Mary Janice Davidson, Michele Bardsley, Chris Tanglen - Lighthearted Lust (Ellora's Cave)

by james

  “You taste sweet.” His eyes were dark, darker than midnight. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I like it when you ride me. When you fuck me. Fuck me, Kira. Harder.”

  She increased her movements, sliding up and down his cock. His mouth found a nipple through the thin cotton of her bra and his finger slid over her clit. She moaned at the sensations rocketing through her. Another orgasm rose, crested, and shattered her.

  She collapsed on top of him and smiled when his arms wrapped around her. “Smenkare,” she said against his smooth chest. “No means no.”

  “Of course, my princess.”

  He grasped her arms and tugged her off, then put her on the floor on her side. Kira propped herself on one elbow and watched him. She’d had two orgasms and she was still horny as hell.

  Smenkare got on his knees and opened her legs like a pair of human scissors.

  “Hey! I’m not a wishbone.”

  His grin promise wicked delights so she shut up.

  He placed one of her legs between his, and put the other on his shoulder. Holding her ankle with one hand, he scooted closer until his penis slid achingly slow into her pussy. His eyes closed and his jaw clenched. Then he opened his eyes and looked at her. “Put your hand on your pussy.”

  “I’m using to hold up my head.”

  He rolled his eyes. “The other one.”

  She slid her hand over her belly and into the soft nest of curls. Her finger rubbed her sensitive clit. Whoa.

  “Stroke it,” demanded Smenkare.

  She moved her finger against her clit, sliding it through the wetness, caressing the sensitive nub. Smenkare entered her, shuddering at the contact. The next strokes were fast, deep. As his pace increased, so did Kira’s pleasuring of her clit. She closed her eyes and rubbed her whole hand along it, matching the rhythm of her lover’s thrusts. Oh God. She was already close. So close…

  “I’m going to come,” she moaned.

  Smenkare’s thrusts quickened. She heard his gasps, felt the grip of his hand on her leg, then she came, shattering against her own hand, her vagina pulsing around his penis.

  “Kira!” he yelled. Then she felt the jerking of his cock inside her as he

  emptied his seed into her.

  Kira collapsed to the floor, so sexually sated she could die happy.

  Or at least go into a sex-induced coma.

  Her arms ached; one from holding her head up and the other from its pussy­rubbing workout. Smenkare grabbed a hand towel from the cabinet and handed it to her. As she wiped herself off, she looked at the man who’d brought her so much joy in the last couple of days.

  Her heart lodged in her throat.

  She didn’t want to waste a single second with him. She had less than a month. She’d make every day count. Every moment. Even if it meant she was doing the unthinkable: Falling in love with a man who would leave her.

  “I have two things to say.” She handed him the towel so he could clean

  himself. “First, you’re coming with me to work.”

  He smiled. “And the second?”

  “I gotta get a carpet for my bathroom floor.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Hello, Nanette,” said Kira as they breezed into the lobby of Marketing For Morons’ office building. “This is my friend Kare.”

  “Karey?” asked Big-Boobs-No-Brain.

  “Kare. It’s pronounced like a car with an ‘e’ on the end of it,” corrected Kira. She glanced at “Kare.” He looked terrific in a brown knit shirt, tan Dockers, and dark-brown loafers. His hair was bound with a leather strap. He’d wanted to use her eyeliner and blue eye shadow—to block the sun’s rays, he said—but she forbid him to look like a drag queen and bought him a pair of sunglasses instead. He refused underwear saying he did not like the way the boxer shorts bound him. He wanted unrestricted movement. She had to admit she liked the idea of him walking around without anything on under those Dockers.

  Nanette rose from the receptionist desk and took Smenkare’s outstretched hand. “Sounds so exotic, Kare. You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “I am Egyptian,” said Kare. He extracted his hand from her talons. “How do you do, Miss Nanette?”

  The ninny giggled and blushed. Kira resisted the urge to poke out her eyes. She was so beautiful and so vapid and so goddamned annoying. “We gotta go. I’m going to make this a half-day, Nanette, so please make a note of that.”

  Nanette’s blue-eyed gaze reluctantly left Kare’s face to focus on Kira.

  “Why?”

  “In case I get messages.”

  “What messages? No one ever calls you.”

  “I meant business messages.”

  The blonde blinked then tilted her head. “You don’t have any clients. You’re just an assistant.” She put a hand to her mouth as if she’d given away a secret and turned to Kare. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you tell your friend you were a vice president or something? I didn’t mean to ruin your story.”

  Yeah, right. Kira gritted her teeth. What she wouldn’t give to tell Nanette that Smenkare was her sex slave and that he had fucked her sideways on the bathroom floor this morning and that he was required to do anything she asked—including bitch-slapping nosy fake-blonde receptionists.

  “Kira does not have to lie to impress me,” said Smenkare in a soft voice. “I do not like her because of what she does at work.” He threaded his fingers through Kira’s and kissed the tips. His gaze heated her to the core.

  “We ran out of condoms this morning,” he whispered a little too loudly as he nuzzled her neck. “We should buy a bigger box, my love.”

  “Who knew we could go through a six-pack in one night?” Kira smiled at Nanette, whose look of surprise was interrupted by a flash of envy. She kissed Smenkare on the cheek. “Wait for me by the elevators, okay?”

  He nodded and left her alone with Nanette. Kira picked up a stapler and turned it around in her hands. “He’s exhausting, you know, but the best I’ve ever had.” Kira put down the stapler on the wrong side of the desk and leaned forward until she had Nanette’s complete attention. “Much better than Todd.”

  Nanette’s gasp of outrage soothed Kira’s pride, but not her guilty conscience. If the receptionist hadn’t known about Todd sleeping his way around the office, she did now. Kira was glad Nanette knew the truth about the jerk, yet she shouldn’t have told her in such a mean-spirited manner.

  “Nanette, I’m so—”

  “Just leave,” she hissed, sitting back down at the desk and returning the stapler to its rightful place. “You don’t have to lie about sleeping with Todd.” Nanette’s tight smile turned catty. “Or with him. What did you do, Kira? Hire a guy from a local strip club to impress your co-workers?”

  Her mouth dropped open in shock. She couldn’t find a single word to utter and she knew she looked like a gaping fish. Nanette’s look of satisfaction stung, but not nearly as much as her words. Did the people she worked with really believe she’d hire someone to play her boyfriend? That she was so deficient in mind and body she couldn’t find a decent, good-looking guy on her own?

  It hurt to think that they were right. After all, hadn’t she gone to The Lust Bastion because she’d been unable to find a man who not only wanted to satisfy her, but who wanted stick around longer than it took to get dressed?

  “Everyone knows that male strippers are gay.” Nanette took a tube from her desk drawer and refreshed her lipstick. It was deep, shiny red—the color of blood. “And everyone around here knows that you’re…” Nanette’s pitying stare was ruined by the calculating look in her cold blue eyes. “…well, sweetie, that you’re a loser in the bedroom department.” Her gaze dipped to Kira’s clothes. “Not to mention fashion-challenged.”

  Red-hot fury flashed through Kira, but it fizzled into blind hurt. She felt as though someone had stabbed her through the chest and twisted the knife. Straightening her new and fashionable—thank you very much—black jacket that matched her flared-at-the-knee sk
irt, she turned away from the desk and marched toward the elevators. Nanette’s laughter followed her, clawing at her

  insides until she thought she’d scream.

  Or cry.

  “What is wrong?”

  Kira shook her head and swallowed the tears of humiliation that threatened to fall. She blinked them back, willing them to disappear. She wasn’t a loser in the bedroom department. Just ask…Todd? The water guy? The computer nerd? The sex slave? She choked back ashamed laughter.

  “I’m not good in bed, am I?” she asked Smenkare. “I command you to answer honestly.”

  His brows rose. “What did Nanette say to you?”

  “Nothing. I’m just—I’m just being insecure. Never mind.”

  The elevator doors swished open. They entered the empty car. She pushed the number 5 button then readjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. Maybe she should have smacked Nanette in the head with her fashion-challenged Wal-Mart special and knocked that nasty little smile right off the blonde’s perfect face. Smenkare slanted her a concerned look, but she knew he just felt obligated to look concerned.

  The elevators were notoriously snail-paced. It took forever just to reach the second floor. She rolled her eyes at the car’s slow rise and tried to ignore Smenkare’s level stare.

  “Oh for Pete’s sake! What is it?” she asked in an exasperated voice.

  “You are muttering.”

  “I am not.”

  “Why do you want to smack Nanette with your purse?”

  Shit. She had been muttering. She sighed and turned toward him. “She said I have reputation for being a loser in the bedroom department. It’s not like I’ve slept with every guy in the place. I’ve only been with Todd and, believe me, he’s not that great in the sack. Why is it the guys who are bad lays tell everyone it’s the girl’s fault? Now I know why no one from work has ever asked me out. They think I’m bad in bed. You know, bad-bad, not bad-good. And that’s not true.” Kira took a deep breath. “Is it?”

  “Who is Todd?”

  “A guy who would have sex with anything that moves.”

  “And he works here?”

  Did she detect a smidgen of jealousy in his voice? No. Why would he care

  who she slept with? But if he did… Her heart stuttered. If only he could love her instead of just make love to her. She should have been more specific about what she really wanted—a lifetime relationship with a good man instead of a short­term fuck with a goddess’ play toy. She wanted to love Smenkare the way he deserved to be loved, but it would do no good to love a man who could not love her back. They would only hurt each other in the end.

  “When did you last sleep with this Todd?”

  “Smenkare, will you focus? I’m having self-esteem issues here. Where’s the reassurance about my bedroom prowess?”

  As the elevator inched toward the fourth floor, Smenkare smacked the big red emergency button. The car jerked to a stop and a loud, annoying bell clanged. He pinioned Kira to the wall, reached under her skirt, and jerked down her panties and hose. Loosened, they drifted past her knees. She wasted no time kicking off her heels and pushing the material from her legs. Smenkare unzipped his pants and placed his hard cock between her thighs.

  Her purse thunked to the floor.

  Her body trembled.

  Her heart rejoiced.

  “You are everything a man desires,” he whispered. “And more than any man deserves.”

  His hands coasted around to her buttocks. He grasped them and pulled her closer. She swallowed the knot in her throat. His obsidian gaze was so filled with

  want and need she lost her breath.

  “What do you want, my mistress?”

  His penis teased the edge of her cunt.

  “You.” Her arms crept up his shoulders. “I want you.”

  He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. When he entered her, she was wet and ready and aching, the way she always was with him. He pushed her against the elevator wall and plunged into her again and again. His teeth nipped her neck, his tongue traveled her neck, his lips found her earlobe. He whispered words only her heart understood.

  She teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Smenkare cried her name. His cock emptying his seed into her sent her flying over the edge.

  For a moment, they leaned against each other, panting and recovering. The bell rang shrilly and unceasingly, but Kira didn’t mind. It was worth the ear­shattering noise to have elevator sex.

  Smenkare slipped out of her. She silently handed him her torn panties to use as a wipe. After he was finished, he tucked his penis into his pants and her undies into his pocket. Then he helped her straighten her clothes.

  She showed him the ruined hose. “My last good pair,” she lamented and shoved them into her purse.

  Smenkare released the button and the elevator started moving again. The bell stopped shrieking and the sudden silence sounded weird. She rubbed her ears with her palms as if the gesture would somehow help the tinny ringing in her head.

  The smell of sex permeated the small car, which smelled a helluva lot better than the perfume some companies put into the air to cover the stench of humans

  and their bad habits. She breathed it in and smiled. Oh yeah. They should bottle it and call it Sex Of Smenkare.

  “Kira?”

  “Yes?”

  He tipped her chin so that she looked him in the eyes. “I ask a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “Do not ever speak the name of Todd again.”

  She blinked at the fierceness of his tone. “Why?”

  He slid his thumb along her jaw. He leaned close until his chocolate-brown eyes were even with hers. “Because you are mine.”

  Her pulse leapt. What was he saying? Was he telling her—no. He didn’t have the right to claim her. To love her. Especially not after three days.

  “I thought you were mine,” she teased, hoping to lighten his mood.

  “I am.” He hesitated. “I have claimed no other as my own, Kira. Not in three millennia have I chosen a queen.”

  “A queen?”

  He placed her palm against his heart. She felt it beating, strong and fast. “If I were still a prince of Egypt, I would share my throne with you and only you, my Kira.” He turned her palm up and kissed its center. “I can offer you no other gift than this pledge. You are my queen.”

  Before she could answer his unspoken question, the elevator doors opened.

  A security guard, maintenance man, her supervisor, Todd, and several co­workers, mostly males, waited. Everyone broke out into fervent applause— except for her boss, who looked pissed off, and for Todd, who looked like pouting two-year-old.

  “I’m guessing there’s nothing wrong with the elevator,” said the

  maintenance man, a sly grin on his face. “So I’ll be on my way.”

  He slipped past them as they exited the car.

  The guard’s expression was part embarrassment, part admiration. He, too,

  entered the elevator. Before the doors closed, he gave Smenkare a big smile and two thumbs up.

  “What’s going on?” asked Kira.

  “That’s what I’d like to know, Miss Maxwell,” answered Jerry, her boss. “Please come to my office.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest. Something was so wrong. Co-workers were thumping Smenkare on the shoulders and wiggling their eyebrows at Kira. One guy made a V with his fingers and stuck his tongue through it.

  Then she knew.

  She’d had sex in the elevator with Smenkare in front of a goddamned security camera. Every elevator had one.

  “People, that’s enough,” barked Jerry. “Go back to work while you still have jobs.”

  Everyone but Todd dispersed. Jerry marched down the hall to his office and Kira turned to follow. Todd grabbed her arm. “What the hell, Kira? You act like a cold fish with me, but you’ll fuck a gay stripper in the elevator?”

  Gay stripper? Had Nanette called Todd and told hi
m what Kira had said? Had she told him Kare was a gay stripper Kira had hired to pose as a boyfriend? Humiliation washed over her and she felt heat singe her cheeks. Her work place was tolerable. She didn’t have friendly chats at the water cooler or go to lunch with the girls. No one really socialized with her and she was beginning to suspect Todd and Nanette were why she’d always been treated as a pariah.

  Todd squeezed her shoulder to gain her attention and she winced.

  Smenkare plucked Todd’s hand from her and crushed his puny white fingers within his dark, strong hand. “Touch her again and I will disembowel you.”

  Todd’s Adam’s apple bobbled as he swallowed. “Let go of me, you prick.” The words would have had more force if his voice hadn’t sounded like a door squeaking. He cleared his throat. “Please.”

  Smenkare released the coward’s hand. “Do not talk to her again. Do not look

  at her again. Do not touch her again.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  Kira rolled her eyes. Todd the toddler. What had she ever seen in him? He’d never be good for a long-term relationship. The only person he’d ever care about was himself. Too bad it had taken her two lousy fucks to figure it out. Loneliness and desperation had made her accept less than she deserved. And it had only taken three days with beautiful, tender Smenkare to figure that out.

  “You may grovel to her. You may kiss the earth she walks upon. You may beg her forgiveness for being a worthless mongrel. But that is all.”

  “Fuck you.” Todd’s face turned red and his eyes bulged. “Kira and I are involved.”

  “No, you are not. She is mine.”

  Smenkare drew Kira away from the infant trapped in a man’s body and down the hall to the boss’ half-opened door. She asked Smenkare to wait outside. Given what her boss was about to tell her, she’d rather not have him threaten ancient Egyptian punishments to the man who signed her paychecks. She entered the office and closed the door behind her.