by Anthology
Despite being on her knees and seemingly at the mercy of the man standing above her, there was a power in having her fingers wrapped tight around her man’s cock. That power sent a surge of pleasure rushing through her, and she leaned forward, darting her tongue out to lick at the very tip of him.
He flinched, his lips parting as a low groan sounded from the back of his throat. She licked him again, circling the head, playing with the flared underside with her tongue. His jaw clenched tight.
Oh, this was fun. She released her hold on the base of his cock and licked him from root to tip, her tongue mapping every vein, covering every bit of skin, before she finally drew his cock between her lips and sucked just the head into her mouth.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand going to her hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he pushed them away from her face.
She looked up at him, her fingers going around the base once more as she drew him deeper into her mouth and then back out, curling her tongue around him, putting on a big show for her audience of one.
“Reagan.” His voice cracked and her pulse pounded hard, a throb low in her belly, directly between her legs. “Stop.”
Pulling him from her mouth with a gentle pop, she shook her head. “No.”
“Baby.” He sounded as if he was in complete agony and she loved it. She might be twisted, but he was the one who’d tortured her only moments ago. “Stop. I mean it. I’m going to come.”
“Maybe I want you to come,” she murmured as she pulled him back into her mouth, though no way did she really want him to come. Not yet. She knew when he’d get too close. His tells were obvious to her now and she planned on pushing him right to the very edge before she finally stopped. He’d be so overcome he’d have no choice but to fuck her, just as he promised.
His woman was making him fucking insane. Her mouth was a wonder and her tongue…good God, her tongue. The way she curled it around his dick, how she licked him all over, like he was a treat and she was starved. He lifted his head so he couldn’t watch her, needing the break because damn, she was hot and she was driving him out of his mind. But then he caught his reflection in the mirror.
His skin shone with a faint layer of sweat in the dim light. Agony etched across his features, his muscles standing out in stark relief, his dark-haired beauty kneeling before him, her head bobbing as she sucked his cock.
What a sight. What a fucking sight. He was an egotistical actor, for the love of God, so of course he got off on seeing himself doing something like this. But damn it, he didn’t want to be the only one watching.
He wanted Reagan to join in on the fun too.
And the girl had zero plans of letting up, from the looks of it. She was cupping his balls in her palm, massaging them, her fingers coming perilously close to that spot he’d only recently discovered with Reagan’s help. The spot where if she touched it—and she didn’t often, which made it that much more forbidden, that much more exciting—he’d shoot off like a rocket in her mouth and he would need long minutes to recover.
Fuck that. He liked it when she touched him there, but he had other plans tonight. She wasn’t responding to his demands that she stop, so he’d have to resort to different measures to end this particular form of torture.
He reached for her shoulders and she released his dick before he pulled her to her feet. Whirling her around, he made her face the dresser, her hands automatically going out to grip the edge. Her hair was a tangled mess about her head, her skin flushed pink, her breasts heaving with her labored breaths.
She was fucking stunning. And all his.
“Look at you.” He pushed her hair away from her shoulder and kissed the side of her neck, letting his mouth linger. Her expression grew heavy, her eyes smoldering as they stared at them in the mirror. “Fuck, baby, you look like every man’s dream come to life.”
Her swollen lips parted when he sank his teeth into the tender flesh at the base of her throat, and she licked her top lip, the sight of her tongue making his cock twitch against her lush ass. He pressed himself closer behind her, his arm going around her waist, reaching for her breast so he could tweak her nipple with his fingers.
She drew in a shuddery breath and he took one step backward, letting go of her so he could settle his hands on her hips, his fingers digging into her pliant skin. “Bend over,” he commanded, pleased when she didn’t protest.
Reagan leaned forward, her hands still braced on the edge of the dresser, her breasts swaying, her hair falling around her face. He reached for her again, brushing her hair away from her cheeks, needing to see her at the precise moment when he first entered her body.
He caressed her ass, his fingers light as they skimmed her plump flesh, and she spread her legs further, giving him more room. His hand moved lower, testing her folds, a groan escaping him when he found his girl was dripping wet.
Taking hold of his cock, he guided himself inside her. Slowly. Carefully. He slipped in, her juices making it easy, and he didn’t know where to concentrate first. At the point where he watched his cock disappear inside her welcoming body or at the mirror’s reflection, so he could watch her pretty face as it contorted with pleasure?
He did his damnedest to enjoy both views, because they were both amazing. She was so expressive, every flinch and twitch that passed across her face when he was touching her most pleasurable points. He dragged his dick slowly back out of her, the friction nearly making his eyes cross, the wet heat of her pussy squeezing around him, making him want to pump harder. Faster. Until all he could focus on was achieving orgasm and nothing else.
“More,” she gasped when he thrust extra deep, making her gasp and him moan. “Please, Declan.”
Tangling his fingers into her hair, he pulled tight, his other hand wrapped around her hip as he established a rhythm that had them both swaying. He kept his gaze locked on the point of entry, grunting with his every thrust, feeling like a goddamn caveman who was taking his woman in the most primal way possible.
She called his name again, drawing his attention back to the mirror, and he watched in fascination at her reflection. Her eyes were closed, her expression strained, his hand still in her hair. She tilted her head back, the elegant expanse of her neck on blatant display, her breasts jiggling as he slammed into her again and again.
Her eyes popped open and she stared at him, her lips parted, a whispered please sounding from deep inside her chest. He fucked her harder, not wanting to stop, needing to see her fall apart because he knew he was close. So damn close he was going to blow, he was going to come, and holy shit, she hadn’t come yet and he needed to rectify that right fucking now…
“Oh God.” Her hands slipped off the edge of the dresser and she fell onto her elbows, bracing her upper body on the solid piece of furniture. Her newfound position sent him even deeper inside her pussy, and he let go of her hair, gripped both of her hips now, fucking her relentlessly. Their sweat-covered skin slapped together, a hard, steady beat that drove him on.
A strangled yes fell from her lips and then she was coming, her entire body shaking with the force of it, her inner walls clenching around his cock in a pleasurably painful squeeze over and over, milking him until he was coming too, his semen flooding her body. He shouted with relief, his hands gripping her hips so tight he was sure he’d leave bruises, and for a brief moment he felt remorse.
Then figured she’d be so blissed out from the incredible orgasm they just shared, she probably wouldn’t even care.
Chapter Six
Three weeks later…
“You are positively glowing.”
Reagan slid into the booth next to Andrea and rolled her eyes, dropping her bag in between them. “I am not.”
“Are too,” Natalie said, pointing at her, her gaze narrowed. Little Natalie missed nothing. “Please tell me he just banged you before you left the house so I can live vicariously through you.”
“Um...” Her voice drifted, too embarrassed to admit that her friend was right.
Why, she wasn’t sure, since she’d become best friends with both Andrea and Natalie in nursing school and they shared pretty much everything about their lives with each other. They’d grown extremely close in a rapid amount of time and remained best friends now, though they didn’t get to see each other as much.
Their work schedules didn’t allow it. Well, that and the fact that the three of them went for a girls-only weekend in Vegas eight months ago and came back with outrageous tales of meeting—and doing repeatedly—extremely famous men.
Men they were all still seeing, as a matter of fact.
“Come on, just admit it,” Natalie said, shaking her head as she took a sip of her margarita. She made a face, her eyes narrowed. “Now that’s a strong drink. All I can taste is the alcohol.”
“Scary,” Andrea said with a shudder, though that didn’t stop her from sipping from her giant glass. “Tequila and I don’t party well together.”
“We’re not in this to get drunk tonight.” Reagan paused as she studied her friends. They’d all managed to have a night off at the same time, which was some sort of freaky miracle. “Are we?”
“I don’t know about you, but I need to relax. Work has been extra busy and Noah’s on tour.” Natalie’s boyfriend was the lead singer of the rock band Wilde & Wicked. Talk about opposites attracting. Reagan still found it amazing the two were together—and were so incredibly into each other. She would’ve never picked a guy like Noah Wilde for Natalie. “I miss him. The only thing that makes it better is alcohol and my vibrator.”
Reagan nearly choked on her mouthful of margarita. Wow. Considering when Reagan first met Natalie she’d been a somewhat uptight semi-prude who’d done nothing sexually adventurous her entire adult life, being with Noah had certainly loosened her up.
“Tell me about it,” Andrea muttered, taking a healthy sip of her margarita. “I haven’t seen Luke in two weeks.” He played football for the Seattle Seahawks and they were currently dealing with a long-distance relationship. No matter how much Luke begged her to move to Seattle with him, she wouldn’t do it. She loved her job too much.
Reagan thought she was crazy. Couldn’t imagine living in a different city than Declan. Bad enough he was leaving her tomorrow to go work on a movie…
And why were they apart on his last night in L.A. again? Oh right, because she already had plans and didn’t want to ditch her friends.
What in the world was she thinking? She missed Declan already. Surely her friends would understand when she cut tonight short.
“So is that why you were late? Because you were banging your man and couldn’t be bothered to leave on time?” Natalie asked pointedly.
Reagan laughed and shook her head, reaching for the basket of chips in the center of the table. They were at a Mexican restaurant and she was seriously craving some salsa. She decided to change the subject quickly. “Did I tell you guys what’s going on? He leaves first thing tomorrow to start shooting a new film.”
“Ooh, look, she said film instead of movie,” Andrea teased. “She’s become so Hollywood since she hooked up with Declan.”
“Whatever,” Reagan said, shoving a chip loaded with salsa into her mouth. She knew they were kidding. They all gave each other grief. It was that or sit around dumbfounded over the fact that the men in their lives were so freaking gorgeous and famous that they all wondered what the hell they did to nail such amazing guys.
“How long is Declan going to be gone?” Andrea asked.
Reagan swallowed and answered, “Four weeks, possibly six. It’s a long shoot. Big movie, adapted from a popular book.” Huge role. He couldn’t say no and she wouldn’t let him say no. It was a commercial film, one guaranteed to bring in lots of buzz and ticket sales and help him become even more well known. He was excited and so was she.
Even though she’d miss him terribly and secretly didn’t want him to leave.
“Where’s he going?” Natalie asked.
“Canada.”
Natalie made a face. “That’s far.”
Andrea’s gaze bounced between the both of them before she finally blurted out. “I’m moving to Seattle.”
“What?” Reagan asked incredulously, Natalie gasping in disbelief.
Andrea nodded, her gaze full of worry. “Tell me it’s a stupid move.”
“It’s definitely not a stupid move,” Natalie said, shaking her head. “This is a great thing. A positive thing. You and Luke are made for each other. I’m thrilled for you.”
“So am I,” Reagan added, offering Andrea a smile.
“It just feels so…fast.” Andrea reached for her drink and took another huge gulp. She closed her eyes as she swallowed, shaking her head before her eyes popped back open. “He’s been so patient with me when I kept putting it off. I wasn’t ready to move. It felt like such a commitment, all the change on me, you know? His life remains the same, but I’m the one who has to quit my job, pack up my apartment and leave the only area I’ve ever really known. I even told him I’d get my own place at one point and he flipped the hell out.”
“Why did he flip out?” Reagan asked.
“Because he said if I was living in the same city as he was, then he wanted to have me sleep in his bed every night.” Andrea’s cheeks colored. “I have to admit, I thought that was sweet.”
“It is sweet,” Natalie said. “Sickeningly sweet, but that’s how you two roll, so I’m not surprised.”
“He wants to marry me,” Andrea admitted. “He said he wants to take me ring shopping.”
“So he’s already asked you?” Reagan was incredulous all over again. And the teeniest, tiniest bit envious too. Luke hadn’t shied away from his feelings for Andrea from the first moment he met her. He knew what he wanted and went after it, no holds barred.
“Yeah.” Andrea nodded, a little smile curling her lips. “And I said yes. That’s why I’m moving. I gave my notice to the hospital and put in the thirty-day notice on my apartment. I’m out of here in less than a month.”
Reagan couldn’t believe it. Her friend was moving away for good…so she could go live with a gorgeous, hunky football player and eventually marry him. Talk about a fairy tale. No one deserved a happily ever after more than Andrea.
“This is the best news ever,” she said, her voice soft, her emotions all over the place. “I’m so happy for you.”
She was. She really was. But she felt sad too. Like she was losing her friend for good.
“You don’t sound very happy,” Andrea pointed out, her gaze going to Natalie, who sat across from them. Reagan looked at Natalie too, noticing that her expression pretty much looked like how Reagan felt. Sad. Conflicted. Trying her best to appear enthusiastic. “You don’t look very happy either.”
“I’m sad that you’re leaving, that’s all,” Natalie said with a little sniff, reaching for her margarita glass so she could drain it. “I need another one.”
“Oh my God, you probably don’t, but yeah, we may as well order another round for all of us,” Reagan suggested, turning around in the hope that she could catch the eye of a server.
Two hours later and they were drunk. As drunk as she’d ever been in a long, long time. Andrea kept complaining about tequila, calling it tee-kill-ya. Natalie’s vocabulary became more and more colorful as the night wore on, until Reagan figured she was dropping an f-bomb every two words or so.
And Reagan? She sat quietly munching on the plate of nachos they’d ordered, her phone clutched in her right hand as she waited for her man to reply to her text.
That she sent twenty minutes ago.
“Stop pouting and have another drink!” Natalie pounded on the edge of the table and Andrea reached out, setting her hand over Natalie’s fist, stopping her.
“That is soooo loud,” Andrea said before she fell into Reagan’s side in a fit of giggles. “I’d bet good money that’s what our heads are going to be doing tomorrow morning.”
“What, pounding? No way.” Natalie shook her head, looking confident. �
��I won’t have a hangover.”
“Please. You’re not immune,” Reagan said just before she snuck another glance at her very black, very quiet cell phone screen.
“He still hasn’t answered you?” Andrea asked quietly.
Reagan shook her head. “Nope.”
“Maybe he’s busy.”
“I don’t know.” Reagan shrugged. “It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday night. What could he be doing?”
The pointed look Andrea gave her made unease settle heavily in Reagan’s stomach.
“He wouldn’t cheat on me,” Reagan said hurriedly, grabbing her glass only to find it empty. She pushed it away in disappointment. “I should have another.”
“No. Absolutely not.” Andrea shook her head. “What you should do is try your best to gain your boyfriend’s attention.”
“How? I refuse to call him. I don’t want to be the nagging girlfriend.”
She glanced up to see Natalie happily answering her ringing phone with a high-pitched, “Hey baby.”
Noah, no doubt.
“We’re not going to call him. We’re—well, you—are going to do something even better.” Andrea shoved at her shoulder. “Take your purse and phone and let’s go to the ladies’ room.”
Reagan did as her friend asked, both of them gesturing at Natalie that they would be right back, but she hardly paid them any mind. Her calls with the busy Noah were few and far between, so she’d focus all of her attention on him while they were doing God knows what.
And she was really curious to see what Andrea’s plan was.
“Okay.” Andrea locked the door and turned to face her, her gaze going to Reagan’s chest. “What do you have on under there?” She gestured at Reagan’s shirt.
“Uh, a bra?” Reagan glanced down at her simple black button-up shirt.
“I meant, what does your bra look like? Nude and boring? Or lacy and sexy?”
“Why? Are you telling me you like to swing both ways now or what?” Reagan giggled. Clearly she was drunk. Or losing her mind. Maybe a combination of both.