Her thighs clenched around Ian’s wrist, hugging his hand. God, her panties were already soaked, but Ian’s crude words made her nerves hum. He’d talked dirty to her plenty of times, and she’d loved every profane whisper. She’d started getting the courage to do the same with him. But this was rougher. More indecent. More…animal.
“Oh Jesus—” she burst out. It turned into a long groan as Ian pressed her clit through her slippery panties. More fingers explored her pussy, pulling aside the thin silky strip of her thong. When one fingertip found her juice-slicked entrance and pushed inward, she yelped, opening her legs to Ian’s touch.
“You need to drive,” she managed.
“I’m driving all right.”
His finger worked deeper into her tight warmth. Dear Lord, his firm rubs on her clit, right on the precipice between pleasure and pain, sent pulses of heat through her crotch and thighs. She couldn’t wait for her bedroom, she had to feel him too… She ran her hand swiftly up Ian’s leg to capture the raging erection in his jeans.
“Don’t touch,” he ordered in a strangled voice. She stared at him. “I touch you. You don’t touch me.”
Slowly, she uncurled her fingers. She clutched the seat instead.
When they roared into their neighborhood, Ian slammed on the brakes in front of the O’Brians’ house and parked in his wide driveway. Thank God both their houses were dark. As soon as she stepped out of the Jeep, strong arms scooped her up.
“Fuck,” she gasped, laughing as Ian carried her across her front lawn. But Ian wasn’t laughing.
“Give me your key,” he grated at the front door.
Trapped in his arms, aroused from his attention in the car, she got her purse free and found her keys. She hung on to Ian’s neck as he unlocked her door and kicked it open, then shut, behind them. He took the stairs two at a time, holding her tight. She jounced in his grasp, breathless.
In her room, Ian threw her on the bed. The breath was knocked out of her as she bounced on the soft mattress. Impatient hands unzipped her flowered dress, ripped off her bra, tore off her panties.
“Cute little dress,” he muttered. “Looks good on your hot body. Looks better on the floor.”
Diana reached for his shirt, but he pushed her back down. She’d never seen Ian lose his clothes so fast. Lust distorted his face.
On all fours, crouched over her, he caged her in with his hands and knees. She tried to lift her head to meet him, but he seized her hair. Lips and teeth bruised her mouth with kisses. Suction on her neck made the bed drop out from under her. When pressure met her breasts, she gasped. Strong hands squeezed her generous swells. Diana moaned, arching her back to rub her nipples against his palms, but Ian straddled her, pinning her down.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he ground out. “These tits. I want to eat them.”
She would have laughed, but she was far past laughing, spread out naked beneath him. She was past talking. She was so vulnerable as Ian fondled her breasts, pinching her rosy nipples into aching peaks. His hands were everywhere, possessive and hot and moving so swiftly she could barely keep up.
“Then eat them,” she panted.
Heat met her hard nipples, one then the other. Ian’s hands and mouth were a blur. But wait — something was happening, an intense sensation at the curve of one heavy breast. He was sucking the underside, hard, while he pinched her nipple.
“Yes…” When she yanked his hair, Ian’s sucks became greedier. “Ian, Jesus—”
He pulled back, his eyes glittering. “Oh yeah. You’ll see it tomorrow, little girl. A secret for you and me.”
“Let me touch you—”
“I’m not letting you do anything, baby.”
She was shaking, scared and excited at the same time, and very aware of how much stronger Ian was. One hand felt roughly between her legs, palming her sopping pussy. Pressure at her entrance made her moan. Instinctively she opened her thighs, and fingers filled her cunt.
“Ian… Oh God…”
He muffled her cries in a dominating kiss. There was no other word for it, no other way to describe how Ian’s lips took hers. When he let go, her mouth throbbed.
“This isn’t fair.”
“Who said it was fair?”
“It should be,” she gritted, and did she even know what she meant?
“Who ever said love was fair, Diana?”
Ian’s hand left her pussy. His eyes were dark and wild, his hair a mess. She tried to pull him back. Instead, tangy warmth met her tongue. Ian was pushing his fingers into her mouth. She gasped, taking them in.
She’d licked her juices off Ian’s fingers countless times, but this was different. He was fucking her mouth, barely giving her time to taste her cream and the salt of his skin. His handsome face was glazed with animal lust.
This was torture. She couldn’t wait. She needed his touch between her legs again, finding out her secrets, knowing her most private place. As she frantically sucked his fingers, her own hand slipped over her folds to rub her eager clit.
A sharp pinch on her nipple made her bite down. Ian pulled free and pounced on her. Diana squirmed under the sudden weight.
“Mine,” Ian growled. “My pussy. Don’t touch.”
“Then do something about it, you bastard,” she panted.
The next thing she knew, his head was between her legs and a burning tongue slurped up her cream. Lips closed on her clit, sucking hard on the swollen bud. Her hands fisted in his thick hair, pulling with all her strength. He grunted, his sucking even hungrier, his tongue greedier for her juices.
When her back arched, he gripped her soft thighs, digging into her flesh. Jesus, the discomfort of being held down and the pleasure of Ian’s lips on her clit made her scream out loud.
“Oh yeahhhh,” he muttered. “Scream for me, Diana. I’m going to make you scream even louder.”
The window was open. Everyone would hear her, everyone would know— and Ian’s lips and tongue were relentless. She didn’t care anymore. Right now, she wanted the world to know.
His mouth sent sparks through her pussy as he sucked with white-hot intensity. Juices ran down her ass, soaking the sheets. Hands ravished her hips and thighs, pinching and possessing, until her cunt quivered around sudden fullness.
“Ian, please—”
His fingers flexed inside her. Heat ran all over her swollen lips, wet core, and tender clit, over and over. He was moving too fast for her to grab his hair, to lift her hips, to do anything at all but come.
She arched her back, motionless. Ian’s fingers and tongue never stopped stroking. Sweet Jesus, he was pulling her orgasm out of her. Taking her as she came. And she was giving herself to Ian with every clutch of her pussy, squeezing down on him with pure desire.
When he withdrew, anger pricked her body. It made no sense, but she glared up at him.
“Turn over,” he gritted. The low command made her shiver.
“Make me,” she tossed at him.
He grabbed her, wrestling her soft curves. She fought back, biting the swell of his shoulder, clutching his powerful arms, raking her nails down his back with all her strength.
Why was she fighting? She wanted Ian to take her. He knew it. She knew it. When he flipped her over, the bed shook.
“Bad girl.” Blunt flesh pushed against her cunt. “Fuck, you're wet.”
One arm pulled her to her knees. Palms spread her cheeks. She gasped when his cock speared her. He sank in and held her firmly against him.
“Sweet baby,” he rasped. “So tight. And burning hot.”
A smack on her ass drove the air out of her. Yes…she wanted more, she wanted Ian to really spank her…but before she could speak, he began to move.
“Oh God— oh God—” Her breath left her mouth in gasps. From behind, Ian thrust again and again. Every pulse of his shaft was delicious agony. She tried tilting her hips toward him, but one hand squeezed her waist and the other had a tight grip on her hair.
“I’m gonna fu
ck you all the way through, Diana,” his low voice rasped. “Mine.”
She moaned at the hard flesh piercing her cunt. The rocking bed, the creaking mattress, the hand grabbing her swaying breast — everything was happening so fast. His cock was smooth, slick, alive, plunging deep. Her dark room spun around her. She clutched her sheets, her thighs spreading wider. When she buried her face in her pillow, tears bloomed on the fabric.
“Ian —”
“So wet,” he groaned. “Such a sweet little pussy all for me.”
She was. She was so wet. His arm circled her waist, tense and muscled. With every pinch on her nipple, pain and pleasure flared. His hand left her breast to spread her pussy open. When fingers surrounded her clit, she spasmed around Ian’s cock, jerking in his firm embrace.
“Yeah,” he grunted. He massaged the sensitive bud, rubbing faster and faster. Heavy arms and legs caged her in. “I’m fucking you, baby. There’s nothing you can do except come on my cock.”
She cried out. Ian’s strokes were demanding. Insistent. Owning. His fingers were relentless on her exposed clit. As she tried to move against him, her pussy contracted, clasping him in a long, helpless orgasm.
“More…”
His breath burned her neck. “You're gonna come as long as I want you to. You're hot. You're fire. You're going to explode.”
She was already exploding. Pleasure rushed her body. She pressed her face into the pillow, the soft cotton her only anchor.
No. Ian was her anchor. Molded to her, holding her against him, fucking her ferociously.
“Mine,” he hissed.
“Mine.” Diana tried to push back, but his tight embrace trapped her. He felt enormous from behind.
“Mine.” He emphasized the word with a hard thrust.
“Mine.” Now she could move, just barely, and the friction made her silken cunt ripple around him.
“Fuck. Diana. You're mine. Mine. Mine.” Each syllable was punctuated by the sharp sweetness of his cock sinking deep.
“Yours,” she whispered.
Ian groaned, his body tightening. He seized her hair again. Grunts of release overlapped her cries as he came in long strokes, spurting inside her.
Afterward, he stayed buried in her cunt. Their ragged breathing smoothed out. A breeze from the window stirred damp hair on sweaty skin. The fullness eased off as he withdrew and lay down next to her.
Her knees buckled. She slumped into strong arms.
“Ian?” she whispered.
“I’m here.”
Dazed hazel met hers. Her head flopped onto his chest. His skin was sticky with sweat, or was it hers?
Downstairs, the garage door opened. Her heart beat faster, but she was too exhausted to move. She was completely entwined in Ian’s long arms and legs.
“Diana, honey?” her mother called into the dark house. Ian’s arms tightened around her.
“She’s not home, Julie,” her father said. “She told us at breakfast she’d be out with her friends again tonight.”
“She’s never home anymore,” her mother sighed.
“She’s having fun. She should enjoy herself.”
“I know.” The garage door rumbled closed. “She was so serious in high school. But I’d like to have just a little of her before she leaves.”
“So tell her. Make some time together.”
“All right. Here’s something from Yale in the mail.” There was a pause.
“What is it?” her father asked.
“I worry about her going to college, Stuart. She’s just so…innocent. What does she know about the world?”
“Diana has her head on straight. She’s going to accomplish great things,” her father said reassuringly. “She plays it down, but I hear she’s impressing everyone in her lab.”
Ian shifted next to her. Diana opened her legs, letting him wedge his thigh between them. Her body throbbed from his rough treatment. Her pussy ached from his primal thrusts. He stroked her hair, his fingers gentle where’d they’d been brutal just minutes ago.
“Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Clinking sounds came from downstairs — her mother, bustling around the kitchen. “I should prep the coleslaw for the O’Brians’ barbecue tomorrow.” Her voice was brisk now, the worry gone. “Brooke said the twins will be there. I keep hoping, with Diana and Brendan…well, that they’ll see more of each other. I’ve told him he’s welcome here any time.”
“Brendan’s a nice enough kid.” Her father sounded dubious. “But between you and me, I don’t think he’s smart enough for our daughter.”
A snort from Ian vibrated his chest against hers and puffed warm air into her hair. She shook her head, too spent to talk.
“Brendan’s smart,” her mother protested. “And very accomplished. He’s involved in so many things, even his parents can’t keep track of everything he’s up to. Maybe he doesn’t have the time. He’s got his internship, volunteering for the mayor, training for basketball season, and who knows what else. Oh, and keeping his brother out of trouble, of course.”
“Is he? Keeping his brother out of trouble, I mean.”
“He seems to be. I keep hearing that Ian’s so much better now. He isn’t rolling across the doorstep at six am or stumbling around with a hangover at noon.” There was a shudder in her mother’s voice. “No speeding tickets, no pileups. Brooke said he’s even studying to make up the classes he flunked last year. Thank God. His parents about tore their hair out when he went on academic probation. Of course when it happened, he acted like he didn’t care.”
A low rumble stirred Ian’s chest against her cheek.
So that was the “situation” his dad had brought up. Why hadn’t Ian told her? Flunking multiple classes — she knew people did it, but it was hard to wrap her head around it. Especially when grades had come first for the past seven years.
She lifted her head to look at him, but he turned away.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” she whispered. “I know who you are and what you can do.”
“Well, that’s good news.” From downstairs, her father’s voice was doubtful. “I’m sure the O’Brians appreciate the reprieve.”
“We’ll see how long it lasts. You just wonder where that boy would be without his brother.”
Her parents’ voices floated up the stairs, getting closer, then fading as they went into their bedroom and closed the door.
She lay there with Ian for long minutes. Moonlight striped the bed, filtered through the branches of the huge tree outside her window, as his chest rose and fell in time with hers. Her hand found his shoulder. As she slipped into sleep, he kissed the top of her head.
Movement startled her awake. She reached for dew-drenched grass to remind herself that she was outside, the way she always did when she woke during the night. But her hand met a male body, shifting position, and when she kicked involuntarily, she felt blankets and heard a soft grunt.
“Ian?” she whispered. “Don’t go home.”
He pushed back the comforter, unfolded his body from her embrace, and stood. Silhouetted in front of the window, he tucked her comforter around her.
“Get some rest,” he said hoarsely. “You’ll sleep better alone.”
“Stay the night.” Her voice was husky. “Let my parents find you in my bed in the morning. I don’t care. Tell them you’re Ian, not Brendan.”
“Really?” Ian’s eyes, framed with dark lashes, were fixed on her. “Really, Diana? That’s how you want it?”
“Yes. I’m sick of secrets.”
He bent to kiss her. His lithe body, outlined in moonlight, seemed shaky. She glimpsed the scratches she’d left on his shoulder.
“I love you.” His voice was gruff. “And that’s not how I want it.”
“I love you too.” There were no other words.
Diana watched through half-closed eyes as he pulled on his clothes. When he pointed to the window screen, she nodded, and he took it off. He picked up his shoes and dropped them one afte
r the other out the window. Two soft thuds sounded on the ground below.
Climbing easily onto her desk, he maneuvered through the window frame and out to the tree. Then there was only the soft sound of branches rustling in the night.
Chapter Ten
At six in the morning, Diana dragged herself to the quiet kitchen to make Rice Krispies treats for the barbecue. They’d been her own Fourth of July tradition before she started hiding in her bedroom, one of the first dishes she’d learned how to make. She’d beamed with pride when she carried the plate of treats over to the O’Brians’ for the first time, basking in Brendan’s compliments and racing after Ian when he swiped half of them.
Of course, when she was a kid, she hadn’t been rolling out of bed at the crack of dawn to make dessert. But today her body hummed, her crotch throbbed, and no way was she staying under the covers. After she patted the Rice Krispies treats into the pan, she had time to gulp a pot of coffee, shower off the sweat, and dab makeup over the hickeys on her neck before any sound came from her parents’ room.
Wet hair clinging to her cheeks, she stared at the steamed-up mirror and cupped her breast to see the rosy mark Ian had left on the underside. He’d sucked like he was starving. That raw hunger made her shudder in the warm bathroom.
Hours later, when she met up with her friends for a picnic lunch in a park, she fought to focus on the conversation.
The picnic had been her idea. Wrapped up in Ian, she’d felt pangs of guilt. She was flat-out neglecting her friends, wasn’t she? Making excuses, lying about what she was up to. They were used to her blowing them off to study, and they paid her back with teasing. But school was out. Over. Done.
Her thighs still felt the push of Ian’s hands. Her pussy still felt the lashes of his tongue. Her body buzzed so loudly with the force of their fucking, everyone at the picnic table had to feel it too. And every single hot thought racing through her head was about losing control. To Ian, to — oh God — Ian and Brendan together, even to total strangers that crazy night at the club, pulling her clothes off eagerly.
Love. She was definitely in love. No question about it. When she’d daydreamed about love before the boys next door made her an offer, she’d figured it would be glorious. Someday, she and some nameless, faceless guy would hold hands and skip in the sunshine and browse through bookstores and have plenty of hot sex.
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