Skin

by Karin Tabke

  “Your tits are begging for me.”

  She nodded. They throbbed, heavy, overly sensitive. One of the most sensitive areas on her body and Reese stimulated her to the point of combustion.

  “When was the last time you were properly fucked in living color?”

  “Never.”

  “Tell me what’s so exciting about seeing yourself getting fucked.”

  “Everything.”

  She licked her lips, straining against the ties. He hadn’t moved toward her but stood next to her and looked sideways at the mirror, where they both watched her breasts pierce the air when she arched and writhed.

  Reese walked to the other side of the bales so that he looked directly into the camera and could see both of their images reflected there.

  “Watch, Frankie,” he whispered as he knelt down beside her. She turned her head and caught his gaze in the mirror. A flush stampeded across her skin, leaving goose flesh in its wake. Reese laughed low. “Can’t wait, can you?”

  She twisted, her wrists pulling against the fabric binding. Reese slid a large hand over the small of her back, his gaze never leaving hers in the mirror. Stretched out as she was, the indentations of her ribs stood out. His fingertips traced each one, beginning at the one nearest her waist. His fingers brushed the bottom swell of her right breast and she strained, the points sitting up high.

  “Your tits are magnificent.”

  Not taking his eyes from hers, he lowered his mouth to the back of her rib cage and ran his tongue the length of her back. She strained against the ties, wanting to turn, to feel his mouth clamp down on her breasts. His lick turned into a kiss and his kiss into nibbles. The waistband of her jeans stopped his downward trail. His hand slid around to her hips and Frankie trembled. Her thighs parted.

  “Not so fast,” he whispered against her skin. His hand slid around to the front, to her fly and lower. Then he pressed his open palm against her mound. Frankie moaned and jerked against the pressure.

  “Reese,” she moaned, “take my pants off.”

  His mouth trailed to her neck, nibbling, teasing, tormenting. She couldn’t arch high enough, demanding in her bound state he touch her more thoroughly.

  Reese had his own ideas. His hand rested on her mound, rubbing slowly, painfully slow across her, and when he bit into the soft flesh behind her ear, Frankie felt like she was going to faint. Her nether lips swelled, her pussy throbbed, moisture made her ready. Reese’s hand moved faster and more firmly.

  Her hips twitched in rhythm. His right hand slid beneath her shoulders and around to cup her breast while his hand swept her into an orgasm. His lips never left her neck.

  Wide-eyed, her mouth gaping for air, Frankie watched Reese play her body, the thrill of watching herself come at his hand more intoxicating than any drug. She gasped and pulled hard against the binding, the fabric tightening, but she needed to; the pressure building up in her body needed release.

  “Now, Frankie,” Reese hoarsely demanded against her neck before he sunk his teeth into her flesh. She screamed, her orgasm opening her up like a rose blooming in fast forward. Her hips jerked against his hand, and his finger tortured her nipple.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the delicious racking sensations coursing through her body. His hand slowed, his lips loosened, his hand on her breast relaxed. She wanted more.

  Reese moved away, and Frankie opened her eyes, feeling exposed. “Untie me.”

  He shook his head no and reached down to the corner behind her head. She heard the uncorking of a bottle, then the slow, sluicing pour of liquid. Reese held up a glass of deep red wine and took a long sip. He held it out to Frankie. She lifted her head and he tipped the glass for her to sip. When she pulled her head back, he trailed the bottom of the glass down her jaw and throat, then between her breasts, where he tipped the glass; warm wine sluiced between her breasts, then down her sides. She jerked against the bindings.

  “Sorry,” Reese whispered. “Let me get that.”

  He set the empty glass in the straw and licked what was left from her skin, being sure to get each straining nipple. Frankie twisted, wanting to give his mouth more of her, but he toyed with her, giving her just enough of his mouth to leave her wanting.

  She almost cried in relief when she watched his hand slide down to the top button of her jeans. She raised her hips, offering him help he didn’t need. “Not so fast, Frankie.”

  “Yes, fast, please, Reese.”

  His hand stopped and his eyes caught hers in the mirror. “Please,” she said, “hurry.”

  “Hurry?” His fingers unbuttoned the second button, and he slipped a finger between the fabric and her skin. “Your skin is on fire, Frankie.” He traced a short path of kisses along her throat. “I bet you’re wet too.”

  He slid his fingers back to her belly, and she whimpered. He unbuttoned the third button, and then the fourth. “One more button, Frankie, one more button to your hot button.”

  He slipped his hand down her belly, touching her soft, damp curls. The tip of his middle finger tapped her hardened clit and she gasped. “Oh, Reese.”

  His breath blew hot against her skin. “You are so hot and so wet, I could slide right into you.”

  She pressed her hips against his finger. “Inside, Reese.”

  Reese focused on the here and now, not the future. Here and now was Frankie — hot, bothered, and sexier than any woman had a right to be. The future? He pushed thoughts of it out of his brain. Tonight he would pretend they’d ride off into the sunset tomorrow.

  He slid his hand down further, finding her lips warm, swollen, and wet. He inserted his fingertip into her and moaned as she hissed in a deep breath. Her scent wafted up to his nose and Reese tamped down his urgency to strip her and take her from behind. His dick swelled to capacity and he found it more than difficult to keep his pace slow.

  He wanted to devour her, to consume her, to ingest her, and then do it all over again. Her scent called to him, and his lips trailed down her belly, lingering at her belly button. Her smooth, silky skin was addictive, her hip bones cradles for his hands. He pushed her pants down further, exposing more of her. He rubbed his nose across her soft, downy fur, inhaling her sex. Frankie’s soft, sexy moans brought his blood to boiling. He pulled her jeans down to just above her knees, her pussy glistened with desire. He blew hot breath across her hard nub.

  She gasped, gulping for air. “Reese.” Her hips twisted, her back arched, her body writhed.

  His tongue lapped lightly at her clit. “How bad do you want it, Frankie?” he whispered across her damp curls. Her body twitched; he looked in the mirror and found her eyes riveted to him. He smiled and in a long, deep lap he dug his tongue into her. It was what she craved. She cried out and her hips shook.

  “Oh, God, Reese,” she moaned, “I need more now.”

  “How much more?”

  “All of you, please, don’t torture me.”

  He pulled her jeans down a bit further. “How is this?” he softly asked, sliding a finger slow and deep inside of her. Her vaginal muscles clamped around him, pulling him deeper inside.

  “That feels so good.”

  “I know.”

  He slid his finger in and out in a slow, seductive rhythm, the soft slurp of her juices exciting him. He laid his head down on her belly, his lips just inches from her pussy. He caught her eyes before he buried his face between her thighs.

  A sharp, hard orgasm ripped through her, and Frankie felt like an invisible force had grabbed her, picked her up, spun her around, then slammed her into earth. She wanted to open her thighs and give Reese more room, but her jeans at her knees kept her immobile.

  When he slid in a second finger and sucked her clit, she came undone. Wildly she bucked against him. Her hands had gone numb, and for the first time in her life she felt completely and utterly out of control.

  Wave after wave of pleasure ripped through her body, and she still wanted more, it wasn’t enough. She wanted a connection with him
that only intercourse could give her. As she twisted away from his mouth, his fingers slid from her. “I want you, Reese, not your fingers, not your mouth.”

  He sat back and caught her eyes in the mirror. Her long body drew taut in her excitement, tits firm, high, and lush. In all of his years of whoring, in all of his years of womanizing, in all his years of bed hopping, he couldn’t remember being so attracted to a woman as he was to Frankie. She exuded sex and she wanted him. Her dark eyes beckoned him, promising him the ride of his life. Or the ride to end his life.

  Reality hit him square in the chest.

  Roughly he pulled her pants down to her ankles, then yanked off her shoes; her pants followed. She licked her lips in anticipation.

  He jerked his shirt over his head and kicked off his boots. His eyes held hers as he unbuttoned his jeans. He didn’t take them off, only pushed them down to his thighs.

  Roughly he slipped his arm beneath her waist and twisted her over so she was face-down in the blankets. She cried out, surprised. He pulled up her hips, settling his hands on each side of her hips. The smooth, round curve of her hip bones fit his hands perfectly. He spread her thighs with his right knee.

  He spread her cheeks with his hand and turned her hips up, her pink, wet lips glistening in the lantern light. He glanced at the mirror to see his dick jutting up hard at her ass. From between the thick strands of her hair, he knew she watched too. He bent over her, his dick sliding up between her ass cheeks. She moaned and pushed back. He swept her long hair from her face and trailed his fingertips down her throat to her breasts. She arched her ass, rubbing against him.

  “Reese,” she pleaded. Taking her hips into his hands again, he reared back and rubbed the tip of his cock against her swollen lips. She pushed back and caught him. He groaned and fought the urge to thrust deep into her.

  He ran a finger down her spine and withdrew his dick from her. She moaned and pushed back against him. Like a guided missile his cock dug into her. This time deeper. He hissed in a breath and pulled back. His eyes locked in the mirror with hers and he saw in their depth, a challenge to make him succumb.

  Frankie rotated her hips in a circular movement, her cheeks brushing against the head of his dick. She slipped a leg back, locked it around his thigh, and pushed back harder against his cock. The head slid up her ass, and with the lubrication she gave off, the head of his dick slid into her.

  She gasped, “No, Reese, too much.” She pressed her hips forward, trying to unhook her leg from his thigh, but he grabbed her harder, steadying her.

  He knew he was too big to go deeper. But he kept the head firmly inside to give her something, but more to keep him from plunging deep into her pussy. He wasn’t ready for that — yet. He slid a hand around the soft curve of her ass. She pushed back against him and gasped as he went deeper into her. His finger slid up to her clit and he dipped into her hot box.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “All of you.”

  His finger delved deep into her and she straightened up on her knees as he hit her sweet spot. Her orgasm was instant. His finger rode her out and his cock went an inch deeper. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He withdrew from her, and she cried out.

  He steadied her thrusting hips with his hands, luxuriating in the velvety heat of her skin. She slid her leg back again, and while he tried to get his desire under control, she seized the moment. Her slick labia slid along his shaft and she pulled forward just enough to tip his cock. She spread her thighs wider and caught the head at her opening. As he surged forward just for a taste, she clamped her thighs tight around him and pushed backward, impaling herself on the length of him. He gritted his teeth and gave in to the sublime feel of her velvety heat.

  “Frankie,” he moaned. He gathered her tighter to him and with his hands on each of her hip bones, he sank himself as deep into her as he could. He felt her muscles quiver, her womb vibrate. Her skin sweltered.

  Frankie watched the hard play of muscles along Reese’s long arms as he pulled her toward him, holding her close as their bodies became one. His tan skin glowed bronze in the low light of the lantern, and the sight of his power possessing her made her heart ache. Her body arched against his, and she began the slow, rhythmic dance of passion.

  When his eyes opened she paused. His fierce stare unnerved her, his power excited her.

  “Move, Reese, slow and deep.”

  He did, and she took every inch of him in and out in the slow, long, deep thrusts. She could see in the mirror he fought it, each thrust a thought, a conscious decision, one that his body made, not him. Frankie closed her eyes and pulled him along with her, giving him no choice but to go with nature. She felt it the minute he made the switch. His fingers dug deeper into her hips and he held her closer, and his thrusts came deeper, more languid, savoring.

  She met him thrust for thrust, skin to skin, heart to heart. She was in too deep to do otherwise, and she knew in her heart he was too.

  Reese’s eyes closed and she watched the play of emotions cross his face as their bodies parried and engaged. It was all she could do not to lose herself in the moment, but she wanted to watch him as their bodies met, then separated: the curve of her hip, the thrust of his cock, the sheen on their bodies, the way her body pulled him in only to give him up, then take him back, deeper, hotter, faster.

  Frankie moaned, aroused by the visual of his cock thrusting in and out of her, their bodies hot and healthy, mating; the sublime sensation only he could deliver crested. A smooth sheen of perspiration erupted and Frankie cried out. Her body quivering, her womb constricting wildly, her release complete.

  “Jesus, Frankie,” Reese groaned as his body followed her to the ultimate fulfillment.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  For a long moment they remained as one, their heavy breaths blowing steamy into the cool air of the stall. Frankie’s breasts heaved as she drew in deep breaths.

  Reese slid a large hand down around the curve of her ass and squeezed her.

  “Untie me,” she said, her voice hoarse. She swallowed again to coat her dry throat. Reese reached over her and released the shank from the hook. Frankie slowly pulled her arms close to her body and moved away from Reese, his still full cock slipping from her. She gasped and felt empty. She rolled over onto her back and brought her hands down in front of her.

  Reese sat back on his haunches, eyeing her warily.

  “What?” she asked.

  He shook his head and yanked her hands toward him. Too drained to fight his surly action, she allowed him to untie and unwrap his shirt from around her wrists.

  “I thought guys were always nice after sex.”

  He grunted and lay down alongside her. Wrapping the blankets around them, he edged closer to her, but not enough so that their bodies touched.

  She rolled on her side, facing him. “What’s bothering you?”

  “You.”

  “Me?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Well, clue me in.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t like being lied to.”

  She smoothed her hair back from her face. “That makes two of us.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “And since it’s obvious we don’t trust each other, let’s not dwell on it,” she said.

  “Just like that?”

  She sighed. “What do you want from me, Reese? A confession?”

  He remained silent.

  “What do you want me to confess?”

  “The truth.”

  She shook her head and pushed away from him, pulling another blanket around her shoulders. “Can you be specific?”

  “Tell me about your father.”

  She stiffened. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “Tell me about yours.”

  It was his turn to scowl.

  “See?” she said. “Some things are better left unsaid.”

  “What happened between you and your father?”
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  She felt her chest tighten and her eyes warmed. “When he didn’t go for my idea to convert Skin, I told him I was going to go to my uncle for support. He accused me of betraying him. I didn’t back down. He told me I was dead to him. So I told him he was dead to me.”

  “Who killed him?”

  “How did your sister die?”

  His jaw drew taut. “My sister is none of your business.”

  “Neither is my father yours.”

  She moved to leave their warm cocoon, but Reese curled long fingers around her arm and pulled her back. “Stay.”

  She turned back to see his face. It was a difficult mask to read. His eyes glittered angrily but she knew he wanted her there.

  “You don’t like to be challenged, do you?” she asked.

  “Not really.”

  “You’re a control freak, Reese. If you can’t have your way, you try to muscle it. And then if that doesn’t work, you coerce.”

  “Did I coerce you?”

  “Yes, you did. But as it happened, I wanted it.”

  He pulled her close to him and finally she could feel his body heat. “Yeah, you did.”

  “Okay, so that’s two of my fantasies you’ve made come true. You’re going to get yours in the morning.”

  He raised a brow.

  “Remember? You wanted to wake up after sex and find the woman gone, no demands?”

  “You can’t leave.”

  “I can and I will. I’m tired of running. It’s not my style. I’m going to find my father’s will, and then I’m going to confront Anthony.”

  “You’re not leaving.”

  “Do you want Midas to die? Or even your friend Amy?” She wouldn’t be responsible for their deaths. Or Reese’s.

  “They will never find you here.”

  “They always find their mark.”

  “The only way they can find you here is if someone tells them. I’m not going to, and Midas and Angie have no idea what’s going on.”

  She pulled away and he pulled her back. “It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving. I’m not running anymore.”

  She yawned and realized she felt exhausted.