Misconduct (Hot Ice series Book 6)

by Lily Harlem

  He cut me off with another one of his lethally slow, seductive kisses that made cognitive thought a thing of the past. Screw it, he could call my breasts puppies every day of the week if it meant I could have this sensation.

  He massaged and squeezed, getting it just right and catching my nipples between his fingers, pulling, stretching, the exact amount to make me groan into his mouth.

  “I need you on the bed,” he murmured against my cheek. “Be there naked by the time I get back.”

  He left me and stalked from the room. I missed his body heat and his touch, and stared at the space he’d just inhabited.

  “Naked,” I murmured. “I can do that.”

  It only took a second to strip off my little bikini bottoms and I kicked them away and crawled onto the plus-sized bed. I’d never slept in this guest room at the front of the house. The furniture was mainly wicker, the headboard made of bamboo slats. There was a large potted plant near the window and the curtains were white with a leaf pattern similar to the real plant.

  I stretched out flat on my back, pointed my toes and raised my arms, pushing them over my head and arching my spine feline style. The sheets were silky and cool, the pillow deep. I could just make out Dustin’s cologne on the slip.

  “Mmm, perfect.” Dustin was back at the door. “You look ready for a damn good seeing to, sweet cheeks.”

  I grinned and relaxed my posture. It no longer bothered me, sweet cheeks, especially when he said it with such a sinful glint in his eyes and with such a tenting in his trunks.

  He walked to the bedside table and set down a glass containing ice cubes. “Just so we’re clear,” he said. “Are we using condoms for this?”

  “No, no, I…”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I will if that’s better for you.”

  “No, I want to feel you, your dick, flesh against flesh.”

  He half smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that, but thought it best not to be presumptuous.”

  “Because that wouldn’t be in your nature at all, would it?”

  “Sassy minx,” he said, opening the bedside drawer. “You’ll pay for that.”

  “I hope so.”

  He pulled out a handful of silk scarves, various pastel colors.

  “What are they for?” I asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  “Are they yours?”

  “No, I found them last night when I was looking for something to read.”

  “Oh.” I wondered if they were Giselle’s, but more likely just forgotten by one of Mom and Dad’s guests over the years.

  “They gave me an idea,” Dustin said. “As soon as I saw them, just one of the fantasies I told you about.” He climbed onto the bed and straddled my chest with his legs.

  His shorts were damp on my body, his legs as solid as trunks against my ribs.

  “Keep your hands up, like that,” he said, sliding a pale lemony scarf beneath my wrists.

  “What are you doing?” I had a pretty good idea, but still, I liked hearing his voice when it was dripping with lust and rough with determination.

  “Tying you down. You’ll be glad I did.” His gaze caught mine. “Can you cope with that?”

  “Yes, I trust you.”

  “Really?” He acted surprised.

  “Yes.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

  I jerked a little as he tightened a knot that secured my arms above my head. I twisted and glanced up, saw that he’d threaded the scarf through one of the bamboo slats.

  “They’re only made for this,” he said, “these headboards. Not exactly comfortable to rest back on, only good for tying sexy ladies exactly where a guy wants them.” He tipped forward and kissed me. “Close your eyes.”

  Heart racing, I did as he’d asked. Soft material pressed down over my face. I was sure it would be taking away my vision if I were to open my eyes. But I didn’t, I kept them shut, happy to fall into a world that relied on my other senses.

  He was breathing hard, obviously excited. He smelled of the sea and of man, salty and fresh, a little of hot flesh too.

  Another kiss pressed against my lips and I drank in his flavor, wondering in that moment if I would ever get enough of this badass player of mine. He could become addictive.

  He broke the kiss and his weight lifted. I tried to follow what he was doing and moved my head, straining for any clue.

  There was a clink of ice on glass, then he scooped my right breast into his hand. A sudden chill on my erect nipple had me catching my breath. The cold seemed to dart right to the center of my chest. I wanted more, but at the same time it was too much.

  He lifted it away and then the suckling heat of his mouth caressed my taut nipple. But only for a second because then the ice was back, circling around my twisted stalk. The weight in my breast felt as though it had increased. I moaned a little, then bit my bottom lip.

  “So sexy,” he murmured, switching to the other breast. “You’re so responsive to ice.”

  “Figures,” I gasped as he tweaked my nipple and then rubbed the cube over it.

  He set his mouth over the cold flesh. I tried to reach his head, urge him on, stroke his hair, but as soon as I tried I remembered my harnessed wrists. I jerked my shoulders but moved nowhere.

  He chuckled. “Oh, frustration so soon.”

  “No, I…I wanted to touch you.”

  “You’ll get your chance. Right now this is all about me touching you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I was tied to Dustin “Speed” Reed’s bed, naked and desperate for him. This was all about him touching me, so he’d just said. My pussy was damp, my internal muscles contracting around nothing and my belly was coiled with anticipation.

  What girl wouldn’t be feeling like a loaded spring?

  He slid the ice cube all around my breasts, not just the nipples but also the outer curves, my sternum and the heavier side slopes, tracing patterns, figures of eight and spirals.

  I was hot and cold at the same time. My flesh was goose bumps and hypersensitive. He’d made my breasts his main focus, the area of my anatomy most turned-on.

  I writhed and arched for his touch, lost in my own dark world and focusing on him.

  I heard a crunch and then his cool lips touched mine. He’d eaten the cube that had slipped over my flesh and then fed me the lingering watery flavor.

  “Ready for more?” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  Again the chink of ice and then my navel chilled. He kissed my breasts as he made a slippery snaking trail of cold across my belly to my hips and then back to the indent of my stomach.

  I tugged at the silk around my wrists, wanting more, needing him to take this thing lower.

  He huffed a little, as though sensing my frustration. “Getting impatient?”

  “No, I…” My words trailed off as he eased the cube into the thin strip of hair above my slit. “Yes.”

  “I’m a generous guy,” he said, “when it comes to pleasure.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  The ice touched my clit. Not briefly, but a hard, solid pressure.

  “Oh God,” I moaned, tipping my hips up and then away. “Dustin.”

  “I’m gonna make this sweet little go-button of yours deliciously cold and then so burning hot you’ll think you’re on fire.”

  Even though I’d wriggled he’d held the ice in place. He’d shuffled downward too, between my legs, shoving at my inner thighs with his elbows until I was spread open, the tendons in my hips aching the sweetest amount.

  “So pretty,” he said. “You should see yourself.”

  I squirmed and canted my hips, ready for the ice to move.

  He took the hint, set it on a ride down through my folds, every crease and crevice becoming moist and cool. It was like no other sensation I’d ever felt before.

  He tucked the ice into the first dip of my entrance and placed his lips over my clit, then sucked long and hard.

&nbs
p; Now I was glad to be tied down. I’d have hit the ceiling, I was sure. The heat of his mouth pulling me in was like a wild injection of lust into my veins. Hot and cold combined and made me shiver and jerk, thrust my hips for more, pull back because of the burning pressure.

  He forced my legs down, stretching me wide, and flicked my clit within the suction of his mouth.

  “Oh, oh, oh…” I managed and then squeezed my lips tight together. I was spinning, lost in what he was doing.

  His fingers were busy again. Moving that cube around, touching it to the smooth patch of skin between my pussy and my anus.

  An orgasm was beckoning. The pressure was building into a deep, profound climax that was getting ready to detonate.

  I didn’t know where the ice cube was now. It was just his fingers and his mouth on me. Where he’d learned to work a clit with such skill I had no idea. I wasn’t even sure what he was doing, all I did know was that I didn’t want him to stop. It was too damn good.

  A sudden filling in my pussy tipped me nearer to the edge of bliss. My stomach was tight and my chest heaving. I wasn’t sure how much more my spine could bow.

  It was there, the topple into ecstasy was inevitable.

  I clenched my fists, held my breath and let pleasure rip through my body, giving into it absolutely. He stayed with me, finger-fucking me, drawing my clit into his mouth, rippling his tongue over it as it pulsed. He was pressing on my mound too, and that seemed to capture my orgasm, hold it there, extend the mind-shattering, consuming delight.

  “Oh, oh, fuck, yes,” I cried, thrashing my head from side to side. “Fuck, keep going.”

  I was dizzy, everything felt surreal. I wrapped my legs around his back and banged my heels against his torso.

  My pussy was throbbing, clamping his fingers. I could feel and hear the moisture weeping from me. It felt as though every muscle in my pelvis was thumping, pounding, my asshole contracted, my inner thighs were tense against his shoulders.

  “Ah, ah…” I panted. “I need… Fuck… Dustin… Stop.” I was losing myself. That was it. The sensations were so powerful my body had to have a reprieve.

  He lifted up, releasing my clit but keeping his fingers wedged high. I tried to look at him but of course my world was dark behind the silky scarf.

  “You come so beautifully,” he said. “Who would have thought my uptight boss lady could be so wanton?”

  “Only…wanton…because of what…you’re doing,” I managed.

  He chuckled and stroked his thumb over my clit.

  A full body tremor shook its way through my torso and limbs. “Oh God,” I groaned.

  Suddenly his face was over mine. I could smell myself on his breath and feel his heat on my lips and cheeks.

  “If only you could see yourself,” he whispered. “You look amazing, a truly beautiful, trusting, giving woman allowing herself to be pleasured by a man who adores her. How does it feel to have given yourself up so totally?”

  “It…it feels amazing,” I said, lifting my face for a kiss.

  He gave it. Still massaging my pussy, he licked over my mouth, my teeth and then tangled his tongue with mine.

  I groaned, it was completely uninhibited and I reveled in feeling so comfortable with him that my basic instincts could surface unimpeded.

  Eventually he pulled from my pussy.

  I was hot, wet, sweaty and panting, and when he tugged at the blindfold I blinked in the harsh light of the room. I’d been lost in my black world, had folded in on myself, shrunk into a mass of sensation and been swept along on a whirlwind of desire, desire that had been stoked and fed by Dustin.

  He grinned down at me. His pupils were wide, his lips damp and his cheeks held a red flush. “You okay?”

  “Never better.”

  He grinned in a way that held more than a smidgen of male pride. But that was okay, he should be proud, that was one hell of a way to make a girl come.

  He reached for the binds on my wrists, carefully unraveled them and freed my arms.

  “Come here,” he said, rolling onto his side and pulling me close. “I think you need to get your breath back for a minute.”

  I happily snuggled into his wide chest and let him envelop me in his thickly roped biceps. He smelled hot and musky and his cock prodded against me.

  “But you haven’t…”

  “Shh,” he whispered, stroking my hair. “We have all day. Enjoy this moment. Let your body flop.”

  I sighed, pressed my thighs together and was rewarded with a lingering and pleasurable pulse of orgasm. He was right, we had all day and all night until the real world started calling us back to earth.

  Until then…

  *

  I must have drifted off because when I woke I was alone. I stretched out my arms and faced the open bedroom door.

  A tap was running in the kitchen. It flicked off and there was the slap of big bare feet on the wooden floor.

  Dustin appeared holding two slim glasses of water.

  “I thought you’d be thirsty,” he said, walking naked into the room, stopping by the bed and gulping from one of the glasses.

  His cock was still rigid, the head almost touched his bellybutton and it was mauve with arousal.

  “I am thirsty,” I said, propping onto my elbows and licking my lips, “and it seems you’re in need of something else too.”

  He smiled and passed me a glass. “I’m a patient man.”

  “Mmm, I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Well, to a certain degree anyway. Every guy has a snapping point.”

  I took a sip of water and then placed the tumbler on the bedside cabinet. As I did so the scarves fell to the floor in a slippery, silky slide. I looked at them, tangled and pale on the dark floor and then eyed the three-drawer cabinet.

  “I wonder what else is in here?” I said, grabbing the second handle down. “More things we can play with.” I giggled.

  He shrugged. “Dunno, take a look.”

  The second drawer held a map of the island and a ferry timetable. I quickly shut it. Boring.

  The next drawer wouldn’t budge. I tugged harder, almost toppling off the bed in my eagerness.

  “Here,” Dustin said, bending double. “Let me.”

  He pulled, hard, there was a snapping sound and it flew open, almost off its runners, leaving the shocking contents no place to hide.

  We were both silent for several seconds, then Dustin spoke. “Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting.”

  “No,” I agreed. “And who the hell does it belong to? Why is it here?”

  “Fuck knows, seems a lot of people borrow this place. But look, it’s brand new, it still has a price tag on.” Dustin lifted the black harness out of the drawer. The long, black cock attached to it came too, hanging heavily from a smooth leather pad that resembled the front of a pair of panties.

  He held it up and the tip of the cock dangled near my face. It was remarkably detailed with a flared head and a groove where the opening on the tip would be.

  “I didn’t know Dad had any lesbian friends,” I said. “That’ll be who the scarves belong to as well.”

  Dustin laughed, a great big guffaw. “Lesbians?”

  I scowled. “Yes, that’s who must own this.” I pointed at the strap-on and scooted backward onto the bed, against the cushions. “Because they haven’t got a dick to play with.”

  “It’s not just lesbians who use these,” Dustin said, gripping the silicone cock in his fist.

  I watched his fingers curling around the shaft and then glanced at his real cock, still engorged and ready for action. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…” He formed a circle with his thumb and index finger and ran it to the root of the dildo then back to the tip as if jerking it off. “Couples use these… Male and female couples.”

  “Oh.” My mind whirred. I’d never really thought about it.

  “Yeah,” he said. “It can make things a whole lot hotter.”

  There was some
thing about the carnal tilt to his lips and the narrowing of his eyes that told me Dustin thought strap-on play was off-the-scale boiling. I studied the dildo harness again, wondering if it would fit him if he wanted to penetrate me in two holes at once. I wasn’t averse to some rear entry fun, but it looked like a small width on the hips and really a bit too delicate for his big body.

  “I don’t think it will fit,” I said, “even if you did want to put it on.” I swallowed tightly, wondering at what was being left unsaid between us. Did I want him to double penetrate me? If he did that would be a first for me. Could I do it? Take that and him?

  “Me put it on?” He tipped his head to the side and tugged on his bottom lip. I got the feeling he wanted to say more but was stopping himself.

  Which was just as well, a spill of thoughts were avalanching in my brain. Eventually I asked, “You want me to wear it?”

  He set it on the bed, sat down next to it and took my hand. “You look shocked that I could suggest such a thing.”

  “Well, a little…”

  He tugged me forward and touched my fingers to his hot cock. “Feel how much I want you,” he said, his voice low and a little gruff. “I want every bit of you, everything you can give me, while we are here, now, in the present and the rest of the world has faded away. This is our moment, you belong to me and I belong to you.”

  My heart rate picked up another level as I wrapped my fist around his erection. His shaft was solid and hot, the dead-straight veins engorged and pulsing against my palm. He was right, the rest of the world had faded away.

  “I can feel,” I whispered, “how much you need to come.”

  He groaned and his eyes rolled slightly. “God, you touching me might have that happening within seconds. You’re so damn sexy.”

  “But you want more than just my hand.”

  His eyes came back into focus and he set his attention on me.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Tell me what you want. How do you want to come?” It was only fair. He’d just given me a top-rate orgasm.

  “Will you wear it?” he asked quietly. “The strap-on.”

  “And then what?” I knew what, I just wondered if he’d say it in plain English. If he didn’t, that was okay too, because there was something seriously sexy about the undercurrents swirling within our words.