by Aubrey Cara
It’s unrefined as the man who lives here.
“Bathroom is through there.” Jess indicates a door to the left of his dresser. “Spare toothbrushes are in the second drawer on the right.”
“Toothbrushes?” I ask stupidly.
“To freshen up before bed.”
“Right.” Did I read things wrong? Not that I expected him to fall on me the second we got in his room, but...I kind of thought he’d fall on me the second we got in his room. “Do you have a shirt I can change into?” I’m suddenly very self-conscious.
He opens a drawer and pulls out a flannel. His gaze is soft when he hands it to me. Annoyed, I snatch it from him, but he grabs my wrist and tugs me against him before I can turn away.
“Hey,” he says when I try to pull back. “I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re drunk.”
“That’s too bad. I was going to take advantage of you while you’re sober and not make a big deal about it.”
This time, he lets me go. I close the door to the bathroom behind me and thump my head against it three times before realizing he can hear it.
I give a silent groan of frustration. What am I doing here? Having some weird grown-up slumber party or some shit? Am I so hard up for a lay?
The recess of my mind answers, yes.
I try to remember who my last sexual partner was. I had been dating him off and on. His name was Rich…or Richard. No. Stephen…maybe Brian?
Shit. I can picture the guy in my mind. Curly blond hair. We’d partnered for tennis at the club, which led to partnering in the bedroom once a week. He’d been pulling on his pants and telling me how I was too preoccupied by work, and…and I had been taking a call about the acquisition of Beta Mavericks, a struggling online gaming site.
That was two years ago.
How did I become the type of person who remembers the deal we’d been closing in on but not the name of the man I was sleeping with?
I brush my teeth then splash water on my face and take a long look in the mirror.
A knock on the door jolts me out of my contemplation. “Everything all right in there?”
“Yes. Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” I quickly strip down and shrug on Jess’s flannel. It’s super soft and comes down to mid thigh. I start folding my clothes and stop.
Soon enough I’ll have to be meticulously detail-oriented Madeline once again. I ball up my clothes and throw them down. Tonight, I’m the Madeline who lets a man caress her cheek and call her beautiful.
I shimmy out of my panties and add them to my pile of clothes then pop open a few buttons of the flannel over the ladies and pinch my cheeks for color. I don’t care what Jess said. He’s going to take advantage of me. And I have no doubt that in two years’ time, I’ll remember his name.
4
J ess
Madeline stepping out of the bathroom in nothing but my flannel is a punch to the gut I’d gladly suffer repeatedly. Possibly for the next fifty years or so. Fuck. This woman ties me in knots just walking into a room.
The spark in her eyes should be my first indication I’m in trouble, but I’d be lying if I said her face was the first thing I noticed. Her shirt—my shirt—never looked so good. The high mounds of her breasts are tantalizingly exposed, making my mouth water.
From her cute little toes, all the way up her glorious body, she is a walking wet dream.
“Whatcha watching?” she asks in her velvety voice as she crawls onto the bed.
Crawls.
On hands and knees, her entire naked body is showcased through the gaping flannel neckline.
My mouth goes dry.
“Oh, not much,” I say not taking my eyes off her.
She gets in next to me, sits back on her heels, and snags the remote out of my hand. I could care less. She’s shifting around to get comfortable, and the entire time the tails ends of the shirt and her thighs are playing peekaboo with her pouty little pussy. I’ve never wanted to get my mouth on something more.
“Do you like cooking shows?” she asks.
“I hate them.”
“Me, too.” She tosses the remote and swings her long legs around to straddle me before I can say boy howdy.
My hands automatically curve over her sweet ass. She leans into me, propping her hands against my bare chest.
“What are you doing, Madeline?”
“I thought it was obvious,” she says against my lips. “I’m seducing you.”
Hell.
She even kisses like a wet dream. Her lips are soft and yielding as I take over. Her tongue tantalizes with exploring flicks. My tongue fights to conquer, entering her mouth in sweeping thrusts the way I want to enter her body.
I cup the nape of her neck before fisting my hand in her silky hair and pulling her back. The way she looks down at me, all glassy eyed and panting, lips swollen from our kiss, makes my dick try to punch through my jeans. Her hands go to the fly of my pants, and I grab her wrists, taking them behind her back. Her eyes flare at the move, pupils dilating.
Interesting.
“If we’re going to do this,” I say, “I have one rule. I’m not going to do anything I think you may regret in the morning. The only penetration happening is going to be done by my fingers and tongue.”
“That’s two rules.”
“Third rule.” I flip her onto her back and grind into her heat before taking her mouth in a scorching kiss. “I’m in charge. No arguing.”
She gives me a coy smile. “That’s two more.”
“And you just broke rule number four.”
“Whatcha gonna do about it?” she challenges.
I reach between us and cup her soft pussy. She gasps, and I groan. She’s already soaking wet.
“I’m going to spank this little pussy of yours. Then I’m going to find out if it tastes as sweet as I think it does.”
Madeline
Jess spreads the shirt open and stares down at me until I fight the urge to squirm. Sex for me has always been quick. Efficient. Something to get my rocks off when I need it the most. Sex is stress relief, like running on the treadmill. It’s part of my health regimen. A part that’s been missing. And now that I’m about to make up for my lack of sheet time, I’m impatient to get on with it.
I doubt he would appreciate me explaining that to him, but the way he’s taking his time is making me anxious. “You gonna get down to business?”
“Is that what you want?” There’s a steely note or maybe a warning in his words. It’s like if I said yes, he’d be disappointed. I strangely don’t want to disappoint him, so I say nothing and wait.
He grabs my thighs and splays me wide. “Hands on your knees. Hold yourself open for me.”
I do as he says. His eyes glaze over as he runs a finger through the neat tuft of hair down below.
“God, you’re killing me, beautiful,” he mutters. Then he surprises me by asking, “Shave or wax?”
My face and chest flush. “Shaved.” I have a standing appointment to get my legs and bikini area waxed but missed my last one. This afternoon I shaved, leaving nothing but a little landing strip in hopes a variation of this moment would be happening.
“All the time, or just for me?” he asks, as if reading my mind.
It’s such an ego-boost question, but I still reply, “For you.”
I raise my hips a little in silent invitation, and a wicked smirk pulls the corner of his mouth. He runs his same finger down my slit, and my breath catches. He holds up the digit. Wet. So very wet.
“Is this for me, too?” he asks. I bite my lip, and he chuckles low. “Keep your legs open. No matter what. Is that understood?”
“Or what?” I ask.
“You’ll find out.”
Oh my. I’ll find out. I’m thinking about what finding out may entail when the flat of his hand slaps down right over my clit. My legs instinctively snap closed. His eyes gleam with wicked intent.
“Tsk, tsk, beautiful.” He reaches over the side of the bed and
pulls up a strap connected to a tether of rope. He secures the Velcro around my thigh before reaching over the other side of the bed and doing the same.
Umm, what is happening? “You have bondage ties on your bed?” This is some kinky shit. “Are you going to bind my hands?” I ask the latter somewhat panicky. I’m not sure if I’m on board with this. I try to move my legs, my heart rate climbing. I can’t move.
He leans over me and cups my face. “You want me to bind your wrists, too?”
Do I? The idea of being completely immobile and helpless underneath him has merit, more than I would have imagined, but on a scale from one to stupid, letting a practical stranger tie me up would be idiotic. Hot, but idiotic. I shake my head.
“Then no.”
“Should we have a safe word or something?”
He grins. “You just say no or stop, and I will. You want me to stop, Maddie?”
Maddie. No one has ever called me that. No one has ever looked at me the way he is now either. It makes electricity hum to life under my skin in anticipation.
“I don’t want you to stop.” He sits back on his heels, and I blurt. “I didn’t read Fifty Shades of Grey.” I don’t want him to get the impression I know what the fuck is going on or fully approve of this.
He laughs. Outright laughs.
Embarrassed, I start tearing at the straps, and he grabs my hands and pins them over my head. He’s half lying on top of me, his thick erection digging into my hip.
“I said I wouldn’t bind you,” he tells me, his voice low and intent. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t hold you down.” His mouth crashes over mine, and this kiss—this heart-stopping, mind-melting kiss is what I need to get out of my head.
He easily holds my wrists with one hand while the other explores. Kneads my breasts. Pinches my nipples until I’m squirming.
“God, that’s right, beautiful,” he groans, his voice a rasp at my ear. “Grind your little pussy on me. Show me how much you wish my cock was inside you.”
I whimper, and do just that and his filthy mouth is back over mine. He shifts his hips and his hand smacks down on my clit. It’s like an electric shock. My scream’s a muffled squeal caught by his lips. My thighs flex against the straps as he does it again and again. Each time a little harder until his lips leave mine and I’m panting. Arching off the bed with every hard, stinging swat.
The orgasm takes me by surprise, seizing my body. I let out a low, tortured moan as my body quakes.
“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” he says, then his weight is off me and his mouth is right there. His large hands bracket my thighs as he sucks my abused clit, painfully prolonging my orgasm. It crests and grows.
“Oh God, Jess.” I fist my hands in his silky hair, holding him to me, and he growls into my pussy as I writhe against his face. Thick fingers fill me, pumping, taking me to the edge.
His fingers leave me, and I whimper as they trail down to my anus. Jess gives my slit a long lick and looks up at me in silent question as he presses a wet digit against my pucker. I still in acceptance. Right now, I’d let him do anything he wanted.
Slowly, he enters me, lighting up nerve endings I never knew existed.
“Anyone ever make you come like this?” He pumps his thick finger, and my thighs quiver at the sensation.
“No.” I quickly shake my head.
The smile stretching his lips is feral, predatory. “Oh, beautiful, you’re in for a treat.” He latches his mouth back on my clit and I’m soaring, bucking my hips as much as I’m able.
Movement at the end of the room catches my eye. It’s Jace. His dark form is braced in the doorway. His stormy gaze locks on mine. He’s watching Jess eat me out and finger my ass, my naked thighs strapped open. He’s watching me come.
Before I can process, Jess presses in with another finger, pushing deeper, filling me, and grazes his teeth over my swollen clit. The sound tearing from my throat is guttural and savage. I crest again, my eyes squeezing closed as I come harder than I’ve ever come before.
When I finally open my eyes, Jace is gone.
JESS
A man can’t die from blue balls, but it may make him pray for death.
My rule not to fuck drunk women is set in stone, but no one has ever tempted me the way Madeline is right now.
I undo the straps on her thighs and massage the marks made from the way she sweetly struggled against the bindings. God, there has never been a woman hotter for it. And there’s never been a woman I wanted to give it to more.
She snuggles in, resting her head on my shoulder, and her hand runs down my abs. Then lower to palm my cock through my jeans. I jump like a lit-up spark plug. I’m too wound up from pleasuring her. She gives my erection a squeeze, and I think I may come in my pants.
I grab her wrist to stop her movement. “What you doing, baby?” My voice is gravely and choked.
“You haven’t come yet.”
She gives me another squeeze, and my eyes roll back. “I told you the rules. No cock penetration tonight, beautiful.”
She pouts. It’s not a real one, but it’s still damn sexy. “But I want you in my mouth.”
A static buzz fills my ears as all the blood in my body rushes to my dick. Her fingers tug at the waist of my jeans. The button gives and then the zipper slides down. My cock springs free like a convict escaping prison. Her fingers wrap around my length, and my hand wraps around hers, halting her movement.
“Let me do this for you,” she says, imploring like there’s nothing more she wants in the world than to have my dick in her mouth.
She’s a fantasy come to life.
I stare at the ceiling, begging God, any god, for strength. I am but a mortal man. An undeserving mortal man.
Then she says the one thing, the one argument that shakes me to my core. “Jess, we only have tonight. And I don’t want it to be over yet. Do you?”
Fuck. “Come straddle my face.”
Her eyes go wide. “What?”
“You’re going to sit on my face and let me eat you while you suck me.”
Her face goes a rosy hue, and she gulps. I’m getting the feeling Madeline isn’t very experienced, and it makes me want to introduce her to every depraved thought I have in my head to see how dirty she’s willing to get.
I push my pants down to my ankles and kick them off. She’s kneeling next to me, appearing unsure.
“Come on, honey. Don’t get shy on me now.” I pat her hip, and she moves forward, swinging her long leg over me, with her hands braced on my stomach. I arrange her until her glistening pussy hovers right over my mouth.
Before I can lick my treat, she wraps her fingers around my aching cock, leans forward, and takes my whole length to her throat. All the air huffs out of my lungs. Slowly, she licks up my length and back down until I’m flexing my hips in a silent plea for more.
This time, when she takes me in her mouth, she closes her lips and sucks me down. All the way to the back of her throat. She gags a little and pulls back, only to do it again.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Take me as deep as you can.” I hold her head down on me a second and pump in her throat. She chokes but doesn’t struggle. She lets me set up a rhythm that has my balls tingling. “Just like that.”
I smooth my hands up her body and cup her hips to settle her dripping slit over my mouth. Her moan vibrates down my shaft, and the way she grips my cock and works the base as she sucks up and down has my sac pulling tight.
“Fuck Maddie, I’m not going to last,” I warn her.
“Come,” she says, her voice ragged. Her tempo picks up.
“You first,” I growl. I vibrate the tips of my fingers against her clit. Her snug little tunnel convulses on my tongue, and she screams around my cock.
A static charge zips down my spine. I punch my hips up and hold her down on me while I pulse hard in her throat. Only when she starts to choke do I let her up.
Panting, she rests her cheek on my thigh and runs one of her sexy red fi
ngernails down my spent dick, eliciting a full-body shiver from me. She gives a sultry laugh and plants a kiss on the tip of my happy guy. He flexes under her attention trying to grow hard again, and ends up weaving around like a drunk man.
Maddie’s giggle makes my chest tight. She winks at me from over her shoulder, and I flip her around and pin her to the bed under me. She’s wearing a lazy grin and practically glowing. Just looking at her makes me want to sink my dick inside her and stay there.
“You’re not what I expected,” I confess.
“Disappointed?” she asks, genuine curiosity in her voice.
“So far from disappointed.”
She squeals and laughs as I nuzzle the tender side of her neck. It reddens from my scruff, and something feral inside me swells with pride to see my marks on her. I don’t think about tomorrow. I don’t think about how Maddie is the kind of woman I’ve been waiting my whole life for.
One night. One night with Madeline Fitzpatrick will never be enough. But she said that’s all we have.
I’m going to make the most of our one night.
5
J ace
Morning after
I scowl into my bowl of Fruity Pebbles as my brother tiptoes into the kitchen, his boots in hand. He’s grins at me, and I want to punch him in the face. He’s cleaned up, but I swear I can still smell sweet pussy on him.
“I didn’t expect you to be up so early,” he remarks, still fucking grinning.
“I have to get Horace Hetfield’s bike ready by this afternoon.”
“What time is he coming around?” Jess doesn’t ask for my schedule unless he needs a favor.
I pause, the spoon halfway to my mouth, and narrow my eyes on him. “Not till two. Why?”