Naughty Bits

by Lacy Danes

  His jacket whispered a protest as she slid her arms free. His hand cupped her cheek in one of those easy touches that reached all the way to her soul, catching her before she could step away. His hazel eyes were dark in the moonlight. She leaned her cheek into his gloved palm and sighed. “I’m an idiot.”

  His answer was immediate. “Yes, you are, but you’re mine, and I kind of like you this way.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “A neurotic mess?”

  His thumb brushed her mouth and a chuckle quirked his lips before his hand dropped away. “Vulnerable.”

  She held out her hand for her suitcase. “Uh-huh. Well, don’t get used to it.”

  He paused before dragging the cooler out and putting it on the snow-encrusted ground. “I’ll try to keep my appreciation limited to the weekend.”

  She averted her eyes as he settled a brown box on the cooler’s white top. “Thank you.”

  He closed the trunk and hefted the cooler and box. “My pleasure.”

  Becky followed as Marc led the way down the hill to the cabin, admiring the way his jeans clung to his thighs with each step delineating the strength beneath. She wondered if he was thinking the same things she was. She wondered if his cock was hardening as quickly as her pussy was moistening. God! She wanted him. Wanted this. And she shifted the suitcase as she hurried to keep up, she was not going to allow anything to stop her from obtaining her goal. She might have more than her fair share of inhibitions, but she also had more than her fair share of determination, and of the two qualities, the second was stronger than the first.

  The cabin was cold, the vaulted ceilings and log walls harboring the chill of the outside. She turned up the thermostat on the furnace and set to work on the fire as Marc made the bed and unpacked the food.

  From the corner of her eye, she could see the brown box on the coffee table, looking lost in the vastness of the room. The innocent-looking brown box that held all the sex toys they’d selected together. Anything and everything they’d seen that they thought they might use. It had been tough to ignore the expense, but as it seemed the height of ridiculousness to be prudent when pursuing decadence, she’d conquered her caution to the point of maybe going overboard. She battled an unreasonable urge to toss the throw from the couch over it.

  As if there was anyone here to see. As if Marc was going to have a problem with anything contained in it. The man had adventure in his bones. She was the one with all the good-girls-don’t hang-ups. Heck, judging from his comments as she’d pointed out a few things she’d been interested in and from the confidence with which he’d made his selections, there probably wasn’t anything in the box of which he didn’t have firsthand knowledge. Just not with her.

  And that fast, she added another emotion to the turbulence of the evening. Jealousy that her husband’s past lovers had been more adventurous than she.

  He came up behind her as she stood by the fire. She shivered as he moved her hair aside, baring her neck. The heat of his breath touched her first, moist and tantalizing, brushing across her sensitive nerve endings in an evocative arc.

  “Ready?”

  The question whispered against her neck. Goose bumps sprang up in a silent “Hell, yes,” she couldn’t get past her throat. She tilted her head, inviting a kiss instead, shuddering when he gave it to her. His cock pressed against her buttocks, rock-hard and eager while his hands slid down her sleeves until his fingers intertwined with hers.

  She gripped his hands in hers. “As I’ll ever be.”

  He laughed into the curve of her shoulder, sending new goose bumps chasing after the last set, the flick of his tongue encouraging their tingling spread to her breast and nipples. His big hands whispered across the front of her coat, taunting both breasts with the promise of a touch she couldn’t feel, making her strain for any ghost of sensation. The tension in her limbs gathered in her pussy, throbbing with an eagerness that faintly embarrassed her. As if a woman should consider her attraction to her husband a weakness.

  “Having second thoughts?”

  “I’m a little stuck in my ways.”

  He turned her in his arms. “At the risk of repeating myself yet again, I like your ways.”

  No, he didn’t; he couldn’t. She didn’t even like them. “And that’s why you always hold back with me.”

  “Is that a complaint?”

  She wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. “I’m not the one who should be complaining.”

  Two fingers under her chin brought her gaze up. “The reason you haven’t heard me complain is because I don’t have any complaints.”

  “You want a woman who lets go, who can let you be in charge.”

  His gaze never wavered from hers. “The only woman I want is you.”

  She dropped her forehead into his chest. The down of his coat cushioned her landing. “I know.”

  His arms came around her shoulders. “So what’s the problem?”

  “I want to be that woman, too!”

  There, her not-so-secret secret was out.

  His coat rustled as his lips touched her temple. “Have I ever told you I think you’re a nut?”

  She shook her head.

  His smile spread against her temple. “I’m fairly sure I have.”

  “Not today.”

  “My mistake.” This time it was his thumb that propped her chin up. “You know I’ll give you anything you want, in or out of the bedroom.”

  She knew that. He was a very generous lover. She turned her head and cleared her throat. To her dismay, her voice still held a betraying husk of uncertainty. “I know.”

  “And you want this?”

  She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and held on. “The one place I never wanted to be in charge was the bedroom.”

  And it was the one place where she couldn’t seem to let go. His hand stroked her hair, pulling her cheek to his chest, holding her tight. “Ah, baby.”

  “I know.” She closed her eyes. “I’m a nut.”

  His thumb pressed against her lower lip, bringing her eyes back open. “No, you’re my wife.”

  She angled her head back and wrinkled her nose. “Who’s a nut.”

  “Who’s everything I want.” His gaze didn’t leave hers. “Just the way she is.”

  That wasn’t good enough anymore. At least not for her. “But what if I don’t want to be this way?”

  “Then we change.”

  She had so many hang-ups, so many reasons for how she was, none of them worth holding onto. “What if I can’t?”

  “Then we keep trying.”

  She took a breath and released his wrist, clutching his coat sleeve instead. She sighed. “You make it sound so easy.”

  “All you’ve got to do is whatever I tell you. No right, no wrong. No need to think.” He arched his eyebrow at her. “How hard can it be?”

  Not that hard. At least in theory. “Marc?”

  He reached around her and closed the door to the woodstove. “Right here.”

  “Have I mentioned how much I love you?”

  “I’m open to hearing it again.”

  The familiar response given with that familiar smile took away more of her nervousness. This was Marc. She trusted him with her life. She could certainly trust him with her sexuality. She linked her hands around his neck and snuggled her hips into his, giving him a smile back of her own. “Make it worth my while and I will.”

  His brow arched. “Is that a challenge?”

  She did her best to look demure. “Maybe.”

  “That sounded like a challenge.”

  “I would never challenge you.”

  His smile spread. “Like hell.”

  “Well,” she amended, “not without reason.”

  His hands cupped her hips, his fingers stretching to the sensitive inside of her thighs. With an easy flex of muscle he lifted her up. Becky wrapped her legs around his hips as he turned. This close she could see the desire darkening the green of his eyes, feel the tension hummin
g under his skin, feel that side of his personality she’d always fought surge. His gaze held hers, the blue more prominent than the green as it always was when he was aroused. “It’s risky business challenging a man with my nature.”

  She feathered her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck. “Maybe I’ve just decided it’s time to see how much bite there is to your bark.”

  “Uh-huh. Know what happens to women who play with fire?”

  Her hips jostled against his as he walked to the bedroom, the soft cotton of her sweatpants doing nothing to protect her from the pressure against her clit. Desire sparkled through her blood. Excitement shortened her breath. She loved it when he went all macho on her. “Nope.”

  Marc stopped just inside the bedroom door, his gaze holding hers as he let her slide down his body, the hot length of his cock caressing the inside of her thighs until her toes touched the floor. Her held her there, suspended in his embrace, his cock notched between her legs, pressing against her through his jeans and her pants as he drawled, “Their husbands get to see how hot they can make them burn.”

  He let her go. She stumbled, caught between the king-size bed behind her and her husband in front, daring and dread rising with equal fervor.

  Of course, he saw. He touched her cheek. “What?”

  “Don’t let me ruin this.”

  He shook his head, the firm line of his mouth softening. “There’s no way you can ruin anything.”

  But she could fail. She grabbed his hand. “Promise me you’ll just do it like we talked about.”

  He frowned. “I can’t promise that. Not if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

  “I might be uncomfortable at first, but I swear I’ll enjoy it.”

  “Let’s see.”

  He took her hand in his, pulling it behind his back, pulling her into his arms. The touch of his lips on hers was firm when she’d expected soft, commanding when she’d expected reassurance, throwing her off balance. While she struggled to find the rhythm in the kiss, he caught both of her hands and moved them behind her back, anchoring them in one of his, keeping her helpless as his mouth took charge of hers. Fire streaked from her breasts, her thighs, her lips, leaping along her nerve endings, the feeling of helplessness feeding the flames.

  The zipper of her coat rasped louder than her heartbeat as he slid it down. His palm swallowed the small mound of her breast, bare beneath her shirt because he’d requested it, pressing and massaging, stoking the burning ache, sending it deeper, and all she could do was stand there and take the pleasure he was giving her. The way he wanted. Oh God. Her knees buckled. It was so good.

  He caught her easily, holding her still for more of his touch, his desire. The pinch of his thumb and forefinger on her nipple made her jump, except she couldn’t go anywhere, do anything. He was in charge. In complete control. Her lids fluttered open. He was staring down at her, the desire burning so brightly in her mirrored in the tight set of his expression. Along with that realization came another. He liked her like this. The knowledge settled deep, giving her the courage to lower her lids, lick her lips, and ask, “Is that all you’ve got?”

  His laugh was more sensual than amused; the answer he gave short and to the point. “Hardly.”

  The pressure on her nipple increased to the point of pain. His gaze never left hers as she waited, breath suspended in her chest, womb clenched expectantly, whether in hope or dread, she didn’t know. With a small smile, he released her nipple and turned her around. Becky stood there, breath shuddering, adrenaline flowing for three uncomprehending seconds until he said, “Bend over.”

  And the conflagration started again, her mind racing ahead of her actions, picturing how she’d look to him, her hands braced on the bed, her rear thrust back in a purely submissive pose.

  When she would have shrugged off her coat, Marc caught her shoulders. “No.”

  Subtle pressure bent her over. She caught her weight on her hands, feeling awkward and vulnerable and as turned on as she’d ever been as his hand grazed up the inside of her thigh, pressing her leg to the left in a smooth demand before repeating the same caress with the other leg.

  His fingertips pressed lightly against her pussy. “I’ve been thinking about this since morning.”

  It was a struggle to find her voice. “What exactly is ‘this’?”

  His shadow fell over her as he stood, making her vividly aware of his size, the need to dominate he’d always kept in check for her. The need she’d asked him to let loose. His hands on the waistband of her sweatpants were cold. She jumped. Her pants and underwear followed the shiver as it snaked down to her toes. “Your ass.”

  Which told her nothing and suggested everything.

  The snap of his fingers against her right cheek had her jumping again. “Push back.”

  She did.

  Another tiny slap, this one so soft it seemed to absorb the sting of the other. In the aftermath, his palm lingered. “You liked that?”

  There was no way she could deny it, even if every liberated bone in her body demanded that she do so. Those betraying goose bumps were at it again, telegraphing her delight. The zipper of his jeans rasped loudly in the silence. She swallowed hard; the image of him taking her fully clothed played like a siren’s lure in her mind. Hard, deep, his focus on his pleasure. Oh yes. She wanted him to take her like that. To use her for his satisfaction, to let her be nothing more than what he needed this once. Not having to think, to worry, just being there to satisfy him would be so good.

  His fingers slipped between her thighs, callused and rough, sliding easily across her shaved labia. His laugh, when he found her open and wet, held the smile she’d missed earlier.

  “Looks like you’ve been thinking, too.”

  “Yes.” She always thought about him.

  “Did you prepare yourself like I ordered?”

  He could feel that she had, so he must just want to hear her say it. “Yes.” Admitting that sent another quiver of delight through her. Took her another step deeper into her fantasy where her submissive side got free rein.

  “Good.”

  He eased his cock up the crack of her ass. It slid smoothly on the lubricated skin, making her shudder and push back. His thumbs rubbed the inside of her cheeks, holding her open for the next stroke.

  The fat head of his cock caught on the edge of her anus. Hunger, hot and dark, shot inward. Her cry was involuntary. He didn’t move, didn’t even seem to breathe for a second—and then he snuggled the broad head against the tight opening, teasing her with the promise of the forbidden.

  “Step out of your pants,” he ordered darkly, then stood still, letting her efforts to follow his order work him up and down the crease.

  As soon as she was free, she resumed her position. He pushed her ankle with his foot. “Wider.”

  She complied immediately, feeling completely exposed. It only increased her excitement. His cock throbbed against her. The touch of his fingers changed from caressing to possessive as he moved her around, letting the head of his cock probe first her ass and then lower; not entering, just stroking like one might with a finger.

  It was pure torment to stand so, bent over, exposed, wondering where he would take her. When? Would he be fast or slow? Would he let her come, or would he leave her hanging, deliciously full of his semen, pulsing with anticipation?

  He rubbed his cock over her buttocks. Despite her efforts to stay quiet, a whimper escaped. It felt too good to tolerate in silence. He rubbed some more. She gave up the effort to control her breathing. It came out ragged and loud.

  He pulled back and his cock tapped at her anus. “Are you ready for me?”

  He had to know she was. He’d told her to keep herself always ready for him and she did though he’d never taken her that way. Mainly because she always froze up. Her “Yes” was a soft moan of expectancy.

  He slid a finger in her ass. The tight ring spasmed, clutching him hard.

  “Oh God,” she moaned, trying to steady her kn
ees beneath the surge of pleasure.

  “I guess you are,” he murmured at the smoothness of his entry, probing gently. She moaned again and pushed back, trying to establish a rhythm. He stretched her wider and introduced another finger. For a moment, she balked, tightening against the invasion. He paid her no mind, pulling his fingers out, dragging against her sensitive flesh as he withdrew.

  “Relax and push back,” he coaxed, easing them back in, spreading her as he did. “You know you love this.”

  She did. She loved it when he played with her ass, no matter how he took it. Gentle or rough, it turned her on until she could scream just thinking about him eventually claiming it. She took a breath, waited for the next withdrawal and then pushed back.

  “That’s it,” he murmured. “Show me how much you like it.”

  She didn’t have much choice. Her nerves were on fire. Her entire being focused on his fingers and the pace he was setting, slow and easy when she wanted hard and fast, every twist, every scissor of his fingers divine torture. When she was almost screaming with frustration, he pulled free.

  His cock tapped her frantically throbbing opening. She jerked up, hips hungrily rearing back, wanting the consummation. Only to be denied again when he stepped back. She dropped her head to the mattress, her pussy aching, ass clenching, feeling so empty she thought she’d die from it.

  Marc nudged her foot with his again. She widened her stance. It took two more nudges before she was at the level he wanted, legs wide, tight muscles straining, every sense attuned to him, wanting him. “Perfect.”

  It was the only warning she had before he pushed his thick cock into her pussy. She bucked and would have collapsed if he hadn’t anchored her hips with his hands, holding her steady for the solid penetration.