by Candy Sloane
“Reece is going to kill us.” Val laughed.
“Fuck Reece.” Alec slid his tongue along her neck and urged his cock in to her with more force. “Feel how hard I am for you. What I’m going to fuck you with when we get back to our room.” He tilted his head back so he could see her big brown eyes. Craving the moment when his next words hit her, made her clit throb and her abdomen ache. “The only thing I’m thinking about is your tiny black shorts and lacy panties down around your ankles, your pink pussy stretching around me as I take you deep.”
Her gaze darkened with desire.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Dirty Girl?”
Her answer came in the form of her hands slipping down from around his neck to the curve of his shoulders, to the sensitive bones at the base of his spine. Her demand came when she snaked them around to his stomach. Her fingers tormented the muscles of his abdomen. She toyed with his belt buckle as she drove her pubic bone into his cock.
“If you don’t stop teasing me, I’m going to fuck you right here.”
She laughed, sticking a finger under his shirt and feathering it along the hair that led into his pants. “I’m pretty sure you want this to last longer than the two minutes it takes to get up to the fifth floor, don’t you?” Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks.
He certainly did, but he also wasn’t going to waste a minute of the one time he could fuck her, either. And if she was in the mood to tease, he was going to tease.
He upped the ante, slipping a hand down her shorts, beneath her panties, slicking his finger against her silky skin. Fuck, he wanted her now. But he also wanted to see her, all of her, lying naked and waiting for him, spread open on that beautiful white bed.
He found her clit and twirled his fingertip around it. “I’m going to make sure your pussy is all juicy and swollen for me.” He stuck a finger inside her.
She squealed that same squeal of fear, delight, and need he recalled from the closet. That sound was the sound he was chasing. He thrust his finger into her again and she pressed her lips against his shoulder, muffling her cry.
“You like that, Dirty Girl?”
She moaned into his shoulder, her strangled breath the only answer he needed to hear.
“You are so tight.” He continued to slide his finger in and out. “My cock is wailing to be inside you.”
The doors opened with a ding as if luck were answering his prayers.
He stepped back so she could gather herself, while he tried to put himself together, too. He would keep this a secret. He would obey her every rule.
But God, did he want to carry her to their room with her legs wrapped around his waist, kissing her until both of them became so lost that only the touch of the other would help them to be found again.
“Oh no,” Valerie groaned as they stepped out of the elevator.
He noticed the cause of her distress. The housekeeping cart was parked in front of their room, a vacuum blaring inside.
Fuck.
“We forgot the necktie.” She attempted to smile. She took a deep breath even though he could sense her whole body shaking at the speed of a rabbit’s heart.
No. Nothing was getting in the way of fucking her, this minute. Soon was not good enough. Now was the only choice.
“Ice and vending?” he asked, indicating the sign on the wall.
“Are you serious?”
He pressed his lips to her ear. “I know you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you since last night. Do you really want to wait any longer?”
It came out bolder than he’d intended, but it was better than his real thought. I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you since last night, and I am not waiting one more second.
She paused and looked from their room to him and back again. Maybe he’d gone too far.
“I can’t wait any longer,” she admitted, her eyes sheepish.
Had he ever heard sweeter words? He dragged her down the hall in the direction of the arrow on the vending sign, anticipation making him lightheaded.
They arrived at a fluorescent-lighted alcove. An ice machine and a Coke machine stood rumbling on either side of them.
It wasn’t ideal. But there was a door they could close. They had enough room if they stood. “What do you think?”
She considered their surroundings. He should have just slammed the door and started up with her again. He was trying to be polite, and his question was going to make her bail.
“I’m more of a Pepsi girl”—she smiled slyly—“but what the hell?”
Surprise filled him, but was quickly extinguished by yearning as he closed the door and set his sights on her. “I’m going to make you a Coke girl.”
She glanced at the closed door.
He pressed the back of his body against it. “No one is getting in here.” He would keep that promise, but his position made it so she would have to come to him. “Get over here so I can ride that first rule out of you, Dirty Girl.”
Instead of complying, she pushed the button on the ice machine and took a few cubes into her hands. “Remember when we would slip these down each other’s shirts?”
She made her way over and he pulled her in. “It’s not a memory anymore.” He took a cube from her hand and shoved it down the front of her shirt.
She shrieked and jumped back. “You are not getting away with that.” She slipped the rest of the ice under his shirt, and he yelped.
He attempted to steady his breathing as she slid the ice along the muscles of his stomach. Ice-cold water dripped into his waistband, steaming his hot skin.
“You are asking for it.” He popped a piece of ice in his mouth and slicked it against her neck and shoulders. Her body shuddered beneath the force of his cold tongue. He spit what was left across the room and used his teeth to pull the straps of her tank top and bra down.
“You might be able to do more with your lips than even I can,” she breathed.
He ran his ice-cube-cold mouth over her already hard nipples. “You have no idea.”
She arched, pressing her tits farther into his mouth as the rest of the ice cubes dropped to the floor at their feet. He continued to lick and suck at her, only taking a break to allow her to pull his shirt over his head. Before he could continue, though, she undid his belt, unzipped his fly.
Fuck, if he’d wanted her before, the fury with which she wanted him made his erection pulse. He moaned as her cold hands flitted over his abdomen and the V of his revealed boxers.
“You like that?” she asked, imitating his talk, and he was glad, because fuck yeah I do.
“Oh yeah, I like that a lot. How about you stroke my cock with one of those ice cubes?”
She paused.
“We get to tell each other what we want, remember?”
She nodded, went to the machine for a refill, and put her hand down his pants. The cold of the ice cubes against the blistering skin of his cock and her squeeze and tug at just the right pressure was taking him to the edge.
“Damn, have you done this before?”
“This, yes,” she replied, hot in his ear. “Against a vending machine? No.”
“Well.” He reached for the button on her shorts. “I think it’s time to tick something off your bucket list.”
She pulled his pants down before he could get to her shorts. His cock bobbed, grateful to be free of his jeans. He was so hard it poked through the hole in his boxers.
She appraised his girth. Her eyes on him were almost as hot as her hands had been. They widened then glinted in focus.
She licked her lips. “I have something else I want to tick off first.”
Oh fuck, he was pretty sure he knew where this was going. She kneeled in front of him, and he braced himself against the door.
She was lip level to his cock. It throbbed for the relief of her mouth slicking against it.
“Sucking me off was on your bucket list?” he managed.
“It’s a recent addition.”
She pulled his bo
xers down, slipped an ice cube into her mouth, and took him in, her lips hot and her mouth cold against his cock. She pulled back, sweeping her pink tongue along the tip, his rigid shaft still wet with her saliva.
“You know what they say about flute players, don’t you?” she asked, taking the base of him into her hand.
He wanted to respond but he couldn’t. His eyes were open but everything was black. Her breath against him, her lips that tight and firm and close were too much. He’d thought he was in charge of this, but fuck had he been wrong.
She owned him right now.
She took him into her mouth again, the cold making his legs shake and strain. She worked him slowly at first then took him deeper, so deep his head hit the back of her throat.
Whoever said that about flute players was right. Her mouth was a master at any instrument it played. If he didn’t take the power back, he was going to melt into a puddle on the floor with all that ice.
He anchored his hand on her ponytail to steady himself. Her expert lips slicked him faster, bobbing up and down the length of him. He was within minutes of coming, spraying hot against the back of her throat. While he wanted to, wanted her to suck him off and swallow everything he gave her, he wanted to come inside her more. He wanted to see that pussy. He wanted to fuck her now.
He drew her off of him. Her eyes glanced up, confused, her lips deliciously swollen.
“Dirty Girl, I want so badly to fuck your perfect flute-player mouth, but more than that I want to fuck your sweet, ripe pussy.”
“I know, but—”
“Your mouth should be illegal,” he interrupted. “I can only imagine what your pussy will be like.”
She cocked her head, letting the words hit her.
“Show it to me,” he urged. “Show me everything.”
She rose and removed her shirt and bra from where they were hitched around her stomach. She didn’t pause as she unbuttoned her shorts, following his every demand.
“Slower,” he said, giving her another one.
She took her shorts down and kicked them off to the side, waiting in her white lace underwear for his next command. Fuck, she was gorgeous. His eyes followed every line, dipped into every curve, longed to see the still hidden parts of her. The pussy he’d waited to see in full view until he fucked her was about to be unveiled to him—only to him.
“Say something.” Her voice brought him back from the trip her body was taking him on.
Could he tell her what he thought of her? No, because he felt those words in his chest. He needed to keep this to what he felt in his pants.
“I’m just picturing what your wet panties are going to look like balled up on the floor next to us when I sink my cock into you.”
She seemed relieved, and he knew his instincts were right. She’d asked him to treat her like a woman he fucked. He needed to remember that.
He flicked his chin at her. “Let’s find out.”
She slipped them off and waited. She was perfectly manicured, a whisper of fine brown hair in a tiny V on her pubic bone. Her hips were curved and ivory white like angel wings opening to him. She moved to cover herself.
“No.” He motioned for her to drop her hands. “I need to see you.”
Her whole body seemed to blush.
“Fuck, Dirty Girl,” he murmured, words the only thing securing him to that space. He was spinning, dizzy from just looking at her.
She stood in front of him with her arms at her sides, like she was unsure what to do next. Oh, he would tell her. He was searching his mind for the words, when something else dropped in.
“Crap,” he said. “My condoms are in the room.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. They were here, naked, beyond turned on, and he couldn’t do shit about it.
“Not a problem,” Valerie said with a smile. She bent down for her shorts and pulled a shiny wrapper from the pocket.
He clicked his tongue, a wave of warmth coming on so strong it almost knocked him over. “You really are a dirty girl, aren’t you?”
Instead of answering, she passed the condom over.
He ripped it open, slipped it on, and reached for her. “You have no idea what is coming your way,” he growled, pressing his naked body to hers. His tongue licked along the edges of her lips as he entered her, going just as far as her rules would take him.
Her breath caught, and he sank deeper, trying to keep his own breath in check. Being inside her was demolishing him. He rocked against her slowly at first, enjoying the pull as she took him deeper and deeper.
He squeezed her ass. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said as he hitched her up. She obliged and held him between her thighs in a perfect parallel to his thrusts.
Her arms were draped over his neck, her legs were around his waist, and her pussy was holding him, too. Each thrust she accepted seemed to clutch him tighter, bringing his desire to a boiling point. He wanted to kiss her so badly, needed to know what her swollen lips tasted like. He wasn’t sure if it was because it was forbidden, or after seeing her work on his cock, he knew her kiss would be legendary. Or was it something even scarier? Even though he couldn’t tell her how beautiful she was, how sexy, how rare, he wanted her to feel it. He bit her shoulder, fighting the urge to take her away in a kiss she would never be able to say no to.
“Fuck, your pussy feels so good,” he said, going even deeper into the depths of her. “It’s just as tight and luscious as I knew it would be.”
Her breathing escalated, and he plunged faster to meet it.
“Are you ready to come for me?”
Her hands braced against the door, and he had his answer.
“I know how hard you can come. I tasted it earlier. I want to feel it this time. I want to feel you, bursting all over my cock.”
She moaned again, her pussy engulfing him in a hot furnace of desire.
He was controlling himself, but barely. “Tell me what it’s going to take. Tell me how to make you come.”
“Faster,” she panted. “Harder. Don’t stop, not even to breathe.”
That he could do. He thrust against her, his cock shoving as far as she would take him again and again and again and again. His legs strained in effort, his mind was heady with the heat of her, but he kept plunging until she clenched around him.
Her nails dug into his back, and he knew she was done for, but holy shit so was he. Her breath became moans, then his name, over and over like a chant he would hear in the deepest parts of him forever.
He slammed into her just as his release hit—cold like the ice cubes and hot like her lips and bottomless like their foreplay hadn’t started just this weekend. That this need for her had been building since the second he saw her walk into the band room freshman year with her flute case and her little plaid skirt, her hair in a French braid.
He fell against her, and she ran her lips along his bare shoulder, catching her breath. He somehow tried to catch his. They were just the sounds their bodies made as she detached from him. He knew he needed to say something, but his mind was still reeling, still swirling with his release, with the echo of her cries. She was all that was inside him. The terrible memories he usually carried were drowned out by their now.
He was here with her and nowhere else.
He slipped the condom off and tossed it in the trash.
“I don’t know about you,” Val said, thankfully breaking the silence, “but I’m thirsty.”
“Does that mean I turned you into a Coke girl?” he teased.
Still naked, she reached into the pockets of her shorts for change, and clinked it into the machine. Two sodas clunked out. She bent down to grab them, giving him a breathtaking view of her creamy ass. Even after being completely satisfied by her, all he could think about was burying his face in it. His cock threatened to go hard again. He reached for his boxers and pulled them on. He had done what she wanted, and they were finished.
Would he ever find the peace he felt when he was inside her again?
Maybe he would be able to co
nvince her that this time hadn’t counted because they weren’t in a bed.
What the hell am I thinking?
She had ruined him, by saving him. But he couldn’t let her know it. He would try to follow her rules even if it killed him.
She popped the top on both sodas and passed him one.
She took a sip and considered for a millisecond before spitting it out into the trash. “I may never see Coke the same way again.” She laughed. “But that still tastes like crap.”
Chapter Eight
When they reached the room, housekeeping was long gone. Valerie’s thoughts that she could move on after that and act like nothing had happened were seemingly on their way out, too.
She rushed into the bathroom to clean up. She needed to breathe—wanted to be alone with her swirling thoughts. They seemingly whirred around in her brain like the bathroom fan above her.
Had that really happened? Had she actually had sex with Alec? Initiated a blowjob with him?
Her skin blushed on top of her afterglow, and she splashed cold water on her face. She did not act like that with men. She did not have sex in the vending machine rooms of hotels and she did not initiate blowjobs, but she’d loved every minute of it. She was still shaking with just how much.
She replayed his sexy words, his touch, his insanely expert thrusts, and hot-as-lava breath. Even so, it was good they hadn’t been able to do it in their hotel room bed, because she would crave cuddling now. She would want to be against his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos, while he murmured into her hair.
Alec was her best friend and seemingly willing to do whatever she wanted, but he was not that guy. He didn’t cuddle, and he certainly didn’t murmur into hair, not after he’d gotten what he wanted from the woman under that hair.
It was why she’d spoken first after they’d finished. Why she’d turned the attention to a stupid Coke, so he didn’t suspect she’d even considered wanting him to be that guy.
She took a deep breath. She needed to stop. He’d never promised to be. He’d promised to screw her against a Coke machine until she orgasmed like an erupting geyser, and he’d more than kept his promise. So why couldn’t she stop wondering what it might feel like to be in his arms now?