumped his finger—then two—in and out of her tight hole.
Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her spine. “Ready for me?”
“So ready.”
That her tone was as aroused as his own only made this moment that much more satisfying. She wasn’t pretending to be into this for his sake. She enjoyed the same filthy things he did.
Shame on him for not remembering that every time he’d let his stupid concerns keep him from loving her the way she needed to be loved.
He wouldn’t forget again.
Fisting a hand in her hair, he dragged her head back at the same time he pushed his cock into her snug hole. She let out a whimper, the sound intensifying as he forged deeper. He could feel the vibration of the egg inside her pussy, separated from his erection by only a thin membrane, and the sensation made him surge forward.
She moaned, and he gentled his hold on her ha
ir, immediately contrite. “Sorry. I’ll pull out.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
Even without seeing it, he knew his smile had to be feral. The expression of a wolf scenting its one true mate. “Harder?” he asked.
She reared up, taking him farther inside without his help. He groaned, already lost.
She was so frigging hot. So his.
When she reached back to yank him forward by the hair, clashing her mouth against his, biting so hard he tasted blood, he groaned again. His girl was so frigging dirty, just like him.
Somehow he gathered the strength to reach around her and toy with her jeweled nipple, tugging it with every stroke. She bucked against him, her hair slapping him in the face. God, she was riding him so good. He was supposed to be in charge, and she just arched her back and took what she wanted.
While he slipped his hand down her belly to furiously rub her clit, she stretched her arm back to slice her nails along his hip. He welcomed the quick hit of pain. Craved everything she did to him and more.
Tugging on her lower lip, he stared into the vast pools of her eyes as they worked each other. He might be fucking her, but she was fucking him right back.
When she started to shudder, he growled and jerked on his handful of her hair. “One,” he said while she quivered through her orgasm, her ass tightening precipitously around his length. “You get one with anything inside you but me.”
He spanned his hand over her quaking pussy, trapping the vibrating egg and the sensations inside her for one more moment. Then he yanked it out by the cord and replaced the toy with his fingers, driving them into her without hesitation at the same time as he continued his shallow strokes into her ass.
Shallow enough that she moaned for more.
“On your back.” As he pulled out, they both gasped. “Gotta see your face. Gotta see everything.”
She moved into position awkwardly. Hair in her face, catching on her kiss-swollen lips. She lifted her legs, but she wasn’t going fast enough for him.
He needed to finish inside her. Again. No matter how many times he did it, it wouldn’t be enough.
Grabbing her feet, he drew her legs wide. She held the pose, panting, eyes so wide that he could see the nuances in them even in the shadowy dark, scarcely lit by the tree.
Or maybe he just knew what her eyes would hold at the moment he pressed his cock against her ass. Hunger, trepidation, the slightest edge of fear. Above all, trust.
And love. Always love, the way it was supposed to be between them.
That love and his endless desperation to have her flavor in his mouth had him lowering to the bed. He gripped her firm ass in both hands, lifting her pussy to his mouth.
She was drenched. Inferno-hot. At the first swipe of his tongue, she flexed her legs, bowing up. Giving him more of her, grinding her slit against his lips.
Still, it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t suck on her flesh hard enough to sate the beast inside himself. Couldn’t slip his tongue in deep enough or get enough of her taste on his lips.
She fisted her hands in his hair, yanking fiercely. He countered by tongue-fucking her until she was practically sobbing.
Teetering on the edge of orgasm again.
“Sadist,” she whispered as he rose to his knees and aimed for his target. She gave way easier to his invasion this time, but she still shuddered from the pressure.
She wasn’t the only one shaking. Christ.
He inched deeper and she drew her knees closer to her chest. Her purr of pleasure nearly did him in.
Going slowly or not, he had to be hurting her. He wasn’t a small guy, and they hadn’t done this for a while before tonight. But the noises she made belied anything but sheer unrelenting need.
Grasping her leg, he drove her upward toward the pillows, sinking in as far into her snug passage as he could go. As far as she would take him. She tipped her head back and shocked the hell out of him by coming again, just like that.
One fucking stroke.
“Goddamn, I love you.” He rocked forward, testing the limits of her flexibility and his own control. Greedily, he inhaled gulps of her apple soap and the aroma of her arousal, equally as sweet.
All the while, he pressed into her, trying to take care, not to pound into her like an animal, but she was crying out, scraping her nails over every bit of his flesh she could reach, her sounds only becoming more desperate the faster he rutted into her.
If he’d ever had skill, he’d forgotten it. There was nothing but her snug, hot body cradling the unbearable fullness of his cock.
She was his salvation. The relief he sought. Hell and heaven bound together until all he could do was fuck her, on and on while her cries crowded into his head and chased away everything but pleasure.
Everything but his Lila reaching down to get herself off again, knowing it would be enough to spur him to do the same.
“In me. Now.”
That was his Lila, commanding him even while she was at his mercy. And fuck if it didn’t work. Her demand turned his crank so hard that he couldn’t hold back another instant. Couldn’t stop the roar from leaving his chest as he erupted, spilling himself inside her.
Her body contracted again around his, and all he could do was ride it out. Savor every second.
“That yoga paid off. You twist like a damn pretzel for me. So fucking hot.” He bit the top of her breast, not caring if the marks imprinted her flesh. She was his, and the whole world needed to know it.
Especially her.
Still half crazed, he stroked into her again. “Wanna fucking get your name tattooed on my dick.”
“What?” She wheezed out a laugh, turning her head away. “You’re crazy.”
He bore down against her, earning her broken moan. He grasped her chin and brought her mouth back to his. Feeling as if he was drowning without her taste, he sucked on her upper lip and stared into her eyes in the near dark. Her heartbeat thundered against his own, still stampeding crazily. He was panting, and sweat dripped into his eyes.
He’d never felt better in his life.
“I may be crazy, but I’m yours,” he rasped, and she nodded. And slapped his ass.
“Damn straight you are. Even if you killed me. Monster cock.” She exhaled. “Jesus.”
He laughed so hard he couldn’t remain lodged inside her. Much as he hated to go, he pulled the rest of the way out, well aware of the mess they’d made. Later. He’d clean it up later.
At that very moment, he had to cuddle the hell of his warm, not always-so-snuggly wife.
Right then, she was. She damn near purred as he loomed over her, enfolding her in his arms. With one hand, he dragged up some of the covers, trying to pull the knotted sheets over them to make their own blanket fort. Shutting them in and the whole world out—
The door to the connected suite—Simon and Margo’s suite—slammed open. “All right. You’ve had your fun.” Without warning, the room lights flashed on, nearly blinding Nick and making Lila shriek and burrow farther under the covers.
Simon stalked toward the bed with a horrified Margo on his heels. “Care to explain yourself, asshole?”
Chapter 6
Lila turned her head away and closed her eyes. Maybe then this nightmare would end.
The one where she’d just finished having marathon anal sex with her husband only to still be panting through the afterglow while one of the men in the bands she managed crashed into their suite.
Simon, of all people. Nick’s best friend. The man who happened to be married to her best friend, who just happened to be standing at his side.
From the brief, agonizing glimpse Lila had gotten before she closed her eyes, Margo was almost as traumatized at what she’d seen as Lila felt.
She couldn’t imagine what she must look like. When she and Nick fucked, they fucked. Hands everywhere, welts dug into skin, bruises, hickeys, the whole nine yards. Her eyes felt grainy and hot, and she knew her supposedly smear-proof makeup had to be all over he
r face.
And she was naked. So very naked, minus her fishnets, garters, and what remained of her decimated panties.
Oh God, she’d just slapped Nick’s ass. The ass he currently had proudly in the air as he fought to slap his way free of the covers he’d just pulled over them while simultaneously protecting her modesty.
What modesty? If they’d been interrupted a minute earlier, they would’ve been caught mid-stroke, for God’s sake.
“Yeah. Take that.” Nick huffed out a breath. “Think you’re so freakishly hot in bed, Kagan. I don’t fucking think so.”
Oh my Lord. Was he actually using this moment to engage in a pissing contest with Simon about sexual prowess? If so, he better be prepared to do some serious apologizing once they were alone again.
On his knees. For hours.
Lila hunched her shoulders closer to her ears and slipped lower in the cloud of pillows. Maybe they couldn’t see her face.
Then she gulped and blinked through the snarled strands of hair shielding her cheek.
Red hair.
Hell, did Simon think Nick was with someone else? Someone not her?
She barely resisted a growl, and this time it wasn’t because Nick was still posturing with Simon without addressing the fact that hello, she was naked. And hello, she was Simon’s freaking boss.
Well, one of his bosses. Sort of.
She slapped a hand over her nipple as Nick launched himself backward, belatedly throwing a blanket over her head. Choking her with dust and who knows what else. She’d seen that special about bedbugs last week and—
Now she was rolling around, wrapped in cotton like a loosely bound mummy, coughing her head off and Nick and Simon still. Had. Not. Finished. Arguing.
“Are you an idiot? Big deal, you got some random chick off. What about your wife, huh? Do you remember her? Or did you lose all your brain cells while you were making this needy babe squeal?”