by Christa Wick
Yet here he was…at a loss…at last.
I repeated my demand, gently this time. "How can I answer you, Dean, if you won’t answer me?"
Dean shook his head. "I don’t know if there was another option. I’ll never know. I didn't act on training or reason. Fuck, thinking wasn’t part of the equation."
He put his foot on the floor, braced himself with a hand on each knee and stared straight into my eyes. "I acted on impulse -- on desire."
I gave one slow nod as the answer sank in and then I closed my eyes. I couldn’t look at him and still say what I wanted to say. "You want me to forgive you?"
"Yes."
I took a deep breath in, released it with a glacial slowness. "For stripping me naked and tying me to the bed?"
He swallowed so hard I could hear it. "Yes."
"For touching me when I pleaded with you to let me go?"
"Yes." His voice cracked at the admission.
"For letting Manny watch?" I opened my eyes.
Dean looked, for a second, like he was going to throw up but then he swallowed and nodded, some of the color returning to his blanched features.
I tilted my head, my chin angling up in partial denial. I was close to crying again, my nails digging into the palm of my hands as I fought my tears and the muscles tightening in my chest. "And for abandoning me to strangers -- to a bully like Cohen?"
He sucked a deep breath in. Exhaling, it sounded like my question had punctured his lung. When he spoke again, every word came out raw and dripping blood. "I understand -- you can't…shouldn’t. I don’t deserve your forgiveness."
"That’s for me to decide," I whispered. I had already forgiven him, long ago. I first forgave him during those early months when I waited each day for him to reappear. I forgave him again the week I cried myself to sleep thinking he would stay away and that I meant nothing to him. And what was the hope that had blossomed when I saw him at the library but another manifestation of my forgiveness?
I stood up, my legs shaking so badly I thought they would give out. "You want forgiveness, I want something, too."
"Anything--"
I raised my hand to silence him. "This isn’t about earning some kind of absolution…"
Dean rose, took one long step forward and gripped my shoulders. "Tell me what you want, Garnet."
Even now I was incapable of saying the words. He was too damn beautiful -- the depthless green eyes, the sensuous, mobile lips. I was lying to myself if I believed he wanted the same thing -- that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.
Impulse. Desire.
He had said those words, more than once, but what did they mean?
Desire…impulse…
Dean pulled me to him, his arms circling me as his mouth dropped to my throat. He murmured something, the words drowned out by the thunder of blood in my head. He pressed his lips to the hollow below my ear.
"This…" He placed another kiss that made my whole face tingle. "This is what you want?"
In danger of being completely subsumed by my need for him, I tried to extract myself from his embrace.
"Water…" My throat and mouth had gone suddenly dry, parched by nerves. I pushed weakly at his chest. "Are you thirsty? Do you want a glass?"
He cinched me tight against his chest, his lips hovering at the corner of mine. "There’s only one cup I want to drink from, little dove."
A jolt of need shot through me. My knees abandoned me. Swooning like some idiot girl-child who has never been fucked, I clutched at his arms. My grip tightened as he gently bit the bottom corner of my mouth and I tried not to grind or moan.
"Let me take you into the bedroom." His husky whisper sent a shiver through me. His hands gripped my ass, pulling me to him so that his hips molded against my soft lower stomach. "Let me do it right this time."
His cock, thick and erect, pressed against my belly. I remembered the slide of it inside me, how it had stretched my pussy as I rode him. The fat head had felt like a battering ram gently wielded. I mewled at the thought of the merciless pleasure Dean would deliver once unleashed.
I managed a shallow nod. Dean scooped me up, overturning one of the dining room chairs. He carried me into the bedroom and placed me on the mattress on my back. Leaning over me, he covered my torso with his.
His fingers threaded through my hair. Holding my head immobile, he ravaged my mouth. His hips wedged my thighs apart, the hard lines of his lower stomach pressed insistently against my mound. A little sound left my throat, twisting and raw.
Dean froze for an instant then pulled back.
Confused, I looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, the downward cast of his eyes with their heavy black lashes almost demure. His chest rose and fell, panting as he breathed through slightly parted lips.
"Is something wrong?" The slow creep of panic moved through my gut, knotting my stomach.
"I’m sorry, baby." His cheeks flashed redder. "There’s just something about you that brings out the caveman in me."
Hell yeah!
I chewed at my lips, trying to restrain the ridiculous grin that tugged at the corners of my mouth. I rolled my eyes up and to the right, attempting to hide their glint of pleasure. "Well, you haven’t gone completely Neanderthal on me."
"No." A wicked smile surfaced on his face, erasing the blush. "Not yet, at least."
His hands pushed down past the scooped neckline of my blouse. The back of his nails raked lightly at my skin as he reached into my bra, palming my breasts for a second before he lifted them from their lacy cups. His knees pressing against the mattress, he bent and sucked a nipple into his mouth, both hands squeezing and shaping my flesh.
His moan vibrated around the sensitive tip, triggering my own soft groan. He nosed the nipple, licked it, his green eyes intense as they stared seductively up at me.
Dean reached for the hem of my blouse. His hands shaking, he redirected and grabbed my knees. "Top off, baby. I'll shred it if I try."
He sucked at his bottom lip the entire time he watched me pinch the hem of my top and slowly peel the fabric up. His hands roamed my thighs, roughly kneading the flesh in impatience. When the blouse cleared my bra, I felt his mouth on me again, my erect nipple between his teeth. Tugging the hard tip upward, he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to the edge of the mattress.
"That sweet pussy better be soaking, love." The top came off just as he shoved my legs apart. "Because you’ve got my cock swollen so big."
A little whimper escaped me as I reached behind to unhook my bra.
"Are you going to whimper like that when I make you come? So soft and needy it makes my dick swell bigger."
I groaned, my fingers useless as a hard contraction rolled through my cunt. One hand centered between my breasts, his other reaching behind me, Dean tugged the bra open then pushed me onto my back as he rose up. He kept his hand against my chest, the bra still covering my breasts.
His free hand palmed my mound, the pressure all that was necessary to drench the fabric and reveal how ready I was. "Damn, beautiful. I could come just watching you squirm."
I closed my eyes and tried very, very hard not to squirm. I didn’t want him coming until he was inside me. My ability to remain still lasted all of three seconds. He provoked me with another firm squeeze of my pussy. Pleasure rolled through me, lifting my hips and forcing his name from my lips in a moan.
Another squeeze and he laughed softly, the sound warm and rich. "I’m going to make you come before I even take your pants off, love."
I shook my head, my eyes closed as I challenged him.
"And then I’ll make you come again with just your panties on." Another squeeze, this one manipulating the flesh of my swollen labia. "Then no panties, little dove, just my lips, my tongue, sucking…"
A tremor hit me, my stomach and thighs quivering as my cunt tightened around an invisible ball, my hips bucking once, twice, a third time as I cried out his name.
"One down, little dove." He dropped to his knees,
his fingers slowly walking up over my stomach to the unhooked bra that rested atop my breasts. "So many more to go."
Dean flicked the fabric away, his gaze feasting on the flushed skin of my breasts and my puckered nipples. He pinched both of them, tugging them toward him as his chest pressed rhythmically against my pussy.
"No pants," I pleaded, my ass already starting to grind against the bed as another climax welled inside me. "You said no pants this time."
Smiling, he stood and unfastened the button and zipper on my pants. "Lift, baby."
I obeyed, mewling softly when his knuckles brushed against my skin as he pulled the pants from me. Staring down at the dark wet patch on my panties, he licked his top lip. "Still so juicy, little dove."
"Very," I nodded, boldly reaching down to pull the gusset of my panties to one side. I could feel my muscles flexing. My labia jerked, sliding up as the muscled ring gating my cunt opened and closed in invitation.
"No, no, no, love." He shook his head but his gaze stayed locked on my wet slit. "Panties next."
"Please." A needy, horny whine -- it didn’t shame me the least. "You can tease me tomorrow…" I stared into his green gaze, an altogether different plea shaping itself. "Or next week."
His eyelids fluttered shut and he nodded, confirming he wasn’t there for one night of fucking before he disappeared from my life again. He gripped the top button on his jeans, unthreaded it, moved to the next one and down until he was pushing his pants and briefs over his muscled hips. Once freed, his cock pointed at me, every bit as big and mouthwatering as I remembered.
Stepping from his bottom clothing, he pulled his shirt up over his head. Angry red lines marked the left side of his chest. Hearing my gasp, he hesitated, his muscles flexing self-consciously before he finished pulling the shirt off.
"Who hurt you?" I went from sex-crazed to on the verge of crying in a heartbeat. "What happened?"
He shook his head, not ready to tell me. "It doesn’t matter, little dove. I’m here."
I started to sit up, but he pointed a stern finger at me.
"No, I want you as you were. Relaxed…" his gaze dropped to my still parted thighs, the crotch of my panties wedged between my wet and swollen labia, "and exposed."
My lips opened in protest and his gaze immediately narrowed. "Now, little dove."
A hard promise of retribution laced his gentle tone, his fierce gaze so sexy I wanted to disobey just so he would punish me. Instead, I pressed my back against the mattress, spread my legs a little wider and drew the fabric against my thigh.
On his knees once more, his attention focused on my pussy, Dean sighed. Pinching both labia, he separated them, his head dipping so he could slowly inhale my scent. "I could smother myself between these plump, wet lips and die a happy man, love."
My stomach tightened at the last word. I had imagined him saying it a hundred times over the many months since I’d last seen him. Melting into the mattress, I reached for him. My fingers found the short, thick curls of his dark hair.
"Don’t." I tugged his mouth closer to my cunt, my whispers of encouragement hot enough to burn my lips. "I still need you to fuck me…to hold me."
A slow nod of assent, his lips and nose smoothing over my clit before he took his first lick.
"Ooh…" My fingers started to shake in his hair.
Another lick, harder, his teeth grazing my skin.
I groaned, a shudder rolling through me as my pussy contracted. The wet tip of his tongue flicked against the opening of my cunt then penetrated me in one long thrust. Slowly, his tongue retreated to slide down the smooth skin of my perineum. Lower still, the tip circled that other small opening, every nerve between my nipples and my knees firing simultaneously.
"Fuck me." I tugged at his hair, urging him to rise up. "Fuck me. Claim me. I can’t go another second without you in me."
Dean surged up the bed, his torso skimming over mine, his strong hands pushing my thighs apart as his cock unerringly sank into me. His weight pushing me into the mattress, he tucked his arms against my sides. His feet remaining on the floor, his knees braced against the edge of the mattress, he started to fuck his cock into me.
Full length in, full length out. He nestled the fat head at the opening, his hips swiveling to stretch my cunt, slipping in, tugging back out as his hard lower abdominals rubbed against my clit.
"Mine." His hand found my breast to roughly squeeze and pinch at the nipple.
"Yes!" I was cresting, my cunt bearing down on him, grinding and rolling along his cock. I wrapped my legs around him, my heels locking as I lifted to meet his thrusts.
"You won’t accept another." He kissed me before I could answer, his mouth as rough and demanding as his hands and cock. "You won’t."
"No!" Our bodies bounced along the mattress. His merciless thrusts pushed me higher along the arc of my climax, the head battering inside me, the tender tissues swelling so that he felt impossibly large, completely dominating my cunt.
He kissed my throat, bruising and biting with pent up need. "I won’t take another," he promised, his lips branding my flesh. "Just you -- just us."
"Yes." My sheath rolled along his shaft, milking it for the thick building stream of cum.
"You are going to let me drink from you, love." The entire length of his shaft buried inside me, he rocked his hips as he stared into my eyes. "You're going to spread your legs and let me feast. Let me suck and lick while my fingers drive you into oblivion."
"Yes!" It would be a return trip, he already had me there, my climax rolling through me like a sand storm -- blasting my nerves until they were indistinguishable from the grains of sand. I arched, trembling, crying. "Please, love. Please come with me."
Dean froze, his eyes misting as he gazed deeper into my eyes. I nodded, my own eyes suddenly wet.
"Yes, I said it. I love you." My hands clutched at him as my pussy continued to suck at his shaft. My body whipped like a live wire, working his cock. "Please…now."
He twitched with me, cum rippling through his cock to shoot deep inside me. Groaning, he buried himself deeper, slamming hard into me. I tightened my legs around him, bucking and squeezing every inch of the way until the last wave of pleasure rolled through us.
Dean withdrew. Our bodies contorted along the mattress until we were under the blankets with our limbs wrapped around one another. His hand snaked between us, lazily taking possession of my pussy. Gently fingering me, he sucked at my neck. "You saved me, Garnet Williams."
My arms hugging his shoulders, I shook my head, denying the possibility. "You saved me."
Straining up, he kissed me. "And then you saved me. I wasn't going to die in that desert because I had to see you one last time -- I had to taste you and touch you one last time."
I shook my head again, my embrace tightening to hold him close. "Not one last time."
"You're right, little dove. Not one last time but again and again as long as you let me."
Smiling, fat tears wetting my cheeks, I let him roll me onto my back knowing I had him forever.
Vegas Curves
I push my stool back from the Black Jack table, more than seven thousand dollars in chips sliding around inside my cup. My foot touches the floor just as I catch the flick of the dealer's eyes toward someone behind me. A heartbeat later, a hand firmly cups my elbow and I know I am busted.
Rule number 1 -- The House always wins.
Rule number 2 -- If the House isn't winning, you must be cheating.
The house is losing and, sure enough, I am cheating. Only getting caught this time means more than a trip to jail -- it means a dead sister.
"Miss Lafayette, that was quite a streak of luck." His grip tightening, my captor slowly draws me the rest of the way off the stool. "Genuinely stirring to watch."
With the mystery man knowing my name, I have zero chance of convincing him luck has anything to do with it. Still, I have to try -- Rose is counting on me.
Forcing a smile to my face, I turn
to look at him.
Damn!
I suck a breath in, wondering why a Vegas casino would hire a male runway model to work security. The man holding my arm falls somewhere between smoldering hot and achingly beautiful despite the neatly trimmed beard and mustache.
Unable to stop myself, I drink in the thick black hair and dark chocolate eyes. My gaze drops, confirming my first impression as I note the tailored silk suit clothing his thick, muscular body.
Smoldering and achingly beautiful, he would have me creaming my plus-size panties if I wasn't one wrong step away from going to jail.
Right -- jail. Not tonight. Not ever if I can help it, but especially not tonight. Too much depends on my leaving the casino with the money I won.
Stunned by his looks, I had allowed my smile to slip. I jerk it back up, increasing the wattage as I take another calming breath in. Tilting my head, I shake it with amused confusion as I correct him on the name.
"Danielle Hilton." I attempt to extract my elbow from his steely grip so that I might offer my hand like the well-bred, innocent young lady I am pretending to be.
With his fingers expertly placed on opposing nerve centers, it takes him less than an ounce of pressure to change my mind. I let a nervous blink slip through but choke down my need to swallow. "But I'm glad you enjoyed the game."
"I enjoyed watching you." Smiling, he offers me his arm and I can't help but notice how his eyes glitter like smoky quartz. "We can discuss the fickle nature of luck after you're cashed out."
His deeply masculine voice sends a warm shiver down my spine. Every bit as rich and chocolatey as his dark eyes, the sound leaves me wondering what it would feel like to take him in my mouth and let him melt all over my tongue. The sensation of doing just that grabs me so completely that it takes at least five seconds for his words to sink in.