Devlin's Dare

by Sabrina York

  Yeah. It was too much to ask that he might want to receive the spanking.

  “Five swats,” Avery instructed.

  Tara glowered at her and started to arrange herself over Devlin’s lap. “Hold on,” he whispered. “I think you need to pull down your jeans.”

  She gaped at him. “What?” In front of everyone?

  He shrugged. “It’s my prize.”

  “I get a prize too,” she snapped. “Don’t forget that.”

  Her threat did not seem to faze him. “Bring it on, baby,” he said.

  Oooh, would she.

  Rather than let her mortification show, she decided to play it up, shimmying her jeans over her hips in a sexy little dance. Devlin’s nostrils flared as he watched. When she draped herself over his lap, she made it a point to nudge his cock. It was hard. Hard as a rock.

  Excellent. She was going to tease him silly tonight—

  The first smack surprised her.

  She hadn’t expected it to be so sharp. She cried out in protest, but the sound was drowned out by the cheers of the crowd. “One!” they bellowed through laughs and catcalls.

  The second fell and a heat consumed her. A heat separate from the burning imprint of his hand on her ass. That he slowly stroked and soothed the spot afterwards didn’t help.

  At the third, arousal bubbled in her belly. The sheer roiling power of it stunned her. She’d been spanked before, by boys playing a similar game. But her reaction had never been so feral. Again his palm skidded slowly over her stinging skin.

  With the fourth came a hunger. A raging fever of desire. She wiggled against Devlin, pressing into the firm bulge by her hip. He hissed in a breath. His fingers tightened on her ass. She thought she heard a whimper.

  She could have been mistaken, but she was sure she wasn’t.

  She glanced over her shoulder and their eyes met, just as the fifth smack fell. And something happened between them. It was like an electric wire, live and humming and charged with lust. She wanted him. In her. And she wanted him now.

  She started to lever off his lap, but he pressed her back down and quickly landed two more swats. “Hey!” she cried, but Devlin only chuckled as he helped her stand and pull up her jeans. She wrenched away and fastened them herself, hiding the unholy flush on her face.

  Damn.

  How could he do this to her? Seven simple swats on her ass and she was ready to drag him into a back bedroom and fuck him silly.

  She made it a point to take her place in line…far away from him.

  Avery moved on to her next victim, Angela, who scored a slave collar to bestow on the attendee of her choice. She chose the Martian, which made Tara laugh. Because he looked mighty amusing in his Dom leathers wearing a collar and, apparently, glow-in-the-dark antennae.

  A few more spankings were bestowed as Avery made her way down the line, joking that she fully intended to get all her licks in. Tara hoped to hell she pulled a red ball, so she could give Devlin his just desserts. She was bound for disappointment.

  She pulled a blue one.

  “Another lap dance,” Avery announced. “Who’s it going to be?” she asked with a wink. Although her expression made clear she knew the answer.

  Tara tried to bite back a naughty grin as she turned to Devlin. Although she didn’t try very hard. “You,” she said, pointing straight at him.

  His enthusiasm was comical. But not as comical as the way his jaw dropped when she sat on the throne. “I want you to give me a lap dance.”

  “What?” A squeak.

  “And…” she waggled her fingers at his chest. “Take off that shirt.”

  He glowered at her as he complied, but she could see the flame in his eyes. As he peeled off his shirt, all the women in the room, and some of the men, hooted and whistled. He leaned in close. “You know I’m going to get you back for this,” he muttered.

  She winked. “I’m counting on it.”

  But what she wasn’t counting on was how damn good he was at lap dances.

  He started off slowly swaying his hips from side to side, gyrating in a motion that left nothing to the imagination. The bulge in his tight jeans snagged her attention. Made her mouth water. Made her imagination wander.

  As he undulated, the tight muscles of his chest rippled.

  God, he was hot. He could be a stripper…if he wanted to.

  Then he reached out one arm toward her.

  And the other.

  Touched his neck with one hand.

  And the other.

  When he crossed his arms over his hips she laughed out loud, realizing exactly what dance he was doing.

  “A real lap dance,” she insisted.

  “This is a real lap dance.” He continued doing the Macarena until he reached the hip swizzle. Then he got serious. He moved closer, hovering over her, brushing his chest over hers and breathing into her hair.

  Setting his hands on her knees, he spread her legs. She tried to resist, really she did, but she couldn’t.

  Heat scorched her as he plastered against her and slithered down her body. He was hot and transferred that heat to her in that long slow slide. He moved against her, easing downward, until he buried his face in her lap.

  She didn’t imagine the little nip he gave her on the inside of her thigh, but if she had, the naughty grin he sent her would have convinced her.

  He made his way back up again, dragging his torso against hers, until his mouth found her neck.

  She leaped a little when he nibbled her there, and sucked.

  Lust skewered her. Oh, how she wished they were not in a room full of people. This wouldn’t be a playful lap dance. It would be a bacchanal.

  She couldn’t help raking her fingers through his hair and holding him in place until Avery tapped her toe and sighed loudly.

  “Okay, okay. We have lots more games, people,” she muttered.

  Still, Devlin didn’t budge. “I like it here,” he murmured into Tara’s ear, and she laughed. Her laughter stalled when he rubbed his cock against her belly in a suggestive way.

  And she was very susceptible to suggestion.

  Especially this kind of suggestion.

  “I need you,” he said.

  “Later,” she whispered, very aware that everyone, including Holt and Bella, were gaping at them. Some of them drooling.

  Devlin pulled back to meet her eye. “Promise?”

  “Get off.” She pushed at his hard, immovable chest.

  “Promise first.”

  “Okay,” she grumbled, although it wasn’t a difficult promise to make. It would not be a difficult promise to keep. Another night, another fuck at least, with Devlin Fox was hardly a hardship. “I prom—“

  He sealed the word with his lips. Kissing her, consuming her, seducing her with a long, leisurely exploration. He probably would have kept kissing her if Avery hadn’t grabbed his arm and pulled him away. “Enough of that you two,” she said. And then she added, under her breath, “Get a room.”

  Devlin and Tara’s gazes met at the suggestion.

  Avery’s mansion had a plethora of rooms. Surely one of them would be empty.

  Warm wet arousal bubbled. A sizzle of anticipation scorched her nerve endings.

  But then she caught Holt’s glower and she decided it might be a good idea to wait to scamper away…until he wasn’t watching her like the proverbial hawk.

  Not that Holt was her keeper. But he did fancy himself the protector of all women in his aegis—whether she wanted to be protected or not. Even though he was here with Bella, he had accompanied Tara to the party. He would consider himself her escort.

  And as annoying as Devlin Fox could be, Tara didn’t want to see him pounded into the ground.

  Clearly, they needed to wait for an opportunity to sneak away.

  When Avery announced the next game, Dom Pong—which was similar to Beer Pong, but with ball gags—Tara knew it was time. She waited until Bella and Holt were deeply engrossed in the game, shot a look at Devlin�
�who, to her annoyance had put his shirt back on—and notched her head.

  His nostrils flared. He glanced at Holt and then slowly made his way to the stairs and disappeared.

  After a moment, Tara followed.

  It was a shock to the system to emerge from the rollicking, shadowed dungeon into the brightly lit, deserted, great room.

  As she came through the door, Devlin caught her around the waist and backed her up against the wall.

  His mouth was hot, hungry, savage on hers.

  “God,” he whispered. “I want you.”

  “Not here,” she murmured against his lips. Because she knew if she didn’t say the words, they would. Right. Here.

  Her body was on fire for him and she could tell, from the hum of arousal in him, he was mad for her as well.

  He continued to kiss her, moving toward the stairs leading to the upper floor. They bumped into furniture and nearly toppled a lamp in their frenzy to make it to a private space. Finally, he separated from her, took her hand and bolted up the stairs. Several of the rooms on the second floor were locked. The passionate moans and groans emanating from them only fueled their fire.

  Devlin ignored the rest of the doors, continuing up to the third floor. He pulled her into the first room he found free and backed her against the wall, kicking the door closed.

  They came together in a rush. A crazed scramble ensued as he unlaced her corset and pulled off her shirt as she wrestled with his. They finally gave up, and each undressed themselves, tossing their clothes into an unruly pile on the floor until they wore nothing but underwear.

  He fell onto the bed, pulling her with him, fiddling with her bra snap. “Damn thing,” he grumbled.

  She laughed. “Let me.” She sat back and reached behind her, unfastening her bra. He hissed in a breath when her breasts tumbled free.

  “Jesus.” He captured each globe in a hand and brought them to his mouth, one after the other, drawing them in with long, lingering sucks.

  She shivered. The heat of his hands on her flesh was invigorating. His touch set her afire. She angled a knee over his torso and straddled him, encouraging him to feast. As he did, she explored his shoulders, his bulging biceps with trembling fingers. Unable to resist, she scored his back with her nails.

  He growled and buried his face in her cleavage. “God. God.” He leaned back and pulled her on top of him, settling her groin on his. The pressure of his erection was nearly painful. She rubbed against him like a cat, massaging her thrumming clit through their underwear.

  As she did so, she kissed the underside of his chin and, liking the taste of him, lapped. He shivered. She scooted lower, kissing and stroking his chest, nibbling on his nipples until he wheezed a plea of some kind. She had no idea for what he begged—or perhaps a small idea. She continued lower, licking and lapping his magnificent cut abs, exploring them with such devilish attention he began to writhe.

  They both knew where this was heading, but she was determined to make him suffer. Her ass still burned from the spanking he’d given her.

  She would have her mouth on him soon—just not too soon.

  When she reached the band of his underwear, she traced his cock. Thick. Full. Throbbing. It jerked at her touch. She glanced up at him to see him staring at her with glittering eyes. His Adam’s apple worked. She grinned and exhaled a hot breath over him.

  He threw back his head with a groan. “Ah…baby…”

  Slowly she eased down his underwear, exposing his cock. Her pulse surged. It was beautiful. Simply beautiful. Her mouth watered. She swallowed heavily. She took him in her fist and stroked.

  “I’m sorry, Devlin,” she murmured.

  He jerked up. “What?” he squawked. “Sorry for what?”

  The look she sent him was scorching. “Sorry that I don’t have any peanut butter,” she said. And then she took him in her mouth.

  Chapter Ten

  Devlin’s muscles locked. His breath escaped in a harsh rush. His pulse jerked.

  Tara’s lips encased him and she nibbled the swollen head of his cock.

  Delight skittered up his spine. Insanity clouded his brain.

  Jesus, God she was beautiful, perfect.

  She took him deeper, dragging her velvety mouth over his glans, burying him in her throat. Her muscles worked him as she made her way up and down and up again. Then she took up a heinous rhythm, fucking him with her mouth, her fist playing a fiendish counterpoint along his length. He fought back a shiver, but it took him when her hand twisted around his length in a corkscrew motion, when her finger slid along his sensitive flesh to toy with his ass.

  “Jesus,” he roared, sinking his hands into her hair. Desperately trying to guide her motions. When she would not allow that, he grabbed her shoulders and hauled her up, over him. She felt so good, her weight on his body, her warmth soaking into him. He fumbled with her panties, tugging them down. “In,” he said. “I need in.”

  She set her hand on his and stilled, meeting his gaze. “Do you…”

  “What?” What? What?

  “Do you have a condom?”

  Shit. Shit. He’d nearly forgotten again. “In my jeans.”

  He shifted her off him, over to the side, though clearly she wanted to leap for his jeans.

  But he didn’t trust her around his jeans. He found them in the pile on the floor and fished around until he came up with the foil packet. He ripped it open with his teeth and returned to the bed, where she crouched, watching him like a hungry lioness.

  He’d had every intention of lying back down, of guiding her atop him, of watching as she sank down onto his cock and rode him, but when he saw her there like that, hair mussed, eyes wild, he knew he had to take her from behind.

  “Get on your knees,” he commanded as he slipped the condom onto his aching cock. A skitter of elation tore through him when she complied, presenting herself to him with knees wide. She glanced at him over her shoulder and when he didn’t move quickly enough, when he didn’t cover her and sink into her like a savage beast, she wiggled her ass.

  He couldn’t help it.

  His hand came down on one fleshy globe before he could stop it. She hissed in a growl. Her expression became even steamier.

  “Did you like that spanking?” he asked, kneeling on the bed behind her and setting himself to her gleaming opening.

  “Yes.”

  He smacked her again, loving her response.

  They were both feral. Like animals in the wild, mating.

  He spread her cheeks and lifted her, just a tad, and sank in.

  He did it slow, determined to tease her, to make her body ache for him, ache for more. Judging from her guttural groan, he hit the mark as he eased in deep. But he was teasing himself as well. He wanted to thrust. He wanted to plunge. He wanted to possess her in a wild frenzy.

  But he didn’t.

  In. Out. In. Slow. Lazy. Languorously.

  Her cunt was tight. Hot. Wet. She clenched him in a mind-boggling grip with each withdrawal. And with each withdrawal, new skeins of agony wound through his loins.

  “More,” she whimpered, burying her head in her arms. “More.”

  Oh, he gave her more.

  First, a smack on the ass, hard enough that the crack resounded through the room. Hard enough that his handprint rose on her creamy cheek. Gratification flooded him at the sight.

  She tightened around him as his hand fell. And he nearly lost his load right then and there. He clenched his ass to keep it in. Forced his mind to focus on holding back what his body so desperately wanted to give. Because he wanted more.

  He grabbed her hips and pulled her hard against him, hunching over her so with every thrust, their bodies rubbed together. He explored her from this angle and that, looking, searching and finding what gave her the most pleasure. “You like that, baby? You like that?” he murmured in her ear as he landed one hard thrust.

  “Yes. Yes.”

  He pulled out, nearly all the way, and then thrust home, mak
ing it a point to hit her there again, at that angle, the one that made her quiver and quake.

  “Yes.” She pushed back, matching his lunges with little thrusts of her own. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, punctuated by her moans and his groans.

  His pace increased.

  He wanted to go slow. He wanted to make her beg. But he was a weak man. Faster and faster, in greater and greater frenzy, he took her, possessed her, dominated her body with his. And she gave back everything, measure for measure.

  It occurred to him, as he fucked her in a fury of mindless passion, that he’d never had a partner quite like her. Never known a woman to give as good as she got, to challenge him, to demand of him that which he was desperate to give. She was as close to perfect as a woman could ever come.

  And then all thoughts flew.

  All sanity.

  All logic.

  She came around him.

  Fantastically. Her body devolved into a series of shivers and quivers and manic thrusts, milking him, stroking him, taking him right along with her.

  Stiffening, shuddering, she threw back her head and wailed.

  Her grip on his cock was blinding. A scorching wave overcame him. Consumed him. He erupted. Sank into a swell of bliss. Bliss twined with sizzling agony. With release, relief and…regret.

  Regret that it was over.

  When they were finished, still quaking in the aftermath of an all consuming orgasm, he pulled out, stripped off the condom and tossed it into the trash can, wrapped her in his arms and held her. Simply held her, savoring the feel her soft skin against his. Counting the beats of her heart as it thudded against his. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent.

  He could lay like this, stay like this, forever.

  Of course, it was not forever.

  Far too soon she stirred.

  He tightened his hold. “You’re not leaving.” A dark murmur.

  To his consternation, she chuckled. “We should get back to the party.”

  “Not yet.” He wanted to recuperate. Wanted to have her again. Before she escaped. Hopefully, not with his jeans. He dipped his head and kissed her, loving the taste of her on his tongue.

  But again, she shifted. Pulled away. “We should get back.”