by BETH KERY
Her arms squeezed Dylan’s waist, and the threatening shadow slinked away slightly. Then Dylan’s arms were surrounding her, and he was pulling her tight against his body. The heavy weight on her chest and throat lifted, granting her air. She inhaled choppily.
“Alice,” he muttered thickly, sounding a little undone.
“Don’t leave me,” she repeated, despising the crack in her voice. She felt his fingers move in her hair and his hand cup the back of her head. His touch urged her to move. She tilted her head back, seeing his face hovering over her. His gaze moved over her face searchingly, landing on her neck. She felt the throb of her exposed pulse. Heat swept through her at his heavy-lidded stare.
“I’m not going to leave you.”
His fierce, quiet declaration sent an electric spark through her, mixing with her fear and anxiety. Something flickered and then flamed high inside her, and whatever it was made her inchoate fear and uncertainty scurry into the darkest places of her consciousness. She felt Dylan stir against her and realized it was desire that had scattered the shadows.
Pure, raw, powerful lust.
Suddenly everything made sense: that strange, thrilling intensity in his eyes when Dylan looked at her, his electric touch on her skin, and her confused but powerful reaction to that touch.
Dylan Fall wanted her. And in that moment, Alice had never wanted or needed anything more than him.
Without thinking, driven by the too recent memory of her fear and the shock of her own sudden, unmasked need, she pressed closer to him, her stare narrowing on his hard mouth. Her hand flew to the back of his neck, her fingers burrowing into his thick hair. It felt even better than she’d imagined it would. She went on her tiptoes and urged him to her. He lowered his head slightly. Her lips brushed against his.
“No, Alice,” he said, but the same mouth that denied her softened ever so slightly. She plucked at his lips, and although he remained mostly still, she felt the leap of tension in his hard body and the slight give in his mouth. His cock hardened even more where it was pressed against her lower belly, the sensation enflaming her. She pressed tighter, her breasts crushing against his lower chest, but still, he wouldn’t participate fully in her kiss. Irritated and aroused, she bit softly at his lower lip, forcing his mouth to open.
“Don’t leave. Stay here with me,” she hissed, her whispered words and her unspoken invitation shocking to her own ears. She slicked her tongue along the seam of his mouth. He uttered a curse, but his tongue came with it.
Abruptly, she was at the core of a hot fire. In a split second, she’d gone from the safe periphery to the center of the inferno, and Fall was consuming her.
He sealed their mouths, molding her lips to his. His tongue penetrated her, sweeping, seeking, owning. His opened hand slid along her hip and cupped one of her ass cheeks, pushing her to him at the same moment he flexed slightly, sliding his erection against her straining body. He leaned down over her, bending his knees slightly, finding the prime angle of penetration for his kiss. He fucked her mouth unapologetically with his tongue while his mouth applied a demanding, precise suction that seemed to pull at her very core. His lips moved, too, molding her to him, shaping their flesh.
It was delicious and heady. He was. He smelled like spice and clean outdoor air and sex. He tasted like heaven. She strained to keep up with his demanding kiss, tangling her tongue with his wildly. Alice gripped his neck and waist tighter, dizzied and overwhelmed by the sudden fierce blast of his hunger.
His big hand slid under her running shorts and underwear, and he was molding her bare ass to his palm. She felt his cock leap against her, the weight and density of his erection maddening her. When he tore his mouth from hers, she strained for him, seeking with her lips. Long fingers delved beneath her panties, searching between her thighs. His fingertip touched her sex. She started like an electrical shock had gone through her.
He held her stare and slowly penetrated her with his forefinger.
She gasped raggedly, sagging against his solid body.
“Is this what you think you want?” he grated out, his mouth hard, his face rigid.
He sent his finger high, withdrew, and then slid it high again. She bit her lip in anguished arousal, lost in his eyes.
“Yes,” she gasped.
“You’re tight and hot. And wet,” he added with a slight snarl as he finger-fucked her. “This is what you need, isn’t it?”
The intimacy of what was happening overwhelmed her. Her forehead fell against his chest, her mouth hanging open. She couldn’t respond. Pleasure and pressure swamped her, fueled by her strange, chaotic emotional state. He backed up slightly, one hand at her back, the other piercing her body, firm and fast. His movement caused her to bend slightly at the waist, improving the angle of his penetration. She was wet. The sound of him moving deliberately and forcefully in her lubricated sex reached her ears. He must have heard it, too, because he growled, the sound feral and thrilling. Suddenly, his hand was gone and he was pushing her toward the desk. Her bottom hit the wood surface, loudly jolting the legs back an inch on the bare floor. He lifted her slightly, setting her ass at the edge of the desk. His hands slid beneath her T-shirt.
“You’re not the only one who needs something, Alice.”
Her heart started to drum loudly in her ears at his low, tense declaration. She wanted him like crazy in that moment, but a Dylan Fall gripped by lust was an awesome, intimidating experience. In her few former sexual relationships, she’d often hesitated in the midst of lovemaking, unsure of what she wanted, second-guessing whether she was giving too much of herself away, or too little. She had offered herself to Fall. But there was no doubt that now that he’d accepted, he would set the pace. He expected her to give herself wholesale. That was how things were done with him.
She read the message in his eyes right now. Clearly, what he wanted was no small taste.
She was blinded for an instant as he jerked her damp T-shirt over her head. She assisted him, whipping her arms through the sleeves, spinning just as furiously in the twist of raw animal lust as him. The embarrassing realization that she was hot and perspiring from her run and being chased flickered across her awareness, but then it was gone, evaporated in an instant by the heat they generated. Besides, sweat somehow seemed appropriate in this wild, desperate, impulsive scenario. Then his fingers were sliding against her perspiration-damp skin beneath her tight jogging bra. He lifted the binding material over her breasts. His actions weren’t rough, but they were precise and forceful. One second, she was wearing the bra, and the next, her breasts bounced softly free from the restricting garment. He flung the twisted fabric heedlessly in the direction of her T-shirt. He paused. Her nipples prickled and tightened at their exposure to the cool air and his hot unwavering stare.
“Jesus,” he muttered, his nostrils flaring slightly. He wore a strange expression of mixed awe and rabid male hunger. His warm hands skimmed up her sides, lightly bracketing her breasts. The easy slide of his skin against hers reminded her again of her sweatiness, but this time it only aroused, as if her perspiration was a prime conductor for all the electricity leaping between them. She cut off a moan at what she saw on his face as he cupped her and held up her breasts for his avid inspection. He pinched at the nipples slightly, plumping them following their constriction in the tight bra.
“Dylan,” she said shakily, the tension building inside her unbearable. Cutting.
“It’s okay. I’m just amazed,” she thought she heard him say through the roar in her ears. “You’re larger than I thought you’d be. You hide yourself. I knew you’d be beautiful but … not like this.” His thumbs whisked over her nipples and they tightened almost painfully. He glanced up at her. She bit her lip when she saw the gleam of humor mixing with the arousal in his eyes. “You’re a goddess disguised as a bad-girl math geek, Alice Reed.” Again, his thumbs whisked over the sensitive nipples, coaxing them to stiff peaks. Her sex thrilled and tightened at his touch, like she was an inst
rument and he was plucking her strings knowingly. Her flesh sang. She whimpered, but what she wanted to do was scream.
“Don’t tease me,” she insisted hoarsely as he watched her reaction like a hawk while he played with her, and she watched him in turn.
“No. Not now,” he agreed, his amusement once again replaced by his rapier-sharp focus.
She held her breath in sharp anticipation as he moved his hands to her back. “I’ve got you,” he urged, and she realized he wanted her to arch for him … display herself for his consumption. The thought made liquid surge at her core. Her back curved and she leaned into his hold. “That’s right,” he praised, taking her partial weight with his hands and lowering her torso a few inches. He stepped into her, forcing her thighs to part for him. He flexed his hips, grinding his erection against her pelvis and lower belly. Without pause, his dark head lowered and he took a breast into his warm mouth.
He was greedy from the first. She’d known he would be. She cried out when he applied a firm suck and laved the nipple vigorously with his tongue. He must taste her sweat. Her desire. Hot forbidden pleasure spiked through her. She loved it. She stared at the vision of his dark head hovering over the thrusting pale mound of her breast, his mouth latched to the tip, his firm lips clamped around her. His cheeks hollowed out slightly as he drew on her.
It was the most erotic vision she’d ever seen in her life.
Helpless in the clutches of sexual heat like she’d never before experienced, she circled her hips, pressing her sex against the root of his cock. Wild. Frantic. Still supporting her with one hand, he fondled her other breast, shaping the mound to his palm. She loved the way he held her in his hand so possessively almost as much as the way he sucked her so surely. He made a rough sound in his throat, the vibrations penetrating her, thrilling her.
He lifted his head, switching to the other breast without pause. Using his hand, he plumped her for his mouth, sucking the nipple into his humid heat. His focused lust was palpable. It was too much, the pleasure so precise it bordered on pain. Alice squirmed in anguished arousal. She put her hands on the desk behind her, heedlessly scattering a few papers across the desk and onto the floor, using her hold for added pressure to grind against him. The sensation of the shape and fullness of his cock behind his clothing only amplified her frenzy.
He lightly brought down his palm on her naked thigh.
Her eyes popped wide at the slapping sound of skin against skin. It hadn’t hurt, but it’d been a mild remonstrance. She forced her writhing to still. The beast is feasting, and he doesn’t want to be disturbed. Even her humorous thought sent her into a deeper trance of lust.
Of forgetfulness.
Now that she was supporting herself, he used both of his hands to hold up her breasts, pushing them together. It was a lewd, blatant display of ripe sexuality. The mounds were pale compared to his hands and her tanned arms, chest, and shoulders. Her nipples were usually a delicate pink color, but the one that wasn’t in his ravening mouth at the moment was reddened, damp, and pebbled from his attentions. He ran his thumb over it while he greedily sucked, and Alice keened, twisting her hips against his cock. She was no better than an animal in heat in that moment.
Worse, because she had no excuse for her wantonness.
The next thing she knew, he was lifting her off the desk and turning her. She was growing used to the way he handled her. It wasn’t rough, by any means, but he never hesitated for a second in positioning her precisely how he wanted her. The combination of his single-mindedness and exacting strength was a potent aphrodisiac.
“What are you doing, squirming around like that, little girl?” he demanded roughly near her ear, a hint of dark amusement in his tone. His mouth moved on her neck. He bit gently on the shell of her ear and she cried out. She backed against him, finding what she wanted, grinding her ass against his cock. He was a full, delightful package, so primal, flagrant … male. She bared her teeth, desperate to rid him of the jeans and feel him, hot and hard, skin to skin. She reached around, her hand finding him, grasping the dense column through his jeans.
He groaned roughly and grabbed her hand. He placed it on the desk in front of her.
“Both hands on the desk,” he ordered. “Bend over.”
She did what he demanded, acquiescent because she felt him shift behind her and the movement of his hands between their straining bodies. He was freeing his cock.
He was going to give her what she wanted.
She looked over her shoulder, panting, hungry for the vision of him. Her own body blocked it, however. She saw his hands moving hastily between his thighs, unfastening his jeans. She turned around, reaching for him single-mindedly.
A surprised, stupid-sounding yelp popped out of her throat when she was suddenly spinning around again, and Dylan was placing her hands on the desk.
“Bend over,” he repeated, low and succinct near her ear. She complied, only because following his demand was a quicker method to attain her ultimate goal. Then his thumbs were hooking the waistband of her running shorts and panties. He jerked them downward in a perfunctory motion to her knees. The garments fell to her ankles.
“Step out of them,” he commanded gruffly.
She kicked aside her shorts and underwear, now nude save some bootie socks and her running shoes. He placed a hand on her lower back and pressed, urging her to bend over more. The head of his cock brushed against her ass. She moaned, heat rushing through her at the sensation of the bulbous smooth head and the sheer weight of his arousal. He held her hips and flexed. The long, thick shaft slid against her perspiration-damp naked skin. His rough groan fused with hers.
“Is that what you wanted?” he asked in a tight, feral tone as he continued to glide his taut, naked cock back and forth against her ass.
“Yes. Yes,” she assured, clamping her eyelids shut, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of the moment. Her hand rose from the desk and she began to reach behind her hip, craving the feeling of his cock in her hand. He was faster than her, though. He grabbed her wrist and placed it gently back on the desk.
“Keep your hands there, damn it. I’m about to burst for you,” he bit out roughly. Breathing raggedly, she followed his direction. He stroked her hip and ass. “Your skin is so soft. Such a beautiful color,” he said, as if forcing all the tension out of his tone. The heavy shaft of his cock thumped into the crack of her ass. He cupped the cheeks, molding the flesh around the shaft and sawed his hips back and forth. His groan sounded like it tore at his throat.
“You’re so sweet. I don’t know what the hell is happening here,” she heard him say thickly as he continued to pulse his cock in the furrow of her ass, “but you’re impossible to resist, Alice.”
FIVE
She made a desperate soughing sound, sensation flooding her. She was spinning out of control.
He thrust and squeezed her ass tighter against his cock. Then his hands were gone, and she made a muffled sound of bemusement.
“It’s okay,” he murmured from behind her. “Condom.”
He left his cock throbbing next to her ass, the sensation taunting her. She heard the sound of the condom package ripping. She bit her lip to cut off a sharp cry. The anticipation was killing her. It only grew worse when he rolled on the condom while his cock was still burning her skin. She felt his hand slide down the shaft, and then the hard, thick crown pressing against her slit. He pulled back one buttock, opening her further to him. He pressed. She gasped, her eyes springing wide as he slowly entered her body. He must have interpreted her loud exhale as a sign of discomfort, because he paused.
“Shhh,” he quieted, one hand making a soothing gesture at her hip while the other one cupped her ass and kept her in place for his possession. He pulsed his hips back and forth gently. Her flesh began to melt around him.
“That’s right,” he muttered, flexing until she gritted her teeth at the pressure and pleasure. He was patient, but firm, in gaining entrance. Determined. Again, she had that vivid imp
ression that once Dylan Fall started something, he never wavered.
She was glad. So glad.
“You’re so tight. So wet,” she heard him say as if through a tunnel.
“Oh God,” she cried out in high-pitched disbelief as he slowly, but surely, slid into her to the hilt. He held her against him, not letting her move. She felt his balls press against her outer tissues. Her breath stuck in her lungs. He stretched her, filled her. He was in her pussy, but he overwhelmed her mind … her very being.
Dylan pushed everything else away.
Yes. This is what she needed. Nothing else existed but him in that moment—Dylan and this frothing, volatile need.
He began to move his hips in a taut, fluid, rapid pumping motion. He groaned harshly. Alice’s mouth fell open in disbelieving pleasure. What was he doing to her? She’d had sex before, but she’d never experienced this. The friction was unbearable. Savage. Sweet. His pelvis slapped against her ass as he pumped harder. Air popped out of her lungs.
“Oh Jesus,” she gasped, her eyelids clenching tight. He held her hips and buttocks firmly in his hands, tilting her pelvis upward slightly, serving her to his pillaging cock. He was ruthless. She gripped the desk tighter, stiffening her arms to brace herself for the impact of him. He continued to fuck her fast and furious using that strong, rhythmic, slightly circular motion of his hips. She rocked back and forth as they crashed together. She pushed back against him, the ache in her mounting. Swelling. The sound of their slapping skin filled her ears.
God, the man knew how to fuck.
“You feel good, baby. Too good,” he rasped from behind her. “Sweet, hot little pussy. It’s going to be hard to go slow with you,” he grated out, his tempo never breaking. He thrust deep and groaned. “Maybe impossible,” he added, sounding angry at his conclusion.
Heat flooded her cheeks and her sex at his illicit words. The friction he built was unbearable. She lost all sense of time or purpose as he took her by storm. The chaotic brew of emotion and lust reached a boiling point, his pounding cock sending her over the edge …