by Kira Cox
I clenched my hips around him as he pinned my arms back and rode his arched cock, squeezing him hard. The pressure in my core built again as he found his rhythm and nipped at my bared breasts, a crazed animal whose only desire was to mark me.
Steps away, Maya panted furiously, our animal sounds a fuel to her voyeuristic need. Slade turned us sideways, watching her while he pumped inside me furiously. I leaned down to take his small dark nipple in my mouth, a movement that simply fueled her assault. She groaned deeply, sliding three fingers into her own depths. Holding our eyes, she licked them one by one, slowly, slowly, as Slade's thrusts came faster and more frenzied. The visual assault proved a heady combination; my slick heat clenched again and again as her moans carried across the room, evidence that she'd reached her peak.
His hands supported my round ass while he rubbed and squeezed and pinched, his finger reaching below his balls to massage my clit. Sparks of pleasure flew through me, as I shuddered, and he moved his mouth to mine, probing. His assault was almost harsh, but I didn't want him to stop.
The door was open now. Suddenly I felt free—free of my past, free of the librarian cliches, free of any inhibition. I wanted her to see it all, see every stroke he gave me, every shudder I took as he rubbed my slit. I wanted to see her, too, see her nipples tighten, her wet heat open and propped on a shelf as Slade plowed me from behind.
As if he'd heard my thoughts, he flipped me and mounted me from behind. His hard length pushed into me, his hands on my hips. One hand dipped to seek purchase on my clit, the circle of his motions matching Maya's through my line of sight. His hand dipped, pinched. Her hand reached into her own slick folds, dipped, pinched.
My eyes were open now. She saw me and was me.
We turned toward each other again, and the hands of time seemed to slow as he thrust into me deeply. my back pressed against the metal shelf. As he rode me, I nipped at his powerful shoulders, the salty sweat of him a taste on my tongue.
As his tempo rose, I arched my back to meet his parry, the sinewy feel of his muscles beneath my hands. Even as he took his pleasure again, he reached down between us to stroke my clit. The motion exploded me in orgasmic bliss as a pulse of hot liquid delight filled my center. His thrusts slowed as he groaned, gripping my arms so tight, an ecstatic formula of pleasure and pain.
Everything felt electric, everything felt fiery, and in the damp, low light, seeing was impossible. Only feeling.
Our bodies were slicked with sweat as we tugged on our clothes and reshelved the toppled tomes by our feet. By the time we'd dressed, the mysterious Maya had disappeared like an apparition, leaving us alone.
Helping me to my feet, Slade pushed aside my disheveled curls and brushed his lips lightly against the side of my neck.
The desk lamps blazed suddenly, breaking the dark spell.
"Thanks for helping me check things out," he said, reaching toward me to straighten my top. "Looks like there weren't any ghosts after all."
"Anytime." I smiled, grasping his belt loops and pulling him in for a final, deep kiss.
"After all, I'm a librarian. Checking things out is what I do," I said, suppressing a grin.
Once they'd gone, she drifted back toward the fireplace. She held her hands flat by the flames, and tried to remember what it was like to feel warm. But feeling temperature was beyond her now.
Her only salvation was that she could still see, still feel a fleeting memory of what it felt like to be touched. The others' passionate movements played like pictures across a movie screen. Their presence was a salvation for her lonely world.
She was still alone when the fire went out.
# # #
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Stay sexy,
Kira Cox
More Taboo Erotica By Kira Cox On Amazon
NIGHT SWIM
BANGED BY MY SIX TEACHERS
DADDY'S VIRGIN FARM GIRL
THE BILLIONAIRE'S PLANE RIDE
EXCERPT: NIGHT SWIM
I loved my lifeguard job at the pool. After a year of being cooped up in college classes, spending the days in the summer sun were a dream. Getting paid to work on my tan and have the guys drool over my curvy body in a barely there bikini was an added benefit. From the long days of swimming and work, my athletic body was lean and lithe.
"Hey, Nik, close up tonight, will ya?" I nodded absently in response as my manager tossed me the keys. The crystal clear blue water sparkled in the evening light. This was my favorite time at the pool. I didn't mind being the only one closing. All I had to do was pick up any litter and set up the ropes for tomorrow's team practice. The quiet dusk offered a respite after the noisy, hectic crowds from earlier in the day.
I'd better call Colt before he starts harassing me for being late, I thought.
Even though I had my own wheels and my own job now, my stepdad Colt required me to check in. When I was little, my mom had ditched us both to run away with Charles, a British guy who paid for her plane ticket to London and promptly dumped her. She never came back, and he was a little paranoid about women running off on him.
Colt had been my guardian ever since. We'd always been close, but since I turned 19, something had shifted between us. Every time I wanted to go somewhere, he'd demand I call to let him know where and when. Every time I wanted to spend time with my friends, he'd grill me incessantly about where we went, what we did, and whether anyone touched me.
Recently he'd been grouchier and grouchier. I was totally sick of it, but if I listened to a still small voice inside me, I knew that I missed the closeness we once shared.
I dumped my swim stuff in the seat of my beat-up, beloved car. I'd scrimped and saved all summer to afford the small Honda, and every time I got in it, I thumped the dashboard for good luck.
But my ceremonial thump didn't work this time. I turned the key in the ignition -- nothing. No clicks, no turning over, nothing.
Shit.
I waited five more minutes and tried again. Nope. My car was deader than that mouse I'd fished out of the pool at the start of my shift. I popped the hood and looked at the wires and engine, but since I knew nothing about cars, it was a hopeless exercise.
My phone rang, and I groaned inwardly when I saw who it was.
"You're late."
"Hi to you, too, Daddy." I sighed. He was always like this. He doesn't trust me at all.
Silence. When he was displeased, I knew. In the old days, he used to tease me, to shower me with affection -- but now it seemed like everything I did irritated him.
"Something's wrong with my car, Daddy."
"What did you do?"
"Why do you assume I did anything?" I leaned on the hood and kicked the tire in frustration. Talking to him when he was in this protective mood was a total pain in the ass.
"Because I just changed the oil last week and it was running fine then. If I can't trust you to be responsible with this car, then maybe you shouldn't have it."
"You're right, Daddy. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I shouldn't have a car, or any fun, or any time when you're not forcing me to check in every five minutes," I spat. "Could you just come pick me up?"
"You're such a brat. I ought to —" Daddy stopped short for a second.
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