by Susan Arden
His fingertips grazed her thigh, and proceeded to tug at her dress, roughly raising the material. The cool night air tickled the skin underneath her dress. Anybody might happen by on the sidewalk and they’d be visible.
She moaned, holding onto his strong arms, tilting her head to the side. The glowing lights of his car were close, as well. His driver could be watching them. His fingers were at the elastic of her panties, and still she’d not said boo. The rippling sensation of pleasure his fingers sparked made it impossible to think. A few more inches and she’d be at his mercy, completely visible to the rest of the world, God included.
She did the unthinkable and pushed her hips against him, wanting to grind herself against his hardness.
“This is what you need. Isn’t it? That sassy mouth of yours, and your hot, tight body. When was the last time you were properly fucked? And I don’t mean at the end of a date with the boy down the street from your parents’ house.”
“That’s big talk for a man who has me up against a wall.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Ms. St. James. That snappy little mouth of yours. I bet those lips get you into all sorts of trouble. Every day of your troublesome life. This is what we can do to resolve that issue of yours.” His mouth crashed down upon hers. His lips were firm and demanding, out to show her that he commanded the world she occupied.
The feel of his tongue separating her lips had her melting. Lansing thrust his tongue into her mouth over and over. Never would she have imagined how much she could adore the feel of one man’s domination over her body. She pulled his hair, wanting more of him. The power of having his hair in between her fingers made her reckless.
Alana pressed her swollen pussy up and down his leg, riding him hard. His fingers pressed the space over her panties, rubbing her clit while he was fucking her mouth, owning her lips and tongue. She needed him deep inside her.
He slowed his assault to nip her bottom lip, and then methodically began to suck and kiss and devour her, one thrust of his tongue at a time. His hand held her face in place and she kissed him back, meeting him stroke for delicious stroke, praying that he’d make the next move.
When she felt her lungs burn, scorching hot, and her clit throbbed, a tight bud ready to burst, he broke the kiss. Staring down into her face, he smiled with a wild light in his eyes. They both were panting. Long, serrated gasps for oxygen.
Catching her breath, she asked, “Had enough?” Did those two words just come from her mouth?
“We’re only getting started. I want you to ride my cock until you learn to speak without a mouthful of sarcasm. I don’t care if it takes all night, Ms. St. James.” Lansing masterfully angled his mouth over hers, demonstrating the very essence of how to kiss and control her. Her fingers dug into the steel bands of muscle that formed his six-pack abs, painfully aware that she was about to call it a night on possessing any self-control.
He pulled away from her. “We can’t finish this here,” he whispered. “My house is only a few miles away. Or would you rather a hotel? I have a room downtown, a few blocks from here.”
“Hotel. It would be better.” She couldn’t imagine Christy calling her and asking her location. She couldn’t imagine saying that she’d spent the night in Lansing’s house. That would be awkward, and to break that many rules in one night bordered on surreal. Even for her.
He pulled her off the wall, firmly pressing a single kiss to her lips. Such a sweet kiss, that lingered on her mouth—a mark of his steely callousness. No one could kiss like that and hold a contract over her head. He had to be the devil incarnate and she was throwing herself down a rabbit’s hole, believing it would turn out differently this time.
He steered her from the wall and the rest of the way down the alley, holding her firmly around the waist; he surprised her by kissing the side of her head as they walked. A swarm of confused butterflies took flight in her stomach. She moved as though without volition, walking alongside him, taking in his reflection from the car as he stood in back of her.
“Let me get that,” he said, reaching for the door.
The back seat was roomy, and she slid over the cool leather, letting Lansing help her inside. His large hands curved around her arm and she studied his strong fingers. A comparison jolted her--fingers, feet, and other male appendages--and her gaze darted to his groin, giving her room to speculate about those analogies holding true.
She jumped at the quick slam of the car door. Their reflections faced them in the glass partition that separated them from the driver. Lansing’s dark glass likeness bore an inverse resemblance to him and she wondered if, in another world, a kind version of him existed. One who didn’t see her as a commodity to be bought and sold.
Once seated, Lansing pressed a button and spoke. “To the Hermitage,” he said, threading his manicured fingers through his hair. Their gazes met in the glass and he watched her intently for several silent seconds. “Have you ever been fucked in the back of a moving vehicle?”
“I don’t kiss and tell,” she said, speaking to his reflection, just as he’d done to hers.
“Glad to know. I hold to that rule as well.” His hand moved from her arm, back to her thigh, and he lifted her dress. Pulling her roughly along the seat, he turned her body and separated her legs, lifting her ankle, and arranging her calf around his hip.
Obviously, this was not the first time he’d done this. She reminded herself this was only hot sex. His experiences and future were not her concern. The ache between her legs was too heavy for her to consider the details of her life or his. All she could think about was his ability to deliver her from this delicious torture. All night they’d been forced into this tug of war, and now it was coming to a head. In more ways than one.
His breathing grew as rapid and as shallow as hers. “What about your driver?” she whispered.
He moved over, pushing her shoulder backward. “Lie down, and if you want to scream, the driver can’t hear a thing. I love a woman who isn’t afraid of letting go. In every sense of the word.”
“Why does this feel like an audition?”
“It isn’t. More like a crescendo for what’s been building between us all night.”
His fingers circled her pierced belly button slowly, methodically, and then swept over her mound, sliding down and stroking her through her panties, making her tremble. “I’ve thought about touching you all night,” he said.
She flexed her hips, refusing to let the sounds spill from her mouth, even though the warmth from his hands spread over her thighs had her body tingling. An inferno raged along the course of his fingers running down and between her legs. Alana pressed her hands over his fingers and watched his expression. He consumed her with his eyes and she moaned. “Please, Lansing.”
He pushed her dress over her waist, his gaze flickering from her body up to her face, each second appearing more unguarded. “You’re a beautiful woman, with a body meant to be explored.”
His voice rocked inside her. Oh, God, this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. She imagined he’d had plenty of women he called beautiful.
His gaze locked onto hers, his fingertips skimmed along the edge of her panties, and she writhed under his hands. His strong, sure fingers moving expertly over her skin made her feel powerfully sexy and alluring in the way he stroked and attended her body. This push and pull he created was maddening to the point of intoxication. A type of drug and, if she wasn’t careful, she’d want more and more of it.
Vacillating, she longed to give in to him entirely, and in the next second she wanted to bite and scratch him. Get far, far away from J.P. Lansing and his sinful good looks.
That was until she felt him lift the edge of her panties, and then his fingers ran across her slick folds. She jerked against his fingers and bit her lip, unable to let herself go as he’d said he preferred.
He lifted his fingers from her. “Don’t hold back from me.”
She shook her head, praying that he’d touch her agai
n. Her clit pulsed in a hard rhythm, the clenching and release of her muscles spasming until she thought she might cry out. What was going on with her body?
“Tell me what you want. Only then will I give it to you,” he murmured.
“I want you inside me. Touch me.” In one breath, he pushed his finger all the way into her, thrusting forcefully and going farther, while she arched backward.
“Yes. That’s it.” Alana moaned loudly, the sound bursting from her. She started to curl her legs around his waist but he pushed her thighs down, making her open up fully to him.
“Do you want me to fuck you with my finger or my cock?”
“Both,” she said, unable to choose.
He chuckled. “I can do that, but I don’t think that’s what you’re talking about. Is it? Perhaps, in time.”
She realized he was talking about taking her from behind and the front simultaneously, and her pussy throbbed at the image of them naked and wildly fucking. With a few words he’d made her desire skyrocket. She rubbed her slick folds against his hand as his finger moved in and out of her. His rapid strokes had her coming undone. Her orgasm wasn’t far off. Closer still, when his finger found her sensitive, secret spot. She whispered, “More. Just like that.”
“You’re going to come already? Jesus, you’re so sensitive. Not yet, Alana. I want to fuck you with my dick the first time you come for me.”
He unzipped his fly and reached down underneath the seat, pulling out a condom. He pushed up onto his knees and lowered his pants, releasing his cock. She inhaled the scent of his cologne that permeated the area, and her eyes feasted on his groin. He was groomed, his pubic hair clipped close to his skin. The crown of his cock glistened and he gripped himself. His large hand matched his thick circumference, and she watched him tear open the foil packet, sheathing himself in latex. Lansing lowered himself over her body, palming the seat at her shoulder as his other hand held his cock out in front of him.
“Wrap your legs around my hips,” he said; his gravelly voice filled the backseat and made her breath catch. Or maybe it was his cock that grazed across her folds, stopping at her opening. His groan sounded sensually alluring, and she shuddered. He pressed his crown against her, letting go of his cock as he tugged her thigh upward at the same time he thrust forward, hard and deep into her body. A burst of pleasure shot in all directions across her body and she clenched around him.
“Oh, Jesus. You’re tight and wet. Fuck, I knew it would be like this with you.” He rocked his hips backward and then came at her again, angling his cock and plunging deeper inside.
Lansing kept driving himself into her body. His ability to slam into her grew stronger, and his tempo increased. He ground his hips against her, commanding her to give in to him. Beads of perspiration formed on his brow and she could feel her own heat building, growing uncontrollable, and she had to leap or she’d shatter. “I’m there. So there,” she said.
“Baby, ask me. Ask my permission to come.”
She’d do whatever he demanded. As long as he continued pounding into her. Just get her there. “Please. Please, Lansing. Let me come.”
His hand fisted her hair and he tugged. “I want you to come all over my cock and tell me what it feels like.” He pulled her hair again. Pain mixed with the bliss of his demanding strokes. His mouth came down upon hers and she pushed against him. He moved powerfully into her body with each thrust, pulling her hair, and consuming her mouth. Not one part of her body was without him. The erotic heat searing into her scalp made her orgasm ramp up and stunned her world. She yelled his name. “Lansing!”
“That’s it, Alana! Again! What’s this like for you? Tell me with that dirty mouth of yours, like I’ve wanted to hear it all night.”
“Amazing. Your cock is so hard and hot. Fuck me with it,” she spoke the words she thought, but had never shared aloud.
“Baby, I’m going to fuck you so hard, we’ll both hurt tomorrow.”
Sex with him pushed her boundaries. Glittery and edgy. She dug her nails into his back and scratched down his spine, softly whimpering. He bit down on her bottom lip and sucked the middle into his mouth.
His body shuddered, and he tensed his muscles. He slammed back into her, grinding his hips against hers. Lansing kept thrusting into her, demanding her body’s response. A golden glow emanated from her core, releasing coils of bliss.
“Lansing…” she moaned.
He shuddered, a spasm working up from his legs to his shoulders, absolute raw power coursing through his body and into hers. “Damn, you’re quite a vixen.” he said, and then kissed the side of her neck. “I could easily let you convince me why it’s spot-on that I’ve just tossed aside my business principles. Not to mention the rules.”
“Oh, please. Are you going to tell me you’ve never slept with any of your clients?”
He lifted her dress further up her body and cupped her breast. “Actually, I haven’t. Not before tonight. That’s asking for trouble. Then I look at you, and that’s all I see. I believe, this way, we can get to work instead of wanting to fuck each other’s brains out.”
“Convenient.” She stretched out her hand, touching his face. He looked like a boyish version of the man seated in front of her all night. Her chest constricted and she pulled away.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Do you always rationalize the reasons for breaking rules? That seems like a tremendous waste of time.”
“The excuses, or the breaking of rules? Or is there something less flippant that you’d like to know?” Her breast was now in his hand and he pinched her nipple, teasing the tip with his thumb while his cock was still hard inside her.
Lansing’s eyes were half-lidded and magical, beguiling her to stop asking inane questions. They were conversing as though they’d met for coffee, not just enjoyed a hot fuck and were about to start up again.
She clenched her pussy around him and relished his gasp and the closing of his eyes. Power. That’s what the problem was here. He had more than she. “How much longer until we get to the hotel?”
“Not long.” He pushed up from her chest by straightening his arms. The sinewy cords of muscle in his neck tensed as he held that position directly above her, yet still maintained their hip-to-hip connection. “A few blocks. We leave the highway, and then it’s about a mile down.”
The lights of the street alternated with shadows as they exited the highway, playing a game of hide-and-seek with his facial features as he stared down at her.
“God, I don’t want this to end. I could fuck you until sunrise, and then some.” His back arched, and his dick slid out of her. Sitting back on the seat, he brought her leg out from behind his hips, holding onto her booted calf for a beat. His cock was still erect and tapped against her leg as it crossed over his lap. The shiny condom tightly encased the thick girth of his shaft, wet with her juices. She peered upward at the neon lights from famous bars that glowed in the reflection of the privacy panel. “How on earth do you dance in these things?” he asked.
She laughed at the amazement in his voice. “Not by making excuses, I can tell you that.”
“You never answered my question. The last two. Is evasion part of your charm?”
“Let me evade while you rearrange your business diktats, and we should get along fabulously.”
“Really. Is that how you want this to go down?”
“You’re the one that said you needed to fuck me in order to work with me. I didn’t make that up.” Alana sat forward, pulling down her dress. She ignored him watching her as she tied her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck and untangled an earring that had gotten caught in her hair.
“That’s not exactly what I said.” He waved a white handkerchief in what might have been jest, and then shook his head. He removed the used condom and wrapped it inside the cloth before depositing it in the trash bin.
Alana bit her lip, unable to turn away when he pushed his hardened cock back into his pants, adjusted himself, and
zipped his fly. She murmured, “Close enough.”
He turned to face her. “Damn. Are we back to square one? I thought this would ease the tension between us. Not rekindle the fires of Dante’s Inferno.”
“I’m so sorry your business proposal has gone awry. Not everything works out as planned.”
They pulled up in to the front of the Hermitage and he grimaced. The valet approached the car and the driver lowered his window, extending his hand for the ticket.
She gathered her purse, arranging the straps over her shoulder. “So, how do I go about getting my room?”
“It’s a suite. Are you saying you’d prefer to go up alone?”
“I think so. I’m tired. And this has been fascinating, getting to know you, Mr. Lansing.”
“Likewise,” he said, staring over at her. He tunneled his perfect fingers through hair that was another version of Lansing. A wild flavor. His just-fucked hair, she surmised, and man, if it didn’t look fantastic on him.
Why was she doing this? Clearly he wanted to fuck her again, and the lower half of her body was screeching to shut up and let him.
She spied the condom wrapper on the floor of the car. This wasn’t going to end well. No matter if he came up to the room or not. His rules were bendable, and so twisty only an idiot would think it safe to jump back into this out-of-control passion pit.
Lansing had a rule, she’d venture, one he rarely broke: his way. And she wasn’t about to have some high-powered record label CEO tie knots into her already fragile life. If Mark had done a ton of damage as some crummy DJ, what could a man like Lansing do if his plans were frustrated?
“What name is the suite under?” she asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.
“I’m not that much of a bastard, to boot you out onto the curb.”
She hugged her purse closer and fought not to ask how much of a bastard was he, then? “I don’t have an issue with being dropped at the front of the hotel.” Better than risk him going up to the suite.