He released her from his mouth, still meeting her gaze, to drag his tongue up over the pointed pink tip. She saw the wetness he’d left, glistening in the moonlight. He moved his tongue in a slow circle around her nipple, ending with the leisurely licks one might give an ice cream cone.
She trembled at his ministrations, literally thought she’d come apart soon. But she didn’t want to come yet—she wasn’t a multiple orgasm sort of girl, so she needed to save it, needed to soak up more of him before she climaxed.
She said the words she’d been saying to him in her mind, without even an ounce of hesitation—although they came out breathy. “Fuck me, Braden. Fuck me.” Like other certain words, she seldom used that one, but Braden had brought it out of her almost naturally, in front of the webcam, and now.
He kissed her again, heatedly, then leaned near her ear to whisper a promise. “I’m gonna fill you up, honey.”
With that, he reached for the drawstring on her pants and pulled, then grabbed for the waistband, taking her panties as well when she lifted her ass. She shoved at his T-shirt as she kicked her pants off— what had been slow and rhythmic up to now had just turned more urgent. She had to have him inside her. Her body ached for him. Her pussy pulsed with need.
Above her, Braden ripped his shirt off over his head, then unzipped his jeans and pushed them off with her help. His cock stretched naked now against her bare thigh, so utterly hard, and damp at the end, making her cunt surge yet again. The sheets concealed him from the waist down, but his chest appeared broad and his arms and shoulders sculpted in the shadowy light.
She watched as he reached for the jeans he’d just discarded, digging in a pocket, flipping open a wallet. She waited, trying to be patient, as he tore into a small packet. Unfortunately, the blankets blocked the moonlight from illuminating his erection as he rolled the condom on.
He pushed her legs apart with both hands, and she savored his masculine touch on her inner thighs. “Fuck me,” she said again. Just letting that inner bad girl back out some more. Just to excite him.
“Soon,” he replied, stunning her.
Soon? Before she could protest, though, Braden disappeared swiftly under the covers and, a few seconds later, dragged one long, luxurious lick up the center of her pussy. “Oh God!” she cried, the pleasure spiraling through her like electricity, leaving her astonished she didn’t come just from that.
And then he was moving smoothly back up her body, positioning his hips over hers, pushing at her moisture, forcing his way inside, and—God, he was big! She pulled in her breath at the marvelous impact, adjusting to the sense of fullness, quite sure she’d never been with a man so large. He hadn’t lied—about filling her up. Or the Washington Monument. She involuntarily curled her fingernails into his smooth shoulders, her teeth clenched.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, tried to speak. “You’re huge.”
His grin shone with manly arrogance. “Told you.”
“I’ve never . . . um . . .” She couldn’t form words.
“Does it hurt?”
She gave her head a shake against the pillow. “No, I’m just trying . . . to get used to . . .” She was squeezing the phrases out between heavy breaths.
“Does this help?” he asked and began to move, to thrust in slow, even drives.
Oh God, did it. “More,” she whimpered.
Her eyes fell shut, but she sensed his conceited grin. “I’ll give you more, all right, baby. I’ll give you all you can handle.”
She bit her lower lip as he increased his strokes, making them longer, deeper. Her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, locking at the ankles. He groaned in response, his hands molding to her hips as he pumped into her. “I knew you’d be tight, baby, so wet and tight for me.”
Laura had found his dirty talk arousing on the computer, but hearing it in that deep, seductive voice nearly stole her breath. This man knew exactly how to do something no other man ever had—make her forget all about being sensible and conservative. “Are you going to do what you promised?” she whispered up to him.
His hands slid to her breasts, his thumbs brushing across her beaded nipples. “What’s that, honey?”
“Are you going to fuck the conservatism right out of me?”
A naughty grin accompanied the lecherous sparkle of his eyes. “Oh yeah, baby.”
He plunged into her harder then, making her cry out with each firm thrust. She lifted her hands over her head, pressing them to the large wooden headboard for leverage. Her body was growing more used to him—less overwhelmed, allowing her to sink deeper into pure pleasure. Not only the physical pleasure of having him inside her, but the mental pleasure, too. The knowledge that she’d never done this before, slept with a man she didn’t know very well, and that he was utter perfection and that it was exciting as hell. Everything she saw was like a visual assault: his dark, sexy eyes, his large hands massaging her breasts, their bodies moving together in a heated rush.
He went so long and hard in her that she was sure he’d come, and she didn’t even care whether or not she did, because this was an entirely different kind of pleasure, unrelated to orgasm, about nothing but the way their bodies connected, the slick interlock, the powerful drives that reverberated all through her. She loved absorbing every hot stroke he delivered, loved the little cries they forced from her throat, the way she felt nearly out of her head with lusty joy, unable to think clearly, only to soak it in.
“I want to make you come,” she heard herself say.
He softened his thrusts, took her face in his hands. “Not yet, baby.”
She didn’t argue. Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t exactly ready for this to be over just yet, either. But she gasped when he eased back, drawing out of her. She’d never felt so abandoned and empty in her life. “What . . . ?” she heard herself utter in shock.
Rolling over, he pulled her on top of him until she straddled his thighs. Using two fingers, he plucked at one shoulder strap of her cami. “Take this off.”
She obliged, removing it over her head.
He skimmed his hands slowly over her from hips to shoulders, then back again, gently tweaking her nipples along the way. She slid her palms up his firm stomach onto his chest, dusted with dark hair. Her eyes dropped to his penis, still rock-hard, arcing up his abdomen in the moonlight, past his navel. Dear God, he was as big as he’d felt.
“I’ve watched this beautiful body of yours on my computer screen, honey,” he said, “and it’s so good to finally have you in my arms.” His hands splayed over the tops of her thighs before gliding slowly inward, inward, so close to her cunt she thought she’d scream from frustration. She heard her own breath, growing ragged again, and then—ah, God—he stroked one thumb up the center of her wet folds, then the other. She couldn’t help pushing lightly at the touches, each ending with the slightest brush over her swollen clit.
“And I’ve seen this pretty body come so hot for me,” he went on, still stroking her pussy, his thumbs moving gradually deeper, deeper into her open slit, “but now I want to make you come. Make you come hard and hot. Just for me.”
Pulling in her breath, meeting his piercing eyes, she spoke her heart. “You made me come already. Every time. It was you—it was knowing you watched me. You must know that.”
A sexy smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “But this is still different. You said you wanted my hands, my cock.”
She let out a long, languid sigh, along with a nod, still shocked that she had said those things. “I did. I do.” Her gaze dropped again to that phenomenal appendage.
“Well, now they’re gonna make you come, baby. And I’m gonna watch it wash over you, watch you soar, watch you lose control.”
She tilted her head, curled her fingertips into his chest. “Don’t you know? I lost control the moment I realized you were watching me. And maybe I regained it, for a little while, but it’s gone again—and I don’t think it’s coming back this ti
me.”
His smile widened. “That’s what I want. You without any control. You just doing what feels good. You forgetting about everything except pleasure.”
Like an answer, she let her hand go where it wanted, straying from his chest down to his shaft stretching so prominently between them. Her fingers curled lightly around it and he groaned.
“Ride me,” he said.
And she couldn’t think of anything she could possibly want more.
Rising to her knees, she hovered over him, enjoying the feel of his eyes still roaming her body. She’d never felt more wholly feminine or sexual. And though she’d never touched herself for anyone before Braden and no longer needed to since he was here to do it for her now, she followed a whim and let her palms glide up onto her breasts, squeezing sensually as she caught her nipples between thumb and forefinger to pinch lightly. Braden’s hands played about her hips as he watched, his breath going shallow. And for the first time it dawned on her: through a loss of control over herself, she was gaining a certain measure of control—over him.
Situating herself directly over his erection, she wrapped her fist around it once more, positioning it upright, then lowered herself until the head met her swollen flesh. Needing him back inside her, she pushed her pelvis firmly downward, sheathing him in her slickness.
They both moaned at the reconnection, but Laura wondered at first if she could handle the position. She’d forgotten that being on top made her feel a guy’s cock even more, and at the moment, Braden’s felt incomprehensibly big in her. She instantly leaned forward, curving her body down over him, crushing her breasts into his chest. “How can you be so big?” she asked on impulse, her mouth near his ear.
He chuckled heatedly. “You don’t like it?”
“I love it—I’m just not sure I can take it.”
He turned his head to face her—their eyes, mouths, rested no more than an inch apart. “You can take it, honey,” he said as if it were an absolute fact.
“How do you know?”
Certainty glimmered in his eyes. “I saw you take the one I sent to you.”
The reminder almost embarrassed her, yet somehow that was passing. She was surprised, though, to hear herself laugh. “Did you have to pick a purple one?”
He grinned and she melted a little deeper into his chest. “I thought girls liked purple.”
She returned the playful smile. “For a sweater, sure. But, my God, a purple penis?”
“I think, honey, that when they come in colors it’s supposed to make them seem more fun.”
She blinked, feeling a bit thick. “Oh. I guess I . . . wasn’t thinking of it as fun then.”
“And now?” He raised his eyebrows.
She bit her lip, thinking. “Now, this is fun. Your cock is fun.”
The expression in his eyes said he liked her answer. “Then you must think you can take it.”
She bit her lip and met his gaze, raising slightly, the move elevating her breasts just enough that her nipples abraded his skin. As he sighed his pleasure, she rose farther, sitting up, to realize her body had again magically adjusted to him. He still felt enormous in this position, but not so overwhelming that she couldn’t enjoy it. “You’re bigger than the toy, but you’re right, I can take it,” she assured him, her voice lower than she knew was possible. And then she began to move, to let her body guide her. “I can definitely take it.”
She swiveled in small but potent circles atop him as she pressed her palms to his chest. She peered unabashedly into his hypnotic eyes. Her clit brushed against his body with each rotation, enough to lift her slowly higher, higher, toward the peak she sought.
“You’re so hot, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with a sensuality that seeped into her veins. His words fueled her, and so did his eyes. She supposed she’d grown accustomed to having them on her, even when she hadn’t been able to see them, but now, she relished them even more.
Again, she found herself kneading her breasts while he watched.
“You look so good doing that.”
“Do you want to kiss them?” she asked, her voice that of a sex nymph. She never said such things in bed—never, until this, until Braden. He’d clearly loosened something in her, and now that it was out, she wasn’t sure it would ever go back in.
“Ah yeah, baby, bring me those pretty breasts.”
Still moving on him in hot little circles that rubbed her clit just the right way, she bent to lower one nipple into Braden’s waiting mouth. “Oh . . .” she purred when he sucked hard, the pleasure seeming to multiply the gathering pressure in her pussy. “Oh, that’s good. Don’t stop.”
He suckled so intensely it almost hurt, but more than that, it increased her pleasure, driving her toward climax. She moved on him more roughly, too, clenched her teeth, felt the heat building, building. She shut her eyes and remembered the way he’d watched her, the shocking things she’d done to thrill them both, and that he was here now, truly here now, his huge cock thrusting up into her hungry, hungry body—and then she toppled, into the sweetest, most lingering orgasm she’d had in a long while. Her body convulsed at the start, then she found the waves and rode them out, letting them carry her until at last she collapsed, exhausted, back to his chest.
“Mmm, how was that?” he asked, his voice beaming with typical male pride.
She still couldn’t believe she was pressed up against him, flesh to bare, perfect, hard flesh. “Amazing,” she breathed, still limp and trying to recover.
And as she came back to herself, she realized how much she wanted to take him where she’d just been. He’d seen her climax over and over, yet she’d never seem him in ecstasy, and it seemed high time to change that. “I want to make you come now,” she told him, her voice raspy. She began to move on him again, just a little.
“That won’t be difficult,” he said on a low laugh.
“What can I do?” she asked breathily, sitting up to peer down on his gorgeous face. “How can I make you come?”
“Tell me you want it,” he said, staring up at her. “Talk to me the way you did before, over the webcam. Talk dirty.”
Laura bit her lip. Right about now was when she generally went sullen and morose on him. After her orgasm. But—joyfully—having Braden here with her, inside her, changed everything. She’d never talked dirty in her life to a guy before Braden, and doing it in an essentially empty room hadn’t felt quite as real as this did, but it still came shockingly easy. Proof, she supposed, of just how hot he got her.
“I want you to come in me, baby,” she cooed, running her hands up his flat stomach onto his chest. “I want you to come so hard, want you to come deep in my pussy.” She rocked on him then, more emphatically than before since this was about his pleasure, not hers. She felt the jiggle of her breasts and watched his eyes drop there and knew the plain, simple delight of being a boundless, brazen woman with no worries over what anyone thought of her. “I want you to fuck me, baby, fuck me with that big, hard cock until you can’t hold back another second, and then I want you to come in me—so fucking hard.”
“Ah, fuck, I am, honey—I am.” His voice sounded strained as his hands pressed down on her hips, his erection thrusting hotly up inside her. The pressure was enormous and overwhelming, and she screamed, not with pain, but with the impossible fullness he delivered. One, two, three wild drives that each lifted them from the bed with brute force as he groaned deeply. She watched his teeth clench, his eyes fall shut, his face wrench in an agony she knew was actually joy, and she loved having made him feel something so brutal and severe.
Once again, she bent to rest against his chest, and his arms came around her, pulling her close. She thought they’d stay silent, thought maybe he’d drift off to sleep as guys so often did after sex, and she decided she wouldn’t mind if that happened without him even pulling out of her since something about it struck her as bizarrely erotic. But instead he whispered in her ear. “Do you have any idea how breathtaking you are?”
/> The words sifted down through her like sweet powdered sugar, the supreme compliment, and it meant so much more now that their sex was real. “I know you make me do things I’ve never done before.” For the first time, she said it without shame or regret.
“Do you know,” he said, even more softly, seductively, “that we’re only just getting started here? Do you know that, before this is over, you’re going to do things with me you’ve never even imagined?”
She lifted her head to meet his gaze in the shadows. His words made her insides sizzle, but she wasn’t surprised. Subconsciously, she must have known the moment he slipped into bed with her that he wouldn’t have come all this way just for one simply lay. “Yes, I know. And I can’t wait to see what they are.”
He drew his head back deeper into the pillow, his look teasing. “And you’re not going to fight me, act outraged and offended, and tell me over and over that this isn’t you?”
She blinked, then smiled gently into his eyes. “Probably, at some point,” she replied, reaching up to cup his stubbled cheek. “But I guess you’ll just have to persuade me.”
With that, she kissed him, another stunning we’ve-been-kissing-each-other-forever kiss, and it shored up her resolve. This man had found something in her she hadn’t known existed. Part of her wanted to cringe—it felt so foreign. But if she was honest, a bigger part of her was fascinated with her new self, and she wanted nothing more than to keep fascinating him, too.
Chapter Seven
The only bad thing about the marvelous floor-to-vaulted-ceiling windows in the bedroom was when the morning sun came blasting through. But Laura didn’t really mind—since her arrival here, the sun had gotten her up and to the computer early, and now, today, it didn’t bother her because she had such a nice view. Not of the vast wintry landscape outside, but of the man in her bed.
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