“I’ve just got to taste you.” As he spoke, he took his fingers from her pussy and brought them to his mouth.
She had no control over her traitorous body and felt the moisture pool at her center as he tasted her dew.
“Mmm, mighty fine.”
With a burning need, she plucked at the buttons of his shirt, slipping them open. He glanced up, treating her to his dazzling smile, so warm and shining. Although it was raining outside, it was like the sun had come out in their room, bathing her in a golden glow. She smiled back and peeled the shirt from shoulders, broad and sun bronzed to a deep tan. Her fingers trailed across his pecks, then tweaked a nipple before sliding down the inside of his jeans.
He caught her hand. “No, honey, this is all about you. I want to concentrate on you, make you come first.” He pushed her legs apart, widening her stance with gentle persuasion.
Before she could protest, he’d parted her folds and put his mouth to her pussy, lapping her sex, turning her on. She gasped, clutching his shoulders for support, her legs wobbly, threatening to give way.
His tongue felt so good she was reluctant to move, but she didn’t want to end up in an unceremonious heap on the floor either. “Whip, I’m going to fall.”
In one quick motion, he tumbled her onto the bed and draped her legs over his shoulders, leaving her spread wide and vulnerable. Quick as a thought, his mouth was back on her pussy. His spiky moustache caressed and teased, each tiny hair a prickle of sensation, a jolt of pleasure.
A diaphanous mist of pure bliss drifted over her as he licked and stroked her with his talented tongue. She’d never had a man with facial stubble go down on her before. Normally it would take her a while to get there, but the absence of her own body hair and the combination of his spiky moustache heightened and intensified the pleasure to such a degree it caught her unawares and she came with a scream.
Jessie Rose’s vociferous orgasm had Whip so hard he could punch in nails. He kept lapping, loving the flavor of her as residual tremors shook her body. God, she tasted good, sweet and soothing, like vanilla ice cream on a hot day. A taste he’d never tire of.
As she relaxed, he lifted his head and crawled up her body. “You taste so fine, Jessie Rose, I could do that all day long and never get tired.” He picked up her hand and pressed her palm against his denim-encased steel erection. “That’s the effect you have on me.”
Her hand cupped his groin, and she gave him a playful squeeze. “You promised me a ride, Cowboy, and it’s time to deliver.” She flipped him onto his back, unzipped his jeans, and with more haste than care shoved them and his briefs down his thighs.
His erection sprung up with a life of its own.
“My God, Whip, you weren’t lying, you are hung like a randy stallion. That thing’s huge!”
The amused glint in her eye heated his blood, and he imagined he must be coloring up like an overripe tomato. When he’d written all that shit during their sex play, he’d never envisaged for an instant they’d go toe-to-toe. But he hadn’t lied. The McGregor men were renowned for the size of their equipment.
He’d no sooner toed off his second boot when she straddled him. He reached behind her, unclasped her bra, and watched with eagerness as she shimmied out of the scrap of lace.
Her big breasts spilled free, creamy, voluptuous, sex goddess breasts he wanted to bury his face in. But before he could, she tugged on the ribbon and released her hair from its confines. The strands fell in wavy disarray, one long silken waterfall of chocolate that draped her shoulders. With a shake of her head, she flicked the curtain of hair over her back, giving him an unimpeded view of dark pink areoles and nipples that stiffened and jutted out under his admiration.
As if by rote his hands moved to fondle her magnificent twin mounds, but before he could tweak a pebbled bud, she raised a hand.
“No, Cowboy, this is my show, you’ve had your turn.”
Her slender hand curled around his cock as she spoke.
“Relax and enjoy,” she ordered, pushing against his chest as he attempted to rise.
He’d always been the dominant partner, but letting her run the show was novel, so he gave in out of curiosity and a need to please her.
As he leaned back against the pillows, she took him in hand and stroked him from root to tip. Her twinkling blue eyes never left his as she pumped his cock. Then she winked, and he stared, mesmerized, as she lowered her face.
Feather-light and delicate, a mere whisper of dragonfly wings, her lips massaged, working their magic and reducing him to liquid heat. He hadn’t realized he’d groaned until she lifted her head, and he saw the mischievous glint appear in her eyes. He grinned, but when she massaged his balls, and her mouth took an extra-long pull, his eyes rolled back and he almost flew off the mattress. Crikey. Another second of that action, and he’d shoot straight down her throat and that wouldn’t be cricket, not without permission. Besides, he wanted to be tight up inside her the first time he came.
With care and purpose, he nudged her off his groin. She glanced up and viewed him with inquiring eyes.
“I want you, babe,” he explained, rolling her onto her back.
Twitchy as a teenager about to get laid for the first time, he reached into the bedside table and took out one of the condoms he’d placed there the night before.
She stole it from him and ripped it open with her teeth. “Allow me,” she crooned, propping herself against him and sliding the latex along his entire length. “I’m all yours, Cowboy.”
A cloudy mass of dark hair spilled like satin across the pillow as she lay back against the linen. Pliable. Totally fuckable. A sacrificial lamb offering herself up on the altar of his desire. He shucked his jeans and briefs and then split her thighs with his big body. “You’re beautiful,” he said, nuzzling her swanlike neck. And he meant it, too. She was beautiful and his for the taking.
Her mouth parted under his kiss. It was a bruising kiss, a kiss of dominance and submission, a kiss that had her quivering beneath him as he thrust his tongue into her sweet cavern.
Familiarizing himself with every contour, every nuance of her body, he mapped the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips with his hand. His fingers traced patterns over the smooth naked spot where the tattoo marked her skin. Lower and lower, they moved until he dipped the longest one into her sex. Bliss. Tight and hot; wet and ready. He slid out of her, and she whimpered, “Please, Whip, don’t torment me.”
“Tell me what you want,” he invited.
“What?” Her pink tongue swiped over her parted lips. The simple gesture had him pulsing. She was unaware of the effect she had on him.
“You know, like you did in your e-mails,” he coaxed.
“Oh no. I can’t do that.” The pitch of her voice rose. She shook her head and looked away.
“Baby.” He took her chin in his hand and turned it to face him.
Her eyes came back to his. “Whip, don’t make me. I was embarrassed enough typing the words.”
He was having none of that. No way, Jose.
This called for a bit of gentle persuasion. His cock prodded her opening. He wanted the words, the sex play, the whole shebang. He nudged the blunt head inside her and rotated his hips.
With a deep sigh, she lassoed his neck, trying to pull him in further, but he was stronger and held back, prolonging the game. “Well, Jessie Rose?”
“Noooo, I can’t say those words out loud. When I was twelve, my mother washed my mouth out with soap for saying damn. E-yewh, I can still remember the taste. I haven’t cursed since.”
Her frustration was evident, and he almost gave in after hearing that story, but he was a selfish son of a bitch, and a small glimmer in her baby blues prompted him to hold out for the whole nine yards.
He rotated his hips again, pushed in a bit deeper t
hen pulled out. “If you want what I’ve got here, honey, you’ll say the words.” He heard the confidence in his voice, his words smug, his grin lopsided, and his wink cheeky.
“Darn it, Whip, don’t play games.”
“I like games.” He could feel the devilish grin widen and spread across his face. “The words, Jessie Rose.”
She opened her mouth, but the words stalled on her lips. Her brow puckered. The seconds ticked like thunder while he waited for her to speak. The silence lengthened and he began to think he’d pushed her too far, but then she took his face in the palms of her hands, snared his eyes with a bewitching glint and held them fast. He couldn’t look away even if he’d wanted to. Her delicate pink tongue darted out and swept over her bottom lip, making it glisten with moisture. He held his breath and waited, hoping she’d cave in to his demands.
“Fuck me, Cowboy.” It was an order not a request. The tip of his staff resting against her pussy reared up at her words.
“Put your cock inside me now.” Her voice got firmer as she warmed to the game.
Dutifully, he pushed the head between her slick folds again and slid into her a controlled inch.
“All of it, every rock-hard throbbing inch.”
Her hot sheath sucked at him, and he fought the urge to ram his rigid length into her welcoming folds, to give her what she’d demanded, but he forced himself to wait for more.
He wasn’t disappointed.
She gave him a siren’s smile and demanded, “Pleasure me, Whip. Fill me, stretch me, until I can’t take any more, then ride me like you would an out of control stallion. Show me no mercy. Just fuck me long and hard until we both explode.”
That was the invitation he was waiting for. “Oh, you got it, babe.”
The mattress shifted under their combined weight as he plowed into her. The hot wet slapping of flesh against flesh, his heaving grunts and her moans were loud in the otherwise silent room. Her heels dug into his back as she wrapped her legs around him, and if possible, he slid in further, his thick thatch of springy hair cushioning the thrust of bone against pubic bone as he rode her like a bucking bronco. Her pointed little nails found purchase in his shoulders, sending shivers of pleasure radiating through him. Surprised that the sharp bite intensified his already-building orgasm, he sank his teeth into her neck and sucked until they both went off like Krakatau.
Chapter 6
Jessica collapsed against Whip like a wrung-out rag. Her orgasm was cataclysmic, astronomical, out of this world. Beautiful, like sunlight trapped in a glass prism, it held every color of the rainbow, every hue, every shade. Her body hummed with residual pleasure. She knew he’d be good the moment she’d clapped eyes on him, but just how good she hadn’t known until now. His initial taunted withdrawal when she refused to play the game had left her feeling deprived, bereft. The words were profane, and she hadn’t thought she could say them out loud, but when she’d gazed into his beseeching eyes she couldn’t deny him. She hadn’t counted on the effect it would have on her though. The first words she uttered sent shivers and tingles dancing along her spine, her senses heightened. The rest came easy. It was empowering to have a younger, big, buff, alpha male hanging on her every word, to do her sexual bidding. Hers to command.
A mindless, boneless, bundle of contentment, she rested dreamily in the crook of his well-defined, tanned arm, one hand caressing his belly.
“That was one hell of a ride, Jessie Rose.” His voice, languid and deep, slid over her like warm brandy custard over Christmas pudding.
“And you’re one hell of a Cowboy.” She snuggled into his side, her voice soft, muffled, and drowsy.
Whip kissed the tip of her nose and eased her out of his arms. “I’m going to get rid of this condom,” he explained.
“Ah-huh.” She felt his fingers skim her left breast, pause at the center, and tweak. Her eyes snapped open. The rough calluses on his hands felt wonderful on her sensitive nubs. “That feels exquisite. Like moonbeams dancing on a silver sea or misty rain on a hot summer’s day.”
“That’s the first time my fingers have ever been likened to moonbeams. Must be the romance writer coming out in you.” He chuckled, rising from the mattress.
“You inspire me.” She fluttered her eyelashes, rolled onto her other side, and demanded, “Just hurry back Cowboy, I need some more personal attention.”
“Whatever you say, honey. I’m yours to command.”
When Whip re-entered the room, it wasn’t a great surprise to see Jessie Rose had fallen asleep. He’d flown to the States on business a number of times, and the East Coast was a real slog, particularly when you had to change planes in LAX and wait for connecting flights. Combine that with all their exercise, no wonder she’d dropped off. He didn’t have the heart to wake her. Instead, he drew the cover up over her, filled the electric jug with water, and waited for it to boil. Next he made a cup of tea, helped himself to a couple of the complimentary biscuits, and began to read.
Jessie Rose was still in The Land of Nod when he closed his book a couple of hours later, and that was fine, but after having sat still for so long he was restless and thought perhaps a quick walk around the city might be good. A glance out the window showed thin streams of silvery water streaking the panes in rivulets so that idea got shelved.
He smelled like sex, and although the aroma was inoffensive, he decided to head for the shower and freshen up. Besides, the football would be starting soon and with a bit of luck he’d be able to catch some on the television.
When he emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, he dressed in clean clothes and settled on the bed next to Jessie Rose. Still asleep and looking adorable, he toyed with waking her but then figured she must need the sleep so switched on the set and turned the volume to low.
It was the NRL grand final and he’d been looking forward to it all season. When Jessie Rose e-mailed her flight dates, he’d thought what the hell, it’s only a game. After they’d had sex, he thought the gods were pleased with him. But now with the game started, and Jessie Rose still sleeping, that confirmed it, he was definitely in heaven’s good books.
But Ten minutes into the second half with his team one point down and him on tenterhooks, Jessie Rose woke up.
An unfamiliar buzz tugged at Jessica’s subconscious. She stirred, yawned, and, lithe as a cat, stretched, rolling onto her back as she did. Her eyelids fluttered open. Disoriented for the briefest second, she blinked rapidly, then awareness hit her like a flash flood. She was in a Sydney hotel room with her Internet lover, and they’d just had the most exquisite sex.
“Hi, sleepyhead. For someone who wasn’t tired, you sure went out like a light.”
“Sorry.” More than a little self-conscious, she rolled to her side and draped her arm across his waist. “How long was I asleep for?”
Hair damp and now dressed in chinos and a white button-down shirt, Whip was leaning up against the headboard watching sport. The low hum of the television must have been what disturbed her.
Whip glanced at his watch. “Near enough to four hours.”
“Four hours!” Her jaw fell open. “Whip, I’m so sorry.” She bolted into a sitting position.
“No apology necessary.”
The bedcover he must have draped her with slipped to her waist. She reached to retrieve it and cover up, but his hands were quicker.
“Don’t do that, babe, I’m admiring the view.”
She’d had boyfriends call her pet names before, sweetheart and sugar, even honey, but no one had ever called her ‘babe’ before. It gave her goose bumps and made her want to throw her arms around her waist and hug herself with joy.
Her moment of rapture was short-lived, though. Nature was calling. Problem with that, she’d have to cross the room with her flabby, hail-damaged bottom wobbling like a bowl full of jelly. Not a
pretty sight. In fact, she’d have to say a definite turn-off.
“I have to, ah, use the bathroom.” Her voice was low and had a sheepish edge as she made the announcement.
“Behind that door.” Whip pointed across the room but didn’t swing his eyes back to the television as she’d hoped.
The big guy didn’t get it so she’d have to spell it out. “Either lift your butt off the bedspread so I can use it to cover up, or shut your eyes while I cross the room.”
He quirked an eyebrow and folded his arms. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Is a little privacy too much to ask?” She squirmed and wriggled in the bed.
Obsession Down Under Page 5