The Greatest Risk

by Kristen Ashley

She came in, eyes locked to his, sinking her teeth sharply in his bottom lip. He felt pain and instantly tasted blood, but she yanked back, pulling his flesh with her, and Christ …

  Christ.

  He felt his cast-iron cock start to weep.

  She let his lip go and forced out hoarsely, “You. Now.”

  Not thinking, suddenly and for the first time in his life at someone’s command, his hands went to his jeans.

  He handled the fly. Simone was at the ready right when he got the zip down, and she dragged them over his ass.

  His cock sprung blissfully free, and Stellan had to shove her hand away to take hold of his own damned self and wrest back the control that she’d seized.

  With his other arm, he rounded her hips, pulling her up to him.

  He positioned.

  She again caught hold of his jaw with both her hands.

  He drove in.

  “Beautiful Christ,” he groaned when her sleek tight closed around him.

  On a gust of breath, her head falling back, her hands slid into his hair, up, so her forearms were holding him at the back of his head.

  He dropped her to her back on his bed and started moving.

  She rounded his shoulders with her arms, righted her head, caught his eyes, and rocked with his thrusts.

  “Faster, Stellan,” she ordered, locking on to him with her heels in his ass.

  “Patience, darling,” he gritted, going slow, enjoying learning every silken inch of her, intimately.

  Her head came up swiftly.

  His reared back at the same time he lifted his hand to her face, forcing his thumb into her mouth, holding her tongue down with the pad.

  The edges of her teeth sank into his flesh, causing a sting, making his balls draw up, and he felt the smile on his lips when he drove in slow, deep, putting his face to hers.

  “Settle down, Sixx,” he whispered. Her eyes narrowed, he swiveled his hips on an inward glide, and his smile grew as he watched her eyelids flutter at the same time he felt the walls of her pussy do the same. “You had your moment. We fuck my way, honey.”

  He moved, unhurried and deliberate, completely enjoying every wet thrust.

  She changed tactics and licked his thumb.

  He carried on moving just as he liked.

  “Yes?” he prompted.

  She glared a moment.

  He swiveled again.

  Her eyes rolled back into her head.

  “Yes?” he pushed.

  Vaguely, she nodded.

  He ground in as her reward.

  Her chin tipped back, and she automatically sucked his thumb in deep.

  It was then he went faster.

  “Round my waist with your legs,” he commanded.

  She did as told.

  And Stellan went even faster, this time doing it harder.

  Hazily, she caught his eyes and sucked frantically at his thumb.

  He drew it out and exchanged it with his tongue.

  She took his cock, and he gave her the thumb she’d wetted at her clit.

  When he did, one of her hands clenched in his hair as she flung the other arm over her head and fisted it in his comforter, moaning into his mouth.

  And when she needed it, could take no more, he released her lips.

  “Don’t come,” he ordered gruffly.

  “Stellan,” she breathed, her hips meeting his thrusts wildly.

  Fuck, she was amazing.

  “Don’t you come, Simone,” he warned thickly, pounding inside her now, pushing it for himself, desperate to explode, needing more to watch what he was building in her, watch her struggle to obey his command, unintentionally doing anything in her power to snap his control so she’d be freed to let her own go.

  “Baby,” she whispered her plea, arching up into him, rubbing against him, rocking with him, pulling out all the stops.

  He kept at her with cock and thumb until it was Stellan who could take no more.

  “Now, darling,” he whispered.

  She shoved her face in his neck and flew apart.

  And he sank his teeth deep into the flesh of hers, and his world turned white.

  Everything obliterating, drawing down to nothing but the taste of Simone in his mouth, his cock pounding into her sleek, soaked beauty, his balls draining, skin rubbing and slapping against skin, sex mingled with her perfume, his cologne permeating the air, and his whole body fucking, fucking finally covering hers, buried in hers as Stellan climaxed inside his Simone.

  When the world turned to color again, and he had it in him to unlatch the hold of his teeth and automatically begin to lave the mark he’d left there, it hit him that Simone was not stroking him. Not petting him. Not quivering under him in her own aftermath.

  Legs about his waist, one arm below his shoulder blades, one hand on the back of his neck, she was holding on fast. Hard. Tight.

  He moved his thumb from her clit to put his weight into his forearm in the bed.

  But even as he took that from her, she didn’t let go.

  So he slid his lips to her ear.

  “Are you all right, honey?” he whispered.

  She didn’t answer verbally.

  Just nodded.

  He lifted his head to look down at her.

  And grew completely still.

  He didn’t move until the tear slid out the side of her eye, along her temple, to disappear in her hair.

  He bent to touch his lips to the trail and then laid his hand there, positioning his face right in hers.

  “Simone, darling, I asked if you’re all right,” he repeated gently.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “For what?” he asked.

  “For thinking I deserve you.”

  Her words caused his entire chest to cave in, and he growled.

  Then he kissed her hard and deep.

  And when he was done, he decided that was for another time.

  Now, they were celebrating.

  And they were doing that by engaging in a mind-boggling amount of fucking.

  But when he broke from her mouth, he queried, “Now would you like a cocktail?”

  She stared in his eyes. Eventually her lips quirked.

  And finally they moved.

  “Absolutely.”

  * * *

  Much later, Stellan lay naked on his back on his couch in his bedroom in front of the fire.

  Simone lay naked partly on him, partly draped down his side, her forehead in his neck, her cheek on his collarbone, her top leg thrown over his thighs, his arm around her, the warm, round cheek of her ass in his hand.

  She was out.

  Asleep.

  Done in.

  As she would be.

  Driven by something that had nothing to do with the lapse of time between his acquisitions of pussy, and everything to do with the woman right there at his side, he’d used her liberally to explore some of the surfeit of possibilities of drawing her to climax.

  On the table before them was the detritus of the remains of raids on the fridge as well as a bottle of gin, a bottle of vodka, a bottle of vermouth, an almost-empty jar of olives, two martini shakers, a silver bucket of mostly melted ice, two empty martini glasses and the sludge left behind of a half-eaten gallon of ice cream that should have gone back into the freezer three hours ago.

  His room had lit itself when the time came, lamps here and there, offering a welcoming light.

  Stellan’s eyes were on the fire.

  His breaths were coming deep, relaxed. Easy.

  His last deposit of cum was seeping out of Simone, all over his thigh.

  “Now this is fucking more like it,” he muttered.

  And then slowly …

  He smiled.

  eight

  A Man Who Has Everything

  STELLAN

  “Hold it.”

  “Baby.”

  “What did I say?”

  “But, I—”

  Both of them sitting up, Stellan’s
hands were gripping the cheeks of her behind as she rode his cock. He adjusted one, gathering her wet then sliding his middle finger up her ass.

  He watched her head drop back as she moaned, “God. That is not helping.”

  He shoved his face in her throat, and as she fucked him, he fucked her ass.

  “Faster, Simone,” he ordered.

  “If I do that, I’ll come,” she whimpered.

  He drove his finger deep, and with his other hand caught her hair in a tight grip, maneuvering her face to his own.

  “Faster,” he growled.

  She bounced on him faster, staring in his eyes, gasping against his lips, her gaze fuzzy, scattered, glorious.

  He started fucking her ass again as he brought her mouth to his, tilting her head to the side, capturing her lips, and he assumed the same rhythm she was using on his cock with his finger and his tongue.

  She took it for an admirably long time before she made a desperate noise down his throat.

  He broke the kiss and whispered, “Now you can come, darling.”

  She flew back in a total body arc, still bounding on his cock, head back, chest thrust forward, pure sex, pure beauty, all Simone, all his.

  He slid his finger out, pulled her off his cock, but kept her on her knees.

  Shifting out from between her legs and moving around her, he walked on his knees into her, pushing her closer to the headboard, grunting, “Tip.”

  She lifted her ass.

  He guided his cock and drove it home.

  Jesus, yes.

  Home.

  Her head slammed into his shoulder.

  Stellan again shoved his face in her neck as he fucked her fast, deep, and so rough, she had to reach out and latch onto the headboard to lock her arm or he’d drive her right into it.

  “God, I love your cock,” she breathed.

  This verbal confirmation was unnecessary.

  But he was still delighted to get it.

  He lifted his head and clipped, “Mouth.”

  She turned her head and offered it.

  He took her mouth, pounding inside her so hard, noises came from her throat, driving down his with each thrust until he broke the kiss, groaned, “Fuck, sweetheart,” his world cleared, went blank of everything but Simone, and he exploded inside her.

  He came down with his cock buried to the root, his ass to his calves with Simone straddling his thighs, resting into him, essentially sitting on his shaft. His forehead was in her neck, one arm tight along her belly, the other arm slanted up, fingers wrapped around her throat.

  “Just to say, baby, I’m not sure it’s necessary for you to make up for all the fucking you missed these last months in the expanse of twenty-four hours with me,” Simone joked breathily.

  Smiling, he started stroking her throat but didn’t otherwise move his hand.

  He did move his head to glide his lips up a cord at the side of her neck to her ear.

  “Are you not enjoying yourself?” he asked there.

  He felt her fingers curl around his forearm at her chest, and he lifted his head to catch her turning hers to look into his eyes.

  “I didn’t say that,” she whispered, and her warm brown eyes got warmer. “Nice wakeup call, hot stuff.”

  He felt his face get soft, then he moved in and kissed her even softer.

  Unfortunately, he had to end it and say, “I need to shower and get to work.”

  “And I need to test my walking and see if I’ve been struck bow-legged.”

  He found himself laughing, then caught himself while doing it.

  He’d never laughed while inside a woman, not in his life.

  Thirty-nine years, innumerable partners, the same amount of playthings.

  Not once.

  “Stellan?” she called, the odd note of open concern in her voice, something he’d never heard her give so nakedly, taking him back to her.

  “I’ve never laughed when I’ve been inside a woman,” he shared with her, just as openly.

  He saw the surprise flicker in her eyes only a moment before they shut down.

  Oh no she did not.

  Not then, in that moment.

  Not ever.

  His fingers that were light at her throat, tightened.

  “Simone,” he warned.

  She was looking at his cheek.

  She was also murmuring, “You need to get to work, and so do I.”

  “Can you explain to me why I’m still hard inside you, we were sharing something beautiful after sharing something beautifully pleasurable, and now you’re miles away from me?”

  She moved her gaze to focus on his eyebrows and replied, “Because we both should probably get a move on.”

  He pulled out, and she cried out when he lifted her, turned her, and planted her astride his lap, sitting on his ass in his bed, caging her with his arms and pinning her in with his thighs.

  “So, we got through the first day, and it was not painless,” he began. “But for you, it was relatively easy considering there’s a good deal of difficult issues to go over, and we haven’t even started. I own my company, so I can go in whenever I like. And I know Joel allows you to make your own schedule considering most of your work is out in the field, so even if he forced you to a schedule, he’d never know if you kept it. Since we can do as we wish, how about we start tackling those issues now? Hmm?”

  “How about we not,” she retorted, her body and voice stiff.

  He felt his eyes narrow. “That wasn’t actually me giving you a choice.”

  “Stellan,” she snapped.

  He moved one arm so he could use his thumb to press in at the scar on her lower right abdomen that he’d snagged the night before, then he moved it to the one that was an inch up and in and pressed there.

  “Shall we start with these?” he suggested.

  So abruptly he braced, she stared him direct in the eyes.

  And spoke.

  “I haven’t had a man inside me for over a year. And the last man was a sub I took in Aryas’s club in Vegas. And I took him because he reminded me of you.”

  Stellan ran his hand up her side, over her ribs, breast, chest, to her neck, murmuring, “Simone.”

  “I hadn’t had an orgasm in months, until you gave me one at the pit,” she declared. “Not even a handjob or likewise.”

  “Darling,” he whispered.

  “You want to go over issues? You want me to be real? You asked how long I’ve wanted you, Stellan. Here’s your answer, baby. Since the first second I laid eyes on you.”

  “Simo—”

  “Back when you were in love with Amélie.”

  “We went over that, sweetheart,” he reminded her quietly, realizing he’d made another mistake, poked the lioness, and now he needed to soothe her back to a purr.

  She tipped her head sharply to the side. “I’ve been hung up on you for years. Still feel like I’m a challenge?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he answered simply.

  He could tell she processed that by the stunned flare in her eyes, but he couldn’t tell how she’d done it when she immediately pushed past it.

  “I’ve never been on a date. Not one. Not in my life.”

  “All right, honey, perhaps you should slow down.”

  She did not take his suggestion.

  “I’ve picked up men and fucked them, though not often. Before I met you, however, not rare. And they got the ride of their lives when that horny girl they thought was going to give them a sloppy, slutty good time tied their asses to their beds and used their cocks for her own purposes. Though they got off on that shit. Every.” She got closer to his face. “Last.” She got in his face. “One.”

  Stellan decided to stay silent and let her get it out.

  She moved away but only as far as his hold would let her go.

  “It wasn’t until Aryas read it in me and explained it to me that I knew what it was. I always thought I was a freak.”

  He couldn’t let that pass without comment
.

  “You’re not a freak.”

  “Did Aryas tell you about me?” she asked.

  He felt his brows draw together. “Tell me what about you?”

  “That when I subbed for him in training, I subbed for him. Was it him who told Dillinger who told you?”

  “No, darling,’ he said calmingly. “Dillinger shared Aryas trained you. I guessed that part.”

  She seemed to deflate, like thinking Aryas had betrayed her had blown her up to the point her skin was a fragile membrane that couldn’t hold the pain and was about to explode.

  “He didn’t betray your confidence,” Stellan further assured. “I see how you are with him, and I know you trained under him. There’s a slight deference you give to him that you don’t give anyone else. It’s independent of the feelings you have for him. It’s indicative of you having history of submitting to him, and not just because you did that in training. Even so, it was still a guess.”

  She turned her head to look away.

  “I know you’re damaged, Simone,” he said gently, carefully. “And if you think that’s a turnoff, I can assure you it isn’t.”

  She looked back to him and announced, “I’m not damaged, Stellan. I’m a mess.”

  “I believe those are not mutually exclusive,” he murmured.

  “You’re wrong. Because damage can be fixed. A mess is just a mess.”

  “A mess can be sorted out.”

  “Not my kind of mess.”

  “You’re very wrong.”

  “God, Stellan!” she shouted suddenly, shocking him with her outburst to the point his body went solid all around her and his hold on her increased. “Don’t you see I’m trying to protect you?”

  “From what?” he asked, his voice lowering, his patience bleeding, and he was trying, but failing, to stem the flow.

  “Me, you big idiot,” she snapped.

  “And shall I return the favor?” he asked.

  The frustration ebbed out quickly as her expression grew confused. “What?”

  “Shall I protect you from me?”

  “What is there to protect me from?”

  “Well, I don’t know, darling. Perhaps the fact I live in terror that some hint of my father will slither from somewhere deep inside me, and I’ll find out that the vast effort I’ve expended since I could form a coherent thought not to be one thing like him would all be for naught? Or perhaps I should share the delightful memory of walking into the garage to find my sister in my running car, looking asleep but being very dead.”