Stripped

by Tori St. Claire

  N

  atalya gasped at the tickle of Brandon’s breath. Warm, soft lips moved across her skin, following the waistband of her shorts. When he reached her side, he scattered the same slow, lingering kisses across her midriff to the opposite hip, only to return once more to center where he dipped the tip of his tongue into her belly button. Pleasure fragmented through her body. She clamped her hands on his shoulders to keep from stumbling and closed her eyes. He was doing it again. Making her feel. Slowly stripping away her control. She floated to a daunting height, hanging precarious on some unseen ledge. The fear of falling tugged at her mind. But a deeper, wiser voice assuaged that apprehension with a promise of safety.

  He traced the circumference of her belly button with his tongue, drawing pinpoints of heat to the surface of her skin. She tightened her fingers against the slow spreading warmth and reveled in the reverent way he worshipped such a benign portion of her body.

  “Brandon…,” she exhaled.

  The nip of his teeth answered. His cheek rubbed against her quivering stomach. Beneath her fingertips, his shoulders expanded as he pulled in a deep breath. His ragged exhale stirred the fine hairs on her skin.

  He lifted his mouth for a moment, opening his eyes to look up at her. Their gazes locked for several stuttered heartbeats, and something passed between them Natalya couldn’t define. Acceptance maybe. The unspoken acknowledgement they couldn’t control what was happening between them, along with the understanding that all the desire they’d toyed with had come to one final, devastating end. No stopping it. No turning back.

  His eyelashes lowered, and his lips grazed across her abdomen. She held on, trapped in place by feelings she’d never known, as he lowered the waistband of her shorts. Gradually his mouth inched lower, her clothing giving way with the unhurried tug of his hands. He bared her bit by bit, nudging aside one protective layer after another with each small sliver of skin he unveiled.

  Natalya trembled so violently it was all she could do to breathe. But his hands were there to hold her up, to stop her from falling into a limp pool at his feet. Her shorts and underwear tumbled, the last bit of elastic drawn over her legs. They gathered at her ankles, confining her further. She knew she should kick them aside, should do something other than cling helplessly to Brandon’s shoulders. Yet no matter how her mind instructed her to move, she couldn’t function.

  He spanned one large palm over her bottom, supporting her as the other hand ran down the length of her leg. Gently, he cupped her ankle and pulled it free from the gathered cotton. He lifted her leg, cradling her calf as if she was as fragile as a porcelain doll, and set her foot on the cushion. Subtle calluses scraped pleasantly over her thigh, teased the sensitive skin at her hip, and glided around to join the hand holding her up.

  Knowing what came next, she gasped before his mouth ever touched her. When it did, when that searing heat nuzzled through downy curls and his tongue slipped between her damp folds, her hips bucked forward. Her fingers bit into his shoulders, and she sagged into his hands. Oh, God… please…

  Sparks crackled through her veins.

  Brandon held her on her feet effortlessly. His fingers massaged her buttocks as his tongue swirled over her swollen clitoris. He suckled at the hardened nub. Scraped it with his teeth, only to soothe the bite by suckling again. She shuddered violently. Strong thumbs pressed into her hips, guiding her pelvis forward, and his tongue delved lower to lap at her weeping opening.

  She waited for words, accustomed to Dmitri’s brash and vulgar vocalizations. But Brandon didn’t make a sound, as if he sensed saying anything at all would dissolve the magic that engulfed them. Pleasure soaked through her limbs. It stormed down her spine, shot through her womb, and left her aching. She moved against his mouth, countering the languorous stroke of his tongue.

  More. Please, Brandon, end the lies. Make me feel.

  His tongue slipped inside her, and she let out a moan. Using her elevated foot for leverage, she lifted into the steady, rhythmic thrusts. Ecstasy brimmed, the agonizing in and out adding drop after drop of pleasure, slowly filling her up. He pushed in deep, sliding against her swollen tissues, his mouth hot against her overwarm flesh. One hand slid around the curve of her bottom, in between the thin crevice of her cheeks to massage the tiny hidden entrance there. A brief moment of apprehension slipped into her spine. She should be offended, had been every time Dmitri attempted to touch her there. Yet, at the same time, Brandon moved his masterful mouth to her clit and sucked the nub hard, turning apprehension into something dark and exotic. She pushed against his mouth, pressed back against the pressure of his middle finger.

  “Brandon. Oh, God…” What are you doing to me?

  Tearing her into pieces, that’s what he was doing. Making her want so badly it had become painful, the need for release, blinding. She shifted against his mouth, aching with pleasure. When he edged his tongue back inside her, her pussy clamped around the glorious intrusion. She didn’t know which way to move, which sensation to chase, the ecstasy of his tongue fucking her, or the torment of his finger easing closer, pushing barriers no one had ever breeched before.

  She undulated against him, no longer able to control the motion of her body. As pleasure rose, and she struggled to remain upright, Brandon nudged the tip of his finger beyond the tight muscle, delving ever-so-slightly into her forbidden channel, and sparks burst behind her closed eyes. Natalya overflowed, her pussy pulsing around his probing tongue, her body trembling against the unexpected, astounding invasion. She screamed with the force of her release, calling his name.

  Floating. Falling. Up or down… she didn’t know. But if heaven existed on earth, Brandon had taken her there, and she never wanted to return to the world she knew. She clung to his shoulders, trembling as her hips slowed in time with the slide of his tongue. He guided her through her orgasm until he brought her safely to the ground, the landing painless, the journey divine.

  As he scattered light kisses to her belly button her death grip on his shoulders relaxed. She opened her eyes to look down into his molten gaze. Something unnamable moved within her then, stilling her heart and squashing her lungs.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

  She swallowed to wet her dysfunctional throat. But before she could dismiss his praise with a laugh, he eased her into his lap and wound his arms around her waist. Despite the confines of his jeans, she felt the insistent press of his swollen cock against the flesh he had loved so thoroughly.

  One hand lifted to tug her hair free from the ponytail. “Goddamn mesmerizing, Natalya.” A smile touched his mouth as he ran his fingers through her hair. Shifting position, he sprawled onto his side, laying her alongside him. “When your eyes sparkle that way, they do something to me. I don’t know what it is, but…” He shook his head with a wistful expression. Lowering his voice, he murmured, “It’s powerful.”

  Her cheeks heated, his praise unexpected and wholly unfamiliar in her world of cruel intentions and even crueler minds.

  “All I want to do is get lost in you.” He dropped his mouth to the thick vein at the side of her neck, his hand sliding beneath her shirt to cup her breast. “You should wear green more often. I like it on you.”

  With that singular phrase, Brandon shattered Natalya’s paradise. The warmth in his hand turned to ice. The comfortable pressure of his body became an unbearable weight. She edged away, unable to see cropped dark hair and captivating tawny eyes. Instead, she stared at Dmitri. Felt his soulless body cover hers.

  Every damning aspect of what she was smacked into her. A liar. A manipulator. A killer. And she’d just done the unthinkable with Brandon, she’d given herself to him. Not just physically, she’d allowed that hidden portion of her soul to escape its corral with a man who was real. A man she lied to at every given opportunity and she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t be… Natalya. Not unless she wanted to stand at the edge of his grave and mourn the life she’d taken.

  This couldn’t continue.<
br />
  “What time is it?”

  His brows dipped, confusion clouding his gaze. He glanced at the wall behind her. “Three. Why?”

  “I’ve got to go. I need to get ready for work.”

  Sharp and severe, his frown settled into place. But his anger reflected inward, not out through his quiet, speculative stare.

  “Let me up,” she insisted quietly.

  “No.” He dragged the word out as if considering whether he should say it at all. Then, more decisively, he repeated, “No.” Dragging a knuckle across her cheek, he released his frown and his gaze searched her face. “I said something wrong. Tell me what.”

  Natalya forced out a laugh. “Don’t be silly. That was very nice. I just need to get home and get ready for work.”

  His head moved side to side in minuscule fractions. “No. You were right here with me when that was incredible. Now you’re gone and it’s nice. What did I say?”

  Incredible. No one had ever told her that her solo orgasm had been incredible.

  She shoved down the rising pleasure. He could read her, which meant he’d already gotten too close. She turned her head aside. “Please. Take me home, Brandon.”

  Instead, his lips trailed down the side of her neck. Slowly. Deliberately. At the same time his hand skated over the flat of her belly, drifted lower to the damp curls between her legs. He cupped her pussy, but kept his fingers still, using his mouth alone to tease her flesh back into wakefulness.

  His lips tugged at her earlobe. His tongue traced the delicate shell of her ear. “If you really want to go, I will. But I don’t think you do.” To prove his point he pressed his middle finger against her wet opening and swirled a lazy circle. Her hips automatically lifted into his hand. A soft sigh escaped her lips as all thoughts of Dmitri faded beneath Brandon’s gentle touch.

  “Do you?” he asked, his voice like gravel against her skin.

  No. But she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Could barely form the thought. Fire slid back into her veins, and she rotated her hips, silently begging him to push inside her and quell the growing ache.

  She nearly whimpered when he withdrew both his hand and his body, leaning back to grasp the hem of her shirt. As he pushed it up her body, Natalya leaned forward, allowing him to remove the last of her clothes. When both her shirt and bra lay on the floor, Brandon gathered her breasts in his hands and placed a chaste kiss on each pert nipple. “Powerful things, sweetheart. I want to fuck you so badly it hurts.”

  For once, the choice of words didn’t send revulsion tripping down her spine. Instead, his raw honesty lit her up like a match. She reached for him, suddenly desperately hungry for all the pleasure Brandon could create.

  His chuckle lighted tender warmth in his eyes. “Not so fast this time, sweetheart. We’re gonna take it nice and slow, and I get to drive.”

  Drive her into oblivion? Who was she to object? Obediently she fell back into the cushions, yielding to the questing touch of Brandon’s fingertips as he traced her curves. From shoulder to ankles, he explored her flesh, his mouth following the caress of his hands. The touch was so feather-soft she squirmed beneath him, want intensifying into a burning need. “Brandon. Please.”

  B

  randon closed his eyes to the pleading quality of Natalya’s voice. If she begged again like that, no matter how much he liked the sound of it, he’d blow. He couldn’t remember a time where the mere act of touching a woman had him so on edge. But the more he explored Natalya’s body, acquainting himself with all her sensitive spots, the more he struggled to chain his own mounting desire. He bent over her again, sliding his hands up her long, lithe legs, spreading her thighs until her wet pussy opened to him. He loved the taste of her. The musky flavor that held a hint of something he couldn’t define but couldn’t get enough of. When she’d come against his tongue he’d lapped as if he’d been denied water.

  Drawn to that dewy paradise, he slid his tongue through her folds, suckled at her swollen clitoris. She bucked into him, nearly dislodging his mouth, and beneath his tongue, her flavor erupted. His cock throbbed in answer, equally hungry for the damp heat.

  Fuck. He was coming undone already. No way could he bring her back to orgasm without spilling himself right along with her. Forcing desire down, he edged his tongue inside her opening, lapped greedily, then rocked back on his heels and eased from the couch. Her gaze burned into him as he shucked his clothes, devoured his body when he stood before her completely bare. When those green eyes dropped to his cock, and he witnessed the appreciation in her paralyzing stare, his throat cinched closed. He’d kept himself in shape, but no one had ever looked at him that way. No one.

  “Come here,” she whispered, her hand extended.

  The quiet request punched through his momentary paralysis, and he slipped his palm into hers, allowing her to draw him back to the couch. He knelt between her legs, bent over and captured her in a heated kiss. Her tongue tangled with his, wild and untamed, until breathing became impossible and he had to tear his mouth away to gasp in much-needed air. The pressure in his balls demanded satisfaction, and Brandon could no longer fight his raging desire. He needed this. Needed the firm grip of her pussy, the hot, wet depths to glove him tight.

  Bracing his weight on his elbow, he leaned over her, pulled open his coffee table drawer, and fished out a condom. A smile touched her mouth as he ripped open the packet with his teeth. “May I?”

  He nearly choked at the thought of her wicked fingers coming anywhere near his cock. Shaking his head, he chuckled. “If you touch me, it’s all over.”

  She nodded, but the lift of her hips, the slow gyration she made beneath him as he rolled the condom on, teased. Her wet flesh met his throbbing cock, and even through the thin barrier between their skin, he felt her searing heat. Brandon sucked in a sharp breath. Dodged her hands as she reached to guide his cock inside her.

  Her eagerness broke him. Never had sex been so absolutely necessary. So imperative. Nor had it been so mandatory that he watch himself slide inside her flesh. But it was, and he gripped her hips, lifting her body until the head of his cock aligned with her slick opening. Her hands locked onto his forearms, nails biting into his skin. Holding his own breath against the cataclysmic pleasure, Brandon eased the tip of him inside her tight, wet heat.

  Ecstasy slammed into him. She gripped him hard, her pussy clamping around his rigid length, nudging him closer into headless abandon. So much for taking his time and drawing this out. No way could he wait.

  With one prolonged thrust, he slid deep inside her. He watched as her flesh ate him up, as his cock speared into her pussy. Heaven. Goddamn paradise.

  Natalya’s back came off the couch, her cry as sharp as glass. His cock pulsed against the tightening of her tissues, and it took every bit of self-restraint he possessed to fight down release. He breathed through his nose, counted the hash-marks between the numerals on his wall-hanging clock.

  Then, Natalya moved beneath him, bending her knee, shifting so he slid in a hairsbreadth deeper. Christ! She was tight. Blisteringly hot.

  And he was done for. He pulled back, drawing out the pleasure of sliding through her pussy, then plunged in hard. Her arms laced behind his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist. Her pleas, her muted cries urged him on. The rapture in her expression tore him apart at the seams, and Brandon wasn’t sure he’d ever come all the way together again. He thrust again, and she opened her eyes. Fathomless depths of jade bared her soul. He couldn’t look away. Lost in that mesmerizing stare, he felt her so deeply he’d swear they’d become one. He knew then. Something had cracked inside him. A permanent rend.

  He blocked the unsettling discovery and increased their tempo. Harder, faster, he fucked her until he silenced the yearnings he couldn’t name.

  “Brandon!”

  As his name tore from her lips, her nails scored into his shoulders. She arched her back, lifting into his driving body, and a throaty moan possessed her. Around his cock, her flesh gripped tig
ht. He gave in to ecstasy, feeling his climax rip through his veins. He drove inside her once more, his thoughts a haze of blissful nothingness as he came.

  Natalya’s legs relaxed around his waist. She slid her hands along his spine, gentle pressure urging Brandon’s body down against her sweat-slickened skin. He tumbled into her embrace, his heart beating a frantic rhythm as he dusted kisses across her shoulder. “So beautiful. You are so beautiful when you come, sweetheart.”

  A faint smile drifted over her lips as she murmured, “So are you.”

  Twenty-five

  B

  randon opened his eyes to the late-afternoon sunlight. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. His living room… His couch… The warm body sleeping in the crook of his arm brought the memories back in a rush. Natalya. She’d drifted off while he tried to make sense of what had happened to him in her arms. He must have fallen asleep as well. Huh. That was a first. Not the nap, but that he’d napped with company. Feminine company. In broad daylight as opposed to the middle of the night.

  Lying motionless, he took inventory of all the places they touched. Ankles twined. Legs tangled, her knee tucked securely between his. Her hip fit into his groin, the gentle curve of her waist molded against his belly. Soft breasts rose and fell beneath his arm as she breathed, and her hair tickled the side of his neck.

  Pleasantly.

  Yeah. She felt good. He could relax like this for a long time. Maybe wake her up with his mouth, coax her back to that incredible place where all he could think of was being inside her. But as the idea surfaced, another voice in his head balked at the notion. Why disturb her when this was so satisfying? Maybe he’d just close his eyes a little longer…

  He let his eyelashes fall. Yeah.

  The silence settled around him, tugging him back into the contented void of sleep. They’d be late to work, but not by much. His internal clock would have him up at five. Fifteen, twenty minutes max. Still plenty of time to navigate their mutual responsibilities.