by Christa Wick
"Score," he laughed playfully upon seeing light flash off the front closure of her bra.
Hands on Melanie's shoulders, he eased her onto her back once more then partly draped his big body over hers, his thick, muscular thighs wedged between her legs, the position doing nothing to calm the dancing of her hips.
Quite the opposite. Her mound pressed upward against his solid mass, her whole body wiggling with need. Her eyelids were already heavy but tugging upward. She would have to fight not to come before he even had his cock out.
"It's okay to go wild, Mel." He pinched the closure of her bra open then smoothed his hand underneath the fabric to palm her breast. "I want you to be wild with me."
With him, yes, she wanted that, too, wanted to feel him slamming against her, inside her, the fat shaft she'd seen hints of stretching and filling her far beyond the point where her mind splintered.
Reaching between them, she cupped his cock as she pushed her breasts upward with a silent demand. Groaning, a quiver running through him, Declan lowered his mouth to the front panel of her bra and the pouting nipple hiding beneath the fabric.
Squeezing her other breast, he chewed at the nipple, his saliva turning the material dark as light flashed on the screens. She gripped his cock, squeezing when he squeezed. Her moans came faster, stumbling one into the other, tangling together.
"Declan," she rasped as she fought against the orgasm already claiming her body.
The few lovers she'd had in her life could struggle for an hour and not have her this feverish. Even her own touch had to work long and hard to bring her to a few seconds of abandon. Declan had her ready to explode and he hadn't even touched her pussy.
Growling, he crowded her hand away from his cock, shifting his hips so she couldn't reach it. Rolling, he covered her, a knee on each side so that she was happily trapped between his legs. Next, he freed her arms and breasts from the thin caging of her bra, then slid his knees down even with hers.
One arm holding his weight off her, he captured her breast with his free hand and brought his lips to the nipple, slowly sucking the tip and then the whole of the areola into his mouth as his hips began to dance, his cock rubbing at her through their layers of clothing.
More and more of her juices spread, her pussy hot and lubricated. The needy knots twisting inside her left Melanie breathless. She worked her arms free and reached down again, her fingers forcing their way past the elastic band of his running pants and the boxers beneath to wrap eagerly around the long, fat cock stroking so relentlessly against her.
Declan jerked once then bit lightly at her nipple in warning.
"I see I'm going to have to put it out of reach for a while longer, baby girl."
She mewled, the sound a begging apology, but he did not retract the threat. Sliding down her body, he tugged her pants and underwear off.
"I can smell how ready you are," he groaned, his head hovering over her wet pussy. "Now let me taste."
Yes, yes, and hell yes.
Melanie writhed along the couch as his mouth sealed over her clit. He suckled, his head moving in slow circles that massaged her labia while his tongue worked the electric spine of her sex.
She lost herself in the sweet erotic nuzzling of his mouth against her flesh. Her fingers itched with the burning need to wrap around his skull and force him closer. Fighting the urge, her hands settled on her heavy breasts, squeezing them and twisting the nipples until they were as swollen and aching as her pussy.
"Please," she feverishly whispered, marveling at how he expertly held her at the edge of slamming through the last wall of her release. "Please, Declan."
Reaching down, she pressed her palms against his head, her hips lifting her mound upward as a strangled cry of need clawed and echoed in her throat.
He shook free, his mouth pulling away from her throbbing clit as he hooked three fingers just inside the gate of her pussy. With his grip on Melanie's sex keeping her locked in an upward thrust, Declan positioned himself over her, his mouth coming down hard on hers.
His tongue fucked its way slow and sweet into her mouth as his fingers ventured thick and deep inside her. Lips and hand were relentless. He put his entire body into driving her wild, his hips pushing rhythmically to aid his arm, the thrusting, twisting fingers leveraging the momentum of his rocking.
Melanie moaned into his mouth, her ears assaulted by her own sounds, the slick juices of her pussy, the squelching from how tight and wet she was, the slap of flesh as his body moved against hers. That last sound made her desperate and crying for his cock in her. She wanted to hear the sound of his balls hitting against her as he fucked hard and deep into her pussy.
The non-stop quiver that had vibrated through her built to a roar, her body whipping erratically. Her mouth became dangerous and Declan abandoned it, his lips and teeth grazing on her shoulder, the bite firm but gentle as his fingers plunged one last time and held.
Melanie rode the thick triangle, hips slamming upward at a reckless angle. Her neck arched, freeing the scream that kept her from breaking into a million pieces, then she went limp.
And started crying.
21
"Baby...Mel..." Panic crept into Declan's voice. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I shouldn't have let it go this far today...not after Strake."
She wanted to hold him, then realized he was already holding her, his hands brushing at her wet hair and the tears flooding her cheeks.
"No," she answered, the single syllable broken even as her emotions started to settle. "I just never felt like that."
"Oh."
The sound came out pleased and cocky and she knew that if she could force her eyes to focus and see past all the shadows in the barely lit room, she'd find a confident grin on his handsome face.
"Wait...you're not saying..."
And BOOM, cocky grin gone.
She laughed. "No, you didn't just punch my V-card."
But he sure as hell had shredded her O-card!
She laughed again then covered her face with one hand.
He pulled the hand away and feathered her cheeks with short, light kisses.
"Good, I want you to have someone to compare me against and know I blow every other guy out of the water with how good I make you feel."
Declan chuckled as he finished pressing another kiss to her face. "I swear your cheeks just got hotter."
He couldn't see that she’d blushed at his bold claim because it was true, but she had definitely felt her cheeks heating from his words.
"They might have," she agreed.
His mouth moved to her neck. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and it suddenly struck her that he was completely dressed except for the shoes he had left on the floor in her bedroom.
"Take this off," she urged, plucking at the tight compression shirt.
"I will upstairs," he said, the grin back in his voice as he dodged her hands to slide down the couch. He gathered the clothes he’d stripped from her as he went and the shoes she had kicked off before climbing onto the couch, then stood with everything cradled in his arms. "Come on baby girl, there's more I want to do with you—a lot more."
Clutching one of the throws to her chest, she moved to the end of the couch. Wrapping her hand around his wrist, she tugged. "What's wrong with here?"
She didn't want to leave the darkness or the magic that continued to unfold on the screen. Even if the room was a shrine to the wizardry that was Hollywood, she felt like she was in a safe cocoon where the real Hollywood couldn't get in, couldn't judge her so that she felt inadequate in his arms, moving beneath him, offering up her unconditional pleasure to his greedy tongue.
Freeing his hand from her hold, he wrapped it around the back of her head and held her for a slow kiss full of tongues and teeth and swollen lips before he pulled away.
"No condoms down here, Mel," he explained. "Believe me, I want to move fast with you after the long wait, but not that fast."
The long wait?
He
r lips pressed together, mashing and rolling. She needed him to not say things like that—things that suggested his interest had started before Colorado and finding out that Roger had married her mother.
He bent down with a light growl and claimed another kiss.
"Baby, whatever thoughts are bouncing around inside that beautiful head of yours, I promise the things I'm about to do to your luscious body will get them to shut up."
"Yeah?" The growl had sent a delicious cascade of shivers down Melanie's back, their sensations strong enough to chew at the edges of her doubt. "You saying you keep a big ole can of shut the fuck up in your bedroom?"
"No," he shot back with a laugh. Finding her hand, he pressed it against his rock hard cock. "I carry the can wherever I go."
Holy Habanero, did he ever!
Okay, Melanie. Stop thinking and get back to screwing this gorgeous man!
Keeping the throw wrapped around her, she climbed off the couch and followed after him as he led the way to his bedroom.
Declan paused at least half a dozen times to look back, as if he was making sure she hadn't changed her mind and run off in a different direction. Each time he looked, her cheeks warmed and her eyes instantly went elsewhere except for once, when she saw him crowd the bundle of her clothes and shoes into one arm and stroke that spot on his nose, his cheeks turning as hot as her own felt when he caught her watching him.
"Our destination," he said, reaching the double doors and pushing one open.
He called out for lights and the room was instantly illuminated.
Trusting Melanie not to hang back this time, Declan took her clothes over to his dresser and folded them into a neat stack atop its surface then placed the shoes on the floor.
She took a few steps forward until she was just beyond the threshold. The walls were a stark white. Dark wood flooring and furniture provided a sharp contrast. But all the white made the room incredibly bright, not like the cocoon of the screening room.
"Soon, you won't be thinking about anything," Declan promised as he walked over to one of the bed's two nightstands and picked up a remote control. "So try relaxing a bit, baby girl."
A few presses on a button and the lights dimmed to a more intimate level. Another button was pressed and the curtains blotted out the night. Even though she knew the tinted windows kept the outside world from looking in, his closing the curtains made it feel more private to her.
"The ultimate bachelor's room," she teased as a few more strokes at the device played what sounded like whales singing to one another deep under the ocean.
"More like a lazy man's bedroom."
"Except you're not lazy," she said as he walked towards her, his gaze fixed on where she clutched the edges of the fur throw to keep it from falling off.
"Neither are you, Miss Sunrise to Sunset." His fingers wrapped around the edges of the throw, but he didn't force it open, just used it to tug her closer. "Heck, you were always on set before sunrise and long after sunset."
"Well, that's wardrobe for you," she tried to joke, the words coming out in little spurts as she fought to keep oxygen coming into her lungs.
She couldn't believe she was in his bedroom, that they had done what they had done and that there was more he planned on doing to her.
"I think we should drop wardrobe for a while," he teased, tugging at the throw again as his mouth nuzzled her throat.
Keeping one hand firmly gripping the two corners of the throw, she pushed at his chest with her other hand.
"Says the man who's still got everything but his running shoes on."
Chuckling, he pulled away and peeled the compression shirt off like a banana sliding out of its skin. Reaching down, he stripped off his socks with a quick one-two lift of his legs.
The pants came off more slowly, the lack of speed clearly deliberate. Shoving his fingers under the waistband at each hip, Declan pushed the fabric an inch downward, then pulled it half an inch upward, the progress so tantalizingly slow Melanie almost lost her grip on her own covering.
The head of his cock came into view, every bit as thick as the outline had promised. Her chest and pussy constricted at the same time as she wondered how she was going to take him in, especially the first time.
Please let there be lube, she prayed to whichever saint was responsible for handling carnal requests. St. Peter, no doubt.
She giggled at the thought.
"Excuse me," Declan growled playfully and hid his beautiful cock as punishment for her short, staccato burst of laughter.
Blushing madly and wanting the show to continue, she confessed her thoughts. "I was praying to St. Peter there would be lube in with the condoms."
His laughter joined Melanie's and the teasing stopped with a quick slide of his hands that pushed the pants down to his knees. Gravity took over and he stepped out of the fabric and kicked it aside.
"Take a seat, Mel," he ordered and pointed at the end of the bed.
She sat down, the throw still around her.
"Care to touch?" he asked, standing about a foot in front of her, legs spread and feet planted on the sheepskin rug that ran under and around the king size bed.
Wanting to do far more than touch, Melanie licked her lips.
Damn it was a beautiful cock—scary, too, with its big size. But she loved the look of its texture, the skin prominently veined in his aroused state. The color was a healthy pale red that darkened as it reached the head.
To touch it, though, she'd have to release her iron grip on the throw. And the same light that let her drink in the texture of his cock would reveal all her textures to Declan once she abandoned the throw.
He said nothing, but a ripple of muscle played along his stomach to push the fat crown toward her.
Fuck, just go with it! Stop thinking and start doing—start doing him.
Eyes fluttering shut with need, she reached out and blindly wrapped both hands around the thick shaft. A groan left her as she noted the contrast between the hot flesh pulsing beneath her fingers and the cool, conditioned air circulating the room to pluck at her aching nipples.
Opening her eyes, she drew him to her and looked up with a long sweep of lashes. She inhaled, her senses luxuriating in the musky, masculine smell of his body. Sighing, she closed her eyes again and took her first lick.
Declan groaned. "I promise, that's not where I was leading you."
Good, she thought, taking another lick. He was packing too much meat for her small mouth. But that didn't mean she couldn't run her tongue up and down its length, or cradle his heavy balls in the palm of her hand while she savored his taste.
Another groan and she felt the quiver that rolled through him before his hands captured the sides of her head.
"I want to be in you," he begged. "I want your legs wrapped around my hips. I want my hands filled with your ripe, heaving breasts, I want to torture those deliciously thick nipples like I promised to once I had you all soft and liquid beneath me."
A wistful smile pulled at her mouth as she remembered how she’d sharply twisted his nipple in the limo when she had been desperate not to come from his touch.
She didn't want to give in so easily. She looked up, batted her naturally long lashes. "Are you saying I can't suck and lick you?"
His face screwed around its center with a moment's agony, but he shook his head, denying her for the time being. "You can lick me later—when my cock's covered with your cream, baby girl. Now up the bed you go."
Sweet Heavens, he did not just say that!
Just thinking about it made her pussy gush fresh cream to slick her thighs and darken the silky, aquamarine bedspread beneath her.
Without protest, she crawled up the bed, not thinking about the sight she must be presenting to him, her overflowing curves rolling with each forward slide of her legs, her heavy breasts brushing against the bedding, the nipples swollen and tugged at by gravity until she rolled, shaking with need, onto her back.
"You're killing me, Mel." Declan cl
imbed onto the mattress, pushed her thighs apart then grabbed her ankles and forced her knees to bend until the back of each heel touched the back of each thigh and she was splayed open to him.
"My dick feels like it's going to fall off from the need to be buried in you, but the rest of me just wants to eat this sweet pussy all night long."
Melanie exhaled, slow and shaky. She wanted both—somehow at the same time.
Grinning, Declan settled his tight, fine ass on his heels and stared down.
"Don't get mad at me for this, okay?"
Looking at Declan's face, all Melanie saw was the look of a kid caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar, his mouth overflowing with the cookies he had already stuffed inside.
"Mad at you for what?" she asked.
"Ever hear of Emma Coventry?"
Melanie shook her head, her mouth quirking at the mention of another woman while he was supposed to be making love to her.
"Maybe you've heard of Coventry Cocks?" he asked.
Melanie's mouth dropped open. Coventry Cocks she had heard of but had always thought it was a joke—that there really couldn't be at least a couple dozen Hollywood hunks and studio execs going around with perfect replicas of their genitals.
Surely that was just a rumor.
"I'll take that as a yes." Sliding off the bed, his real cock leading the way, Declan disappeared behind another set of double doors. "I swear, this never left the box before today. I had it made after Alpine when the Grim Reaper wouldn't stop stalking me."
Hearing him call Carla Ledder by her industry nickname, Melanie chuckled from the bed. The injection of humor, however, didn't stop her from reaching at the same time for the fur throw to hide beneath in case she had to run back to her bedroom and bar the door.
Because—seriously—was he really saying he had a replica of his junk?
"It was supposed to be a 'fuck off' prank but..."
"She flew to Vegas and married Tobie Gibson."
"Exactly," Declan said, emerging from what Melanie guessed was the closet with a black box.