Just A Woman
By
Serena Akeroyd
Marina: Part Two
Naughty Nookie Series
The right of Gemma Mazurke to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author.
First Kindle Edition, January 2014
Copyright © Gemma Mazurke 2014
Cover design by Clarissa Yeo
www.yocladesigns.com
**DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, BDSM or otherwise, without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Gemma Mazurke will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in this book.**
Serena Akeroyd: Website
Facebook Page
@SerenaAkeroyd Twitter
#FallIntoLove
#CrazyLittleThingCalledLust
#AllThatGlitters
#CanBeGold
#ABitchInTime
#JustAWoman
#NaughtyNookie
Acknowledgments
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Coming Soon…
Other works by Serena Akeroyd…
Acknowledgments
To S and Snow from spankaway.tumblr.com, whose advice and GIFs of the best aftercare a sub can ever receive, inspired the much-needed, softer edge to Marina’s Sir.
Thanks : )
And if you’re going to click on to it (readers) then be warned. Nudity. Spanking tips, hints and the after-effects… Tumblr rocks. Ha!
Prologue
30th April 2013
The Grand Hotel, Chicago
As the cab pulls up outside the hotel, I don’t even bother to open the door. It’s strange waiting, but Nate always does it for me. He pays the fare, then jumps out and rounds the car to help me like a gentleman of old. With my hand in his, I smile up at him as I alight from the cab.
Dinner, a walk through Little Italy and a movie. Not the most thrilling of nights out but that’s the best part about being with Nate. Doing nothing is like doing something.
The car moves off into the traffic and leaves us on the sidewalk. When Nate doesn’t make to move toward the foyer, I frown at him. “Are we camping out here, tonight? I prefer our room. It has heating.”
He shakes his head. There’s a weird glitter in his eyes as he bends down and presses his lips to my ear, “I’ve got something for you, Marina.”
“You have? What?” I ask, a wide grin curling my lips. “Can you give it to me inside? Sorry to be a killjoy, but you’re wearing pants and I have a skirt on.”
“You’re damned right I can give it to you inside and the skirt is the reason I can.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just remember,” he whispers, bending down and brushing a kiss over my nose. “Be quiet.”
Wondering what the hell he’s talking about, he grabs me by the hand and before I can even utter a complaint, he’s pulling me through the entrance, so quickly I can’t even greet the door attendant, and tugging me through the lobby.
The Grand is just that. Grand. A pleasant mixture of old and new. Antique and modern. It’s why we always stay here for our little trysts.
The reception is sleek, all slate tiles and low slung, leather sofas. Yet there are Art Nouveau figurines decorating side tables or sculptures overtaking a huge floor space. Muted colors, dim lights, it all adds to a rather hushed air. At the back of the reception, there are four antique telephone boxes. I doubt anyone uses them, but they’re there and that’s where Nate is dragging me.
The receptionist stares at the strident path we’re cutting across the hall. One nod from Nate has him returning his attention to the paperwork in front of him.
I don’t even have time to complain about the rough grip he has on my wrist, before he opens the booth’s frosted glass door and pushes me inside. About two feet by two feet, there’s no room for a skinny woman and her excessively large purse, never mind a couple!
“Are we calling someone?” I ask pointedly, wondering what the hell we’re doing here. “Because if you’ve run out of credit on your cell phone, I have plenty.”
He ignores my sarcasm, too intent on squeezing us inside and shutting the door. There’s about five inches of play in the entire booth. It’s a good thing I don’t suffer from claustrophobia, because hell, this is cramped.
With the door shut, the temperature shoots up and silence hovers over the pair of us like a heavy blanket. I can’t turn around to glare at him as my back is glued to his front.
On the brink of making another complaint, his hand suddenly appears in front of me. He holds it over my mouth and the only thing to stop me from stomping on his foot is the fact he takes care to keep my nose free and clear.
Eyes wide, I stare straight ahead, not saying or doing anything, wondering where he’s going to go with this. How far he’s going to go.
“Remember,” he breathes into my ear. “Don’t make a sound.”
I nod and tease him by sticking out my tongue and trailing it along his palm. He chuckles, the sound low and intent but before I can feel smug, his prosthesis drops down to grab the hem of my skirt. One-handed, he drags it up and then, switching sides, he gives the other side the same treatment so my skirt is riding my upper thighs.
There’s no room to do anything in here, never mind fuck, which I’m assuming is his intention. I mumble against his hand, but he ignores me and refuses to budge his fingers. Before I can glare straight ahead, his fingers are between my legs, nudging my thong aside and sliding down to my sex. He strums my clit on the downward stroke and the move has me jerking on to tiptoe. Excitement vibrates through me. Where irritation had been, arousal now rests.
I shudder as he continues to rub and massage my clit, making juices flood my pussy and sending sharp hunger pangs for his cock, right through me.
I reach back, try to rub him through his pants, but he grabs my hand and pushes it against the wall, holding it there so I don’t move. So I can’t move. The sound of a zipper is loud in the silence broken only by his breaths, hard and laborious, I can tell he’s excited and that’s something that only increases my pleasure.
Nate leans forward and with our proximity, he urges me to bend over slightly. His foot slips between mine, nudging my legs wider apart until his shaft brushes the outer lips of my pussy and he’s working his way deep inside.
A whimper lodges in my throat as his thick cock forges a path through tight, clinging tissues. My eyes flutter to a close as my teeth take advantage of his hand by biting down on the soft fleshy pad of his palm. He grunts but doesn’t chide me, just keeps on moving until he’s all the way in.
A low cry escapes me. I can’t control it as my body reacts to the thickness of his penetration, and in this position, it’s doubly noticed. I’m stretched, full, drowning in his presence. But fuck, it feels good.
In my ear, he whispers, “Hold on.”
Unable to move, I just stand there, positioned like a marionette doll. His for the taking and the instant his hips star
t to rock and his cock forges its way in and out of my needy pussy; I lower my head as ecstasy shatters in my brain like fireworks on Independence Day.
Oh God, it feels good. So, so good.
My arousal has slurping sounds ricocheting around the booth and the noises are such a turn on, I can feel more juices welcoming him, drenching him. A shudder works through me as he bends further forward, but this time, I’ve nowhere to go but the wall. Pressing my face against it, the cool acetate is a sharp contrast to the heat in the booth. His hand is still there, forcing me to be silent. The slight change in angle means he can start to fuck me properly. A whine works its way free as he does just that. Deep, hard, fast.
The closeness of the booth enriches everything. Concentrating the minutest detail and amplifying it a thousand fold. So the slightest sound, the smell of sex, the tightness of our fit within the phone box is intense. The heat is uncomfortable, sweat is beading on my brow, drenching my torso, but I can focus only on the fire in my cunt, one he’s intent on extinguishing with a load of his cum.
Shuddering at the thought, I press my head into the hard wall in front of me. It hurts, but I need that slight pain. Each thrust has him dragging against already hard-used tissues. He’s fucked me so many times this weekend I don’t know where my pussy ends and his cock begins, but it’s still too good to be true.
A high-pitched moan escapes me, as he takes me down, dragging me to the edge of insanity as climax beckons but stays out of reach and then, he shoots me hard and fast to the stars as it explodes inside me; pleasure, release. Satisfaction.
The rough fuck has my every nerve tingling as he pummels into me, his hips pistoning deep and then he stops, and with a jerk of his lower body, cums. He grunts low, the sound guttural as he continues a faint rocking motion, milking every drop of pleasure from my body.
He stands there in silence for a few seconds, resting his head on my shoulder, leaving me in the uncomfortable position of being pressed against the wall. But I don’t mind. Any other guy, I’d have called them all kinds of names. With Nate, the quick and unexpected, yet molten hot climax is a treat.
I should be used to occasions like this. He’s always surprising me. Always taking me to the edge, to the outer limits of my control.
Another shudder rattles through my body and he presses a rough kiss to my cheek. He pulls out, a move that has us both reacting ̶ he with a low groan and me with a high mewl ̶ and then rearranges my skirt so that I’m decent once more. On the outside, at any rate.
Between my pussy lips, his cum is gathering, moistening my inner thighs and thong. A hot reminder of what just happened... as if I needed one with my mind still floating on a cloud somewhere near heaven.
Behind me, I can hear him fumbling with the door but as it opens, he doesn’t move. The sound of a zipper tells me why and I’ve a few more inches to play with so I quickly make sure my hair isn’t mussed and that I don’t look as though I’ve just been fucked in a phone booth.
He steps out, his heat abandoning me and I turn around, staring at him with wide eyes. He looks at me, nods, silently telling me I look decent and takes my hand.
Sedately, as though we’d just made a call, we walk to the elevators and ride up to our room.
Neither of us says a word on the way up. As he unlocks the door, sliding the card in before opening it and letting me pass, we retain the silence. Only as the door shuts behind him, does he say, “Bedroom, two minutes. Naked. Leave your heels on.”
With a grin, I scurry ahead, running through the small lounge and into the bedroom. Tugging down my skirt and thong, I slide them off, then jerk out of my coat, and dump it on the floor. The sheer hot-pink shirt that displays my white, demi-cup bra was a teasing outfit I chose for tonight. Combined with the black pencil skirt, I was decently dressed but he could see everything.
I’ve riled him to this, to a hard and rough fuck and God, if it doesn’t thrill me.
Slipping out of the blouse and bra, I jump on the bed and just in time too, as he sweeps into the room seconds later. Exuding so much power, I shiver with it.
He looks me over, like a man buying goods and says, “Spread your legs.”
I do as asked and watch his throat work. That is the only reaction on his face at the sight of his cum slowly escaping my pussy and coating the tops of my inner thighs. He reaches forward and coats his index finger with the seed, then proffers it to me. He knows I don’t do that, so when I turn my head away, I’m not surprised that his hands are hard on my hips when he forcibly turns me over.
Out of everything I could say no to, it’s that that pisses him off the most. It doesn’t matter that I’ll experiment; do pretty much anything once... that I won’t swallow is a major sulking point.
A part of me feels smug at my hold over him, and it’s there that the reason behind my refusal to swallow lies, as mean as it is. But hell, a girl has to have something up her sleeve, doesn’t she? Especially with a guy like Nate.
Christ, I need his cock back inside me. I have four months of celibacy to make up for and I won’t see him again for another sixteen weeks.
The more time he spends fucking me, the better. And it’s something that his cock can easily accommodate. I’ve never known a man with such a recovery rate, but hell, I’m grateful for it every time we meet.
His knees land on the bed, as his weight makes the mattress dip slightly. He crawls forward, grabs my thighs and jerks them upright, forcing me to kneel with my legs wide. I comply, keeping my face to the bed, like I know he enjoys, hoping to please him with that even if I won’t by swallowing his cum.
His fingers delve into my pussy and then, move upward. I flinch at their presence at my butthole, but know this is a punishment of sorts. He plays there, teasing the rim, popping a finger inside then retreating, sliding one in to the hilt and then urging another one inside. It’s hard to believe that in most aspects of his life, Nate’s a gentleman. But in the bedroom, he drags me out of my comfort zone and forces me to accept I’m no lady once I hit the mattress.
He bends over me and opens the bedside table. There’s nothing in there except flavored condoms for when I give him a blowjob, and then lube. Lots of it. Wedging his thick shaft in there is difficult and if it didn’t feel so fucking good, I’d tell him not to do it.
I hear the sound of liquid spurting out of the bottle and tense in reaction. I hear his hand squelch slightly as he coats his cock and then the bottle’s there, at my ass. I squeal as lube drenches the rosette, entering the pucker and freezing me from the inside out.
A shocked exhalation has me gripping the bed sheets, when I feel his cock already butting against the rosette of my tush. A whimper escapes as he starts to push in, deeper, deeper. The pop of the muscle giving way to his thickness is almost audible, or at least, it feels as though it should be. As my ass gives way to his invasion, I press my face into the sheets and absorb the uncomfortable pleasure of his penetration. He rocks his hips back and forth, spreading the pucker, making it accept him. Forcing my body to take him.
The thought has me shuddering and I withhold a groan as he sinks in, finally filling me. It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel so full, almost to the brink of pain.
My breathing is nothing more than a burst of pants and gasps as he begins to fuck me, roughly at first as he displays his continued displeasure with me, then slower, deeper as his anger burns away. When his hips are flush to my butt, he pauses and repositions himself. Between my legs now, he moves so his ankles are hooked behind each of my knees, dragging me closer to the mattress and spreading my legs wider.
I yell, shrieking at the new depth of his cock inside me and my body flushes as he forges the path for an extra inch. That thick fullness is my undoing. I try to reach down between my legs, desperate to play with my clit, but he won’t let me. He grabs my hands and places them overhead. With his prosthetic, he imprisons mine and with his good hand, he grips my ass and uses it as leverage to fuck me harder. His hoarse cry tells me he’s done
, never mind the gentle pulsation as his cum slams into my butt.
When he sinks over me, his weight is a pleasant if heavy burden, but my body is still in fuck mode and I’m suffering. My clit is on fire with the need for release. Just one little touch and I’d be with him, slumped into the mattress.
I know he can feel me wriggling underneath him, but for the moment, he chooses to ignore me.
I’m left gasping, crying out, desperate. Almost as though the incident in the phone box didn’t happen at all. Almost as though I haven’t cum in four months, when just last night I climaxed six times. Never mind this morning or evening!
My greedy body needs release and only my fidgeting brings relief. Eventually, I know he’ll move and I’m not wrong. He launches himself upright so he’s no longer resting on me and smacks my ass, before pulling out and making me shudder at the sensation of emptiness. I stay there, knowing he’ll be mad if I move again and wait. Just wait.
My desperation to cum is pleasurably painful. But I don’t have to endure the agony of being denied for long. The mattress bounces again and I feel him between my legs. His hair brushes my inner thighs and I shudder, wishing I could see him as he laps at my cunt.
To say I stiffen at that first lick is an understatement. I pause there, hovering as tension riddles my body, while he licks and flicks his tongue down through my cum-soaked pussy lips. Swallowing his seed is something I always refuse, but the idea of him tasting himself is heady. I shudder again at the very prospect and then grunt as he begins to suck down hard on my clit. Within minutes, I’m yelling out, my hands banging the pillows as release surges through me like an electric shock. It wings its way around my system, burning out nerve endings and filling me with such peace that tears fill my eyes.
It’s always this way with Nate. He takes me to the edge, forces me to see past the Marina I think I know. He’s rough, mean and playful but I thank God he’s mine for the moment. I don’t want to think it, especially when every synapse in my brain has turned to mush, but I know we’re broaching a precipice.
Just A Woman (Marina: Part Two: Naughty Nookie Series) Page 1