Badd Ass (Badd Brothers Book 2)

by Jasinda Wilder

  I was within touching distance, now. I sprang, wrapping my arms around her and burying my nose in her neck, then whispered in her ear. “I was always really good at the slow kind of insertions.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She’d jumped when I first grabbed her, but had immediately relaxed when she realized it was me. “You’ll have to show me that slow kind of insertion, then. It sounds…interesting.”

  I slid my hands across her belly and up beneath her breasts. “The trick is go really slowly, just sort of…slide in, you know?”

  She tilted her head back to rest it on my shoulder, slipping a hand between us to trace the ridge of my zipper. “I think I might have an idea how it works. Pretty sure I’ll need a demonstration, though. Just in case.”

  “Oh yeah?” I let my hand drift down to cup her core over her jeans.

  “Not—not here, though,” she murmured, catching my wrist. “I’m not quite ready for exhibitionism yet.”

  “No, me neither.” I bit her earlobe. “So how about you show me your room?”

  “Doesn’t that usually happen after the date?”

  “I think that’s up to us,” I said. “I’d like to think we can decide for ourselves how we want this to work.”

  “And you think sex first is a viable plan, huh?”

  “And after.” I tickled her ear with my tongue. “And maybe even during. You never know.”

  “During?”

  I took her hand in mine and led her in the direction of her B&B. “Yeah, during. You wear something more…accessible, and I can do all sorts of interesting things to you.”

  “Is that so?” she breathed. “And…and what if I didn’t bring anything more accessible?”

  “You didn’t?”

  “I might have brought one skirt.”

  “I think you should change into that, then.” I put my lips against her ear. “No underwear.”

  “I never go commando,” she answered. “It’s weird.”

  “That’s fine,” I said, an idea flitting through my head. “Wear underwear with the skirt. I can work with it”

  She eyed me. “And what does that mean?”

  I just grinned. “Oh, you’ll see.”

  We didn’t talk much the rest of the way to the B&B, since we were both kind of power-walking. I know for my part, all I could think of was the video she’d sent me, the glorious, erection-inducing visual of beautiful Mara with her thighs spread apart, that pink vibrator sliding into her pussy. I kept seeing that over and over, the way her tits had bounced while she came, and how badly I needed to be the one to make her tits bounce.

  Just thinking about it had me going hard in my jeans, which was a problem because we’d reached the B&B and my cock was pointing down, which meant I needed to adjust myself…a difficulty when the living room of the B&B was crowded with guests. Mara said her hellos as she veritably hauled me through the room to the stairs. We reached her room, and she unlocked it in record time and shoved me through, slamming and locking the door behind herself.

  “Naked,” she murmured. “Get naked.”

  I peeled my jacket off, tossed it aside, and then yanked my shirt over my head. “Eager, huh, Mara?”

  “All damn day I’ve been thinking about that video you sent me. I can’t get it out of my head.”

  I bent to unlace my boots, kicked them and my socks off, and then shucked my jeans and underwear before reaching for Mara. “I’ve been having the same issue.”

  She toed off her shoes and socks while I started tugging down the skintight jeans she favored, leaving her in a red thong and her T-shirt. “You have?”

  “Hell yeah. I might have had to relieve myself because of it this morning.”

  “And you didn’t record it?”

  “Should I have?”

  “Hell yeah.” She grasped my cock and stroked it slowly. “Always record it, and always send it to me.”

  “Ditto, in that case.”

  I decided to play with her a little bit, so I left her shirt and bra on but slid her thong down. I pushed her back against the door and traced her slit with my middle finger, then again, and penetrated her ever so slightly, teasing her pussy gradually until my finger was inside her and she was writhing against my finger.

  A fist rapped tentatively against the door at that moment. “Miss Quinn?” The voice was elderly, thin and sweet.

  She blinked, hips flexing as I slid my finger slowly in and out of her channel. “It’s Mrs. Kingsley, the hostess,” she whispered to me, and then twisted away from me and opened the door a crack. “Hi, Mrs. Kingsley. What’s up?”

  I palmed her ass as she leaned into the sliver of an opening, just her head and shoulders visible on the other side; Mara batted at my hand, but I ignored her, sliding my hands over her marvelous ass, then cupping her hips, then carving both hands around to palm her pussy. I teased her opening once, twice, a third time, and Mara’s hips began flexing as I flitted the tip of my middle finger against her clit.

  “Hello, dear. I just wanted to see if you were planning on joining us for dinner this evening. I’m doing a nice beef stew, and Mr. Kingsley has some fresh salmon he’s smoking. It’d be nice to know if we can count you in or out so I know how many settings to put out.”

  “I…um—” Mara stuttered, hips fluttering as I circled her clit; she had a death grip on the side of the door, trying desperately to hold still and not give anything away, but I could tell by the way she was moving her hips that she was nearing the edge of climax. “I don’t—I don’t think so. Oh—god—goddammit!”

  I heard a surprised gasp from the other side of the door. “Is everything all right, dear?”

  “I just—I stubbed my toe against the door, is all. I’m fine.” She was writhing in earnest now.

  “Are you sure? You’re acting awfully strange.” Suspicion tinged Mrs. Kingsley’s voice.

  I had Mara on the cusp then. I delved two fingers inside her, gathered her wetness and withdrew my fingers to spread her juices over her clit, then sped the circling of my fingers. I saw Mara’s knuckles go white on the edge of the door, watched her shoulders tense, and then she couldn’t stop herself from moving with my touch, her hips pushing to grind into the rhythmic pulse of my fingers on her clit.

  “I—um, T-M-I, maybe, but I was just about to go the bathroom. So I’m—ohhhh…I’m doing the potty dance. So, yeah. I have plans for dinner, but thank you very much, Mrs. Kingsley.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, just let me know.” A pause. “And if you do decide to join us, let me know how many I should expect, all right? You could bring a…guest, if you wanted.” There was laughter in her voice, as if she were wise to the game.

  “Okay, thanks. Maybe I—mmmm…maybe I’ll see you for dinner after all.”

  “All right, dear. I’ll leave you be.”

  And then Mara was shutting the door and twisting the lock; the second I heard the lock slide home, I was on my knees in front of her, hands on her hips, turning her to face me. She ran her fingertips over my scalp as I buried my face between her thighs, lapping at her slit, my tongue eager. She gasped as I probed her opening, her hips flexing nonstop now. I slid two fingers inside her and flicked my tongue against her clit, and then she was clutching my head to keep my face buried against her pussy, writhing against me.

  “Oh yeah, Zane, right there. Just like that. God, yes.” She dipped at the knees, thighs spread apart, grinding down against my mouth. “I’m there, Zane—oh, fuck, yes…make me come.”

  I thrashed her clit with my tongue and slid my fingers in and out, going hard and fast with both, pushing her to the edge and then over it. I felt her come, felt her pussy clamp around my fingers and her thighs quiver, and she was gasping and writhing and grinding.

  “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” she moaned through gritted teeth, hips flying wildly.

  I kept going, kept licking, kept fingering, and she kept writhing, and then I pulled my face away and stood up, sliding three fingers inside her and pressing the heel
of my palm against her clit and fucked her hard and fast with my fingers, palm grinding, and she went crazy, groaning out loud, head pressed against the door, spine arched, hips pressed forward.

  “Zane…Zane, I’m—oh, oh, oh…oh my god! I’m gonna—I’m—ohmyfuckinggod!” she wailed, curling forward.

  Her forehead pressed against mine, her hands gripping into my shoulders like claws. I used my other hand to yank her bra cup down far enough that I could pinch her nipple, squeezing and twisting it to the rhythm of my touch between her legs, and then, as I felt her start to come, I clamped down hard and held on as I worked her pussy as fast as my hand would go.

  Her face slid down to my shoulder and her teeth sank into the muscle along the side of my neck, a guttural groan escaping her as her hips gyrated.

  “Oh—oh—oh—oh…” she chanted, “I’mcomingI’mcomingI’mcoming so hard it hurts, oh god it hurts, ohmyfuckinggodZANE!”

  She shattered, then, her whole body spasming, arching backward and then curling spastically forward, my palm grinding in a blur against her clit. She cried out wordlessly and a thin stream squirted out of her in a long arc just as I moved out of the way.

  I scooped her into my arms as she collapsed, holding her against my chest. She was shaking all over, shuddering, eyes closed, little whimpers seeping past clenched teeth.

  I laid her on the bed, gently stripping her of her shirt and then her bra. She cooperated sluggishly, moving her arms just enough to allow me to get her arms free of the bra straps. When she was fully naked, I took a moment to appreciate her body, her beauty, the flushed glow on her face, the messy tangle of her naturally blonde hair.

  “You’re beautiful all the time,” I said, reclining beside her on the bed, my mouth inches from hers, “but right after you’ve come? You’re absolutely breathtaking.”

  “You made me squirt,” she mumbled.

  I laughed and touched my lips to hers. “Yes, I did.”

  “I can’t feel my legs.”

  “Does this make us even for that blow job?”

  She opened her eyes finally, scintillating and brilliant and vividly green. “Based on intensity alone? Yes.” She gazed up at me, her eyes soft, lazy, and satisfied. “You should shut up and kiss me.”

  I complied willingly, giving her my mouth. I was lost in the kiss. Consumed by it.

  I could do nothing but kiss her, nothing but put myself into the kiss. My hands buried in her hair, clutched her closer, and she rolled into me, her hands scraping down my back to palm my ass, her hips pressing against mine. Heat seared through me at the ferocity of the kiss, need piling on need. I was a live wire, the detonation of a fragmentation grenade compressed into the touch of lips to lips, belly to belly, thighs to thighs, hands on skin and tongues tangling. I lost my breath and found it in her lungs, lost my ability to think or function or move, and found it in the writhing of her hips and the clutch of her hands all over my body. All of me was focused on her, on this woman, in this moment, mesmerized by her, drawn in by her. I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t need to, because she was all the breath I needed, her mouth on mine.

  “Zane…” she breathed.

  “Mara.” I pulled back, my eyes on hers. “What’s happening?”

  “I don’t—I don’t know,” she whispered, and then pressed a kiss to my jaw, my chin, my cheekbone, kisses peppering across my face with delirious fervor, eliciting gasping groans from me at the wet, warm bliss of her lips, the affection in the kisses. “But I don’t want to stop.”

  “Me neither.”

  We were on our sides facing each other, tangled together. My cock was aching, throbbing, pulsating with bursting need. I could feel every inch of Mara pressed against me, her breasts flattened against my chest, her arms around me, her hands scouring my arms, my hips, my thigh, my shoulders, palming over my scalp and teasing the shell of my ear and my nape and my back.

  She pressed closer to me, snuggling so tight there was not a single atom’s worth of space between us. A breath of a moment later, Mara draped her thigh over mine, her hand on my ass pulling at me.

  “Zane.” She buried her face in my neck, breathing hard. “I need you.”

  I inhaled the scent of her hair, my hand on her hip. “I need you too.”

  She flexed against me, then, and I couldn’t stop the way my hips ground against hers, and I felt her slit sliding damp against my cock. “God…Zane—” There was a hint of a whimper in the way she said my name.

  A pivot of my hips, and I felt her open for me, felt her slick warmth welcome me. I groaned into her hair as I pushed in, bare and trembling.

  Mara moaned with me, clinging to me with all the strength in her body, shuddering against me as I sank into her until we were hips to hips, flush, her thighs wedged around my waist. I rolled to my back, taking her on top of me, and she drew her body downward, lips stuttering across my chest, her spine arching outward, her hips grinding backward, crushing me deeper and deeper and deeper. I gripped her hips, then forced my hands to release, hands shaking more than they ever did before combat. I traced the knobs of her spine with my fingers, walking my touch up her back until I reached her neck, and then slid my hands into the blond mass of her hair.

  Her head lifted, then, and her eyes bored into mine like lasers, daring me to look away, daring me to break this moment, daring me to stop this. I couldn’t, I didn’t. What I did was bring her face down to mine and kiss her, renewing the breathless delirium of our earlier kiss, except the ferocity and need was redoubled now, because I was buried inside her to the hilt, her pussy clenching around my cock.

  When my tongue slid into her mouth, she moaned, and began to move. A slow slide at first, is all it was, but then as one moment bled into the next, she growled into the kiss and moved faster. Her hands clutched my face and her tongue slashed mine and her hips rolled faster and faster.

  Something niggled deep down, way in the back of my consciousness, but I couldn’t grasp the thought. All I knew was Mara, her mouth on mine and her ass brushing against my thighs as she moved on top of me. I moved with her, palming the heavy, taut globes of her perfect ass, encouraging her motion, pulling her against me, gripping my fingers into the generous swell. I tasted the heat of her mouth and felt her pussy clenching in throbbing rhythm around me.

  She controlled this moment. It was her movement, her body writhing on mine. All I could do was move with her, push into her thrusts.

  A rasping moan bubbled past her lips and we moved together, thrusts becoming ever more wild, ever more forceful, Mara guiding our pace. Faster, faster…her moans nonstop, her pussy gliding around my cock in a tight, slippery slide. Her forehead pressed into my chest and she pushed, arching her back, hips tight against mine to keep my cock thrust deep inside her. She rolled her hips in wide circles, and her fingers stole between her thighs, and she touched her clit. I kept moving, keep thrusting even though I was pressed as far into her channel as I could go, feeling her hand between us, her knuckles moving as she fondled her clit.

  Her moans went ragged, became whimpers, and then breathless shrieks, hips grinding harder, faster. “Zane—god, Zane. I’m—ohhhhhh…”

  She couldn’t even finish her statement, but I knew. God, I knew. I felt it, felt her body spasm, felt her pussy ripple and tighten around me. In the moment of climax, she yanked her hand away and gave in to riding me through the orgasm.

  Her groans, her gasps, the clamping clench of her pussy around me, the hot silk of her flesh against me, under my hands, her body writhing above me, juddering…

  It was my undoing.

  “Mara, god…I’m—ohhhh god—I’m right there, I’m so close…”

  Her eyes flew open as I felt the release building inside me. “Oh, no! Zane—don’t! Not inside me!”

  At the very last moment, I rolled her off of me and pulled out. Went to my knees above her, snarling and grunting as I felt the orgasm build and build to an imminent, explosive crescendo. Mara reached for me, both hands wrapping around my c
ock, fists plunging. I let go, then, hips pumping, cock sliding through her hands.

  I came with a wordless shout, a geyser of come spurting out of me. Her fists plunged hard and fast, her attention rapt as the first stream shot out of me, splashing onto her pale skin. I growled through it, watching my come lay in a thick white stripe along her belly and up her ribcage. She shimmied down as I came again, and this time it pooled on her breasts, sliding down between the mounds of taut, firm flesh. She didn’t relent, but kept stroking me through each successive wave until I was breathless, a viscous string dangling between the tip of my cock and her skin.

  She lifted up, licked the string away, and took me into her mouth. She sucked the last of it out of me, fist still sliding, until I was too spent to stay upright any longer.

  I fell to the side, gasping, Mara next to me. She was staring down at herself, index finger tracing through the puddles of my come.

  As we lay in companionable, easy silence for several minutes, the reality of what we’d just done, what had almost happened, began to rifle through me.

  “Mara, I—” I started, but had no idea what I’d been about to say.

  She held up her finger, sticky with my come, stuck it into her mouth and pulled it out, and then her eyes met mine. “I’m sorry, Zane.”

  “You’re sorry? For what? It was me, I should’ve—”

  “No, I mean, I’m sorry that I told you to stop. That you didn’t get to finish the way we should’ve finished. I wanted you to…to finish inside me. But—” she fondled my now-slackened cock. “I just—I’m not—I wasn’t ready.”

  “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

  She inched closer to me, laid her head on my arm and gazed at me. “I don’t regret it. I don’t, I can’t—being with you bare like that? Zane, that was…it was so amazing. I want it like that all the time. That’s what’s dangerous about it.”

  “We can’t, though, can we? I mean, I’m clean, but—”

  “I’m clean, too, and I’m on the shot, so we’re protected.”

  “But still.”

  She nodded. “But still.”

  Her room in this B&B had a tiny but full en suite bathroom; she rolled away from me and danced gracefully across the to the bathroom, beautiful, naked, and enticing. She didn’t bother closing the door; instead, she let me watch from the bed as she cleaned up. It was a strange, intense, and almost shocking intimacy, watching the way she soaked a washcloth in the sink, wrung it out, the way she wiped her skin clean with it, scrubbing her breasts and then her belly and then between her legs, then soaked and wrung out the washcloth again and wiped herself down once more. She dried herself with a bath towel, and then soaked the washcloth and wrung it out several more times before returning to the bed. She leaned over me, standing beside the bed. Gently, almost lovingly, she cleaned my cock, starting at the tip and then the head, then holding it with two fingers and angling it this way and that as she wiped me down with the warm, damp washcloth.