by Anne Rainey
He moved out from between her legs, drawing a frown from her. But he wanted to give her more than a few moments of passion. He wanted to give her a part of himself. By the time he was finished, Catherine would have had more of him than he’d ever given any other woman. What she did with it would be up to her.
Dean fished around in the bag and brought out a bottle of wine. He inspected the label. It was a merlot, a good year. He used the bottle opener and uncorked it, then held the cork beneath her nose.
“What is that?” she asked as she inhaled.
“You tell me. What’s it smell like?”
She sniffed again, then smiled. “Wine?” She paused, then added, “Uh, I’m not really a wine expert, Dean.”
Unaccountably charmed by her, Dean leaned down and kissed her, the satiny softness of her lips fueling his already raging hard-on. “Experts aren’t required for this game.”
“If you say so,” Catherine murmured, clearly unconvinced. Dean held the cork under her nose once more and allowed her time to take in the rich, seductive fragrance.
This time she took a deeper inhale. “Oak,” she replied. “Maybe a hint of . . . cherry?”
Dean touched her thigh and felt her jump. The blindfold made every soft stroke more pronounced for her. “Very good girl,” he whispered as he put the cork aside. He picked up the bottle and took out a glass he’d brought along, then poured a small amount. Dean put the glass to her lips and said, “Here, take a sip and tell me what you taste.”
He watched her drink a small amount, then her tongue darted out and she licked her lips. Dean was having a hell of a time concentrating with Catherine sitting in front of him, her plump tits bare and her pussy inches away from his hand.
“It’s good,” she said, “and there’s a hint of spice, I guess.” She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip again, and Dean groaned. “Hmm, I can’t quite put my finger on what else. Something fruity, maybe?”
“Ah, you do know wine,” he murmured as he moved his hand higher up her thigh. “I don’t drink much, but over the years I’ve developed a fondness for good wine.” As he reached her sweet pussy, he flicked his thumb back and forth over the little nub he found there.
She threw her head back and moaned. “Dean, please, I need more. I need you.”
Her voice had gone hoarse, and Dean was tempted to forget the game. He dipped his finger into the glass of wine and said, “Soon, I promise. First, open your mouth for me.”
She hesitated only a few seconds this time. Dean slid his wine-soaked finger into her mouth and asked, “What’s the fruit you taste?”
She closed her lips around his finger and licked it clean. The seductive sight had Dean’s cock thickening. She pulled her mouth off him and shook her head. “I-I don’t know.” She swirled her tongue over her bottom lip, then said, “Blackberry maybe?”
Catherine’s voice was a thready bit of sound in the quiet room, driving every one of his senses wild with need. He put the glass on the end table and plunged his wet finger into her slick, hot pussy. She moaned, and he covered her mouth with his, hungry for her taste. “Mmm,” he whispered against her lips, “my two favorite things.”
“W-what’s that?” she replied as her hips began moving, arching into his hand as he fingered her.
“Your pussy and a good bottle of merlot,” he answered. “Fucking delicious.” Dean continued sliding a single finger in and out of her opening, driving himself mad, as he was already so hard he hurt. He wanted to thrust deep, drive his cock into her honeyed heat where he knew paradise waited.
“Oh, God, Dean,” she moaned, “that feels so good. Please don’t stop.”
“I have no intention of stopping. You’re like a fine wine to me, Catherine. I want to sip and savor you. I want to take in your scent and enjoy the essence of your sweet femininity. I want you, sweetheart, and I seriously doubt that will change anytime soon.”
“Then quit stalling and take me, Dean.”
Dean gave her what she craved. He slipped his finger out and spread her juices over her puffy pussy lips. “This is the spicy taste I want on my tongue,” he growled. “No wine could ever compare to your luscious flavor.” He licked her, slowly drifting his tongue over her distended clit. When her body bowed, Dean spread her legs wider, tasting her deeper. He cupped the ample softness of her breasts. She fit his mouth, his hands. Catherine was made for him, and he devoured her.
He licked and sucked, luxuriating in her gasps and moans. Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer. He toyed with her little bud, nibbling on it the way he knew she liked, before teasing her nipples into hard points. He gave equal attention to her beautiful tits and wet pussy. Dean’s cock dripped with precome as he played.
“Do you know that you drive me to the very brink of insanity?” he admitted. “I swear to God, I’m addicted to you. So quickly you’ve become a drug to me, Catherine.”
Her hands tightened in his hair. “Then put your cock inside my pussy, Dean,” she demanded. “Right now, because surely you’re in need of a fix.”
Dean lifted his head and stared at Catherine’s widespread thighs. She sat, blinded by the black cotton cloth, her sex dripping wet, breasts glistening from the suckle of his mouth. He wondered if she realized how open she was to him in that moment. Covering her eyes had unlocked a door for Catherine, and she’d unknowingly dropped the last of her inhibitions.
“You are incredibly sexy like this,” he told her, his voice rough with emotion and passion both. “I could stare at you all night and I wouldn’t get bored.”
“Don’t even think it, Dean.” She reached between his legs, obviously searching for his cock. It took her several tries before she had it grasped in her tight fist. She squeezed, hard, drawing a growl from him. “I have the perfect spot for this. Don’t force me to tie you down and do it myself.”
Dean smiled at the thought. “I don’t think I’d mind being at your mercy.” Before she could make any more demands, he wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her to the very edge of the bed. He knew she couldn’t see what he was doing and she would assume he was following her orders. But he’d always hated being predictable.
Instead, Dean picked up the glass one more time and dribbled a tiny amount of wine over her swollen vulva.
She yelped. “Damn it, Dean, that’s cold!”
He grinned. “Not for long, sweetheart,” he growled as he dipped his head between her legs and lapped up the ruby liquid. She went pliant when his tongue and lips moved over her.
“Mmm, your spicy little pussy tastes so good with the wine. Adds just the right touch, if you ask me,” he murmured against her dewy center.
He slowly trickled another few drops of liquid, this time onto her delightful berry nipples. She sucked in a breath and Dean watched as the tips turned to hard little peaks. He put the glass down and wrapped his mouth around one full breast, licking and suckling, before moving to the other to do the same. Her ragged groan went right to his bloodstream. She arched into him, clutching at the blankets for support.
“Would you like to taste my wine, sweetheart?”
She hesitated a moment, then a smile appeared as she nodded. His libido went into overdrive.
Dean stood, then took hold of her waist and pulled her off the bed. He placed her on her feet. She wobbled a little, but he steadied her. He took the bottle and poured a small amount onto the head of his cock and had to suck in a breath it was so cold.
“Get down on your knees,” he instructed. “I’ll guide you.”
She gripped on to his hand and went to her knees. Once her mouth was a breath away from the head of his dick, Dean took hold of her hair and stopped her. “Far enough, now, open wide so you can take all of me.” Again, her breathing quickened, but she silently obeyed.
Dean took his cock in a firm fist and brought the dripping tip to her waiting mouth. She tasted it with her tongue first, then took him all the way in, nearly bringing him to his knees.
“Christ, ye
ah, suck it,” he gritted out as she lapped up all the flavored drink. Dean’s vision blurred when she dipped her head and nuzzled his balls. A few swipes of her tongue on the sensitive underside of his cock and Dean was forced to stop her. He cupped her chin in his palm. “No more or I’ll fill that hot mouth, sweets.”
She sat back and smiled. “I like the taste of wine much better this way, I have to admit.”
He chuckled. “Have I turned you into an alcoholic?”
She licked her lips and shrugged. “To tell the truth, the wine was sort of in the way of the flavor I really wanted.”
Dean shook his head. “Little tease.” He lifted her up and placed her back on the bed. Dean forgot about the wine when he watched her spread her legs, inviting him in. He bent his head and kissed her swollen pussy, then proceeded to lick and nibble until suddenly she was screaming out another climax. When she collapsed, all her muscles going slack, Dean took a moment to look at her. Her wet pussy and reddened tits were on display for him. She was a wicked temptation.
“Catherine.” Her name was all he could muster. She didn’t speak, merely opened her arms and waited. Dean moved on top of her, then thrust into her with a quick kind of force that had them both gasping for air.
He stayed still inside of her for a moment, enjoying the satiny clutch and the scorching heat that warmed him inside and out. Dean slowly pumped her tight channel, his movements growing faster and more furious as need swept through him, pushing all rational thought to the back of his mind. He ached for her. Only Catherine. She was a fire in his blood, and he had a primal need to bind her to him in some way.
Catherine lifted her hips, driving upward and forcing him deeper still. She came at him with her own brand of passion, her fingernails dug into his back as if marking her territory. He reached a hand between their bodies and touched off the beginning of a third orgasm for her. She screamed and wrapped her long legs tightly around his waist, squeezing, sending him over the edge. She shouted, and Dean pushed in and out several more times before he erupted, filling her with his hot come. Her inner muscles sucked onto his cock and milked him dry.
Mere seconds passed before Dean pulled out of her. With his body pressing hers into the mattress, Dean took a moment, transfixed at the sight of her sated body. She was still trembling from the orgasms he’d coaxed from her. A pleasant smile lit her face, and Dean wondered how he was every going to let her walk away from him when her visit with Gracie ended.
It hit him then, like a truckload of lumber. “Fuck, I can’t believe I forgot.”
She lifted her head and cocked her head to the side. “Huh?”
He got to his feet and raked his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t wear a condom.”
Catherine bit her lower lip and frowned. “I’m on the pill. And I received a clean bill of health the last time I went to the doctor.”
“Same here.”
One side of her mouth kicked up into a playful grin. “You’re on the pill too?”
He reached down and plucked the blindfold off. “Smart-ass,” he whispered, before kissing the temptation of her mouth. When he lifted it she was staring at him, her eyes half-closed. Her hair was a wreck and she had blotchy red marks all over her body, but Dean thought she looked more beautiful than ever.
“I’ve never experienced anything like that before, Dean,” she admitted in a quiet voice. “Never.”
Dean knelt down and, with one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back, he picked her up, cradling her close to his chest. “Me either,” he said as her arms snaked around his neck to hold him tight. The look of sheer pleasure on her face speared his heart. He started out of the room. “Time to wash, sweetheart, and I plan on taking my time cleaning every inch of you too.”
Catherine’s stomach grumbled, and she blushed. “Apparently I’m hungry.”
He kissed her nose. “I’ll spring for room service.”
“Sounds like a plan, but, Dean?”
“Yeah, sweets?”
“I’m going to want to wash you too. Every inch.”
For the first time that he could remember, Dean actually got a little weak.
18
The next morning, Catherine was floating on a cloud. She and Dean had shared something profound the night before, and it went beyond hot and heavy sex. She knew it. Could feel it. There was something about the way Dean had looked at her when he’d slowly drawn the blindfold off, as if she meant something to him. Did he see her as more than a good time? He’d been so tender and loving when he’d washed her afterward in the Jacuzzi-style tub. As if he cared. He hadn’t said anything to indicate he was becoming emotionally involved, but didn’t actions speak louder than words? Catherine wanted to think there was more to their relationship than mutual desire, chemistry, and sating each other’s needs.
In the past, Catherine had dated men who’d seen her as a comfortable companion. The wild, erotic stuff had only been something she’d read about in books. She’d never once experienced anything quite as intense as what she’d shared with Dean. And there’d definitely never been a deeper connection with any of the other men she’d dated. She wasn’t sure what to think, and she had absolutely nothing to compare it to, which was sad when she thought about it. Heck, every man she’d ever gone out with had been Mr. Reliable. No frills and for sure no surprises. Yet Dean made her feel alive and sexy and wicked. Even a little bit cherished.
She’d known him only a few days. Good Lord, what kind of woman fell for a man she barely knew outside the bedroom?
Could she be any more pathetic? She’d never believed in love at first sight. Until now.
When she thought of how many times she’d orgasmed, Catherine couldn’t seem to help the smile that beamed across her face. Seriously, what woman wouldn’t grin like a fool after a night like she and Dean had shared? Her orgasm meter had been dangerously in the red zone before meeting him.
At the moment, Catherine sat on the couch, dressed in Dean’s black tee and a pair of white cotton bikini panties. He’d woken her early with a kiss, which had quickly turned to more. He’d ordered breakfast and they’d talked. Now, as he talked on his cell a few feet away, Catherine couldn’t help but stare. The solid wall of his bare chest kept her spellbound. His jeans rode low on his hips and he was barefoot. He looked hot barefoot. He looked hot no matter what, Catherine admitted to herself.
When he ended the call and tossed the phone onto the desk, Catherine finally saw her chance to find out more about him. Maybe even spend the day together. “Who was that?”
“A guy who works for me,” he explained, frowning. “There’s a problem with some material that was supposed to arrive this morning. I’m afraid I need to go in and deal with it.”
Catherine’s hopes plummeted. There went her grand idea of spending the day with him. “Oh.” She looked at her computer, which was still sitting open on the coffee table from the night before. “I suppose I could check e-mail and get some things done. And I’m meeting Gracie later. She’s taking me to see the orchestra that’s performing in town.”
He crossed the room and took her face in his palms, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Or you could come with me. Want to see my office? I promise to have you back in time for the performance.”
Her heartbeat sped up at the thread he was tossing her way. A chance to see him outside the bedroom? Yeah, like she’d pass that up. “I’d love to! Just give me a minute to get dressed.” She jumped off the couch and was headed for the bedroom when his deep voice calling her name stopped her. She turned and quirked a brow. “Yeah?”
He grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m going to need my shirt.”
Feeling naughty, Catherine smiled and grasped the hem, then yanked it over her head. She tossed it at him, but it landed on the floor. Dean didn’t even try to catch it. He only stood there, staring at her, a dark look in his eyes. Unsure if she’d done something wrong, Catherine started out of the room. A pair of strong
hands stopped her.
“You’re the devil,” he whispered against her ear. “A delicious, red-haired devil.”
“Um, your shirt. It’s going to get all wrinkled,” she said, not that she cared with him pressed against her. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock nudging her butt cheeks, and her pussy reacted with a flow of damp heat.
“Later for that,” he mumbled. “First there’s this.” He cupped her pussy through her panties, and Catherine’s legs went as weak as wet noodles.
Oh, God, yes, she thought. “Will we be late?” she asked, as she felt his mouth against the pulse in her neck.
Dean froze, then cursed a few times. “Probably.”
Catherine gathered enough strength to pull out of his arms and turn around. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Hold that thought for later, then,” she said against his lips. “When we have more than a few minutes to spare.”
He closed his eyes tight and fisted his hands at his sides. “Go, woman, cover up that hot body before I forget I have employees waiting on me and I take you against the damn wall.”
Catherine’s blood heated at the guttural words. Without another teasing remark, she sped from the room.
Catherine was suitably impressed with Dean’s business. It was bigger than she’d imagined. He was quite successful. He’d shown her the lumberyard and she’d met his foreman, a kind man with gray hair and a strong workingman’s build. A few men had whistled at her, but when Dean glared at them they’d quickly gone back to work. Now he was seated at his desk going over a bid he’d worked up for an office building. She walked around the room and smiled when she spied a picture of his family. She picked it up and realized it must have been taken at a family get-together. He had his arm around Deanna, and she was smiling. Jonas stood to Deanna’s right. Wade and Gracie were on opposite sides of Mrs. Harrison. Not for the first time, Catherine wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up in a family like that. Love and laughter, sibling rivalry. Her parents had been wonderful, but they were old school. Homework and chores after school, then dinner and bedtime. If it’d hadn’t been for Mary’s friendship her life would’ve been horribly boring and lonely.