Her mouth opened wider, taking him deeper inside, then she pulled away, breathless. Slowly, she ran the tip of her tongue across his bottom lip. His stomach tightened with desire, his body vibrated with lust, and he knew, soon, he wouldn’t be able to stop this talented seductress.
Her hand coiled around his cock and squeezed, and electric shocks raced up his groin. He growled and leaned into her touch, rocking his hips back and forth, revelling in the delicious feeling of friction from the fabric sliding across his tight, swollen skin.
Tugging her head to the side, Omar tasted her warm, salty skin. He nibbled her neck and licked a trickle of sweat away, enjoying the little moan it elicited from her. She tasted so good. She was so alive in his arms, responsive. His hand drifted to her heavy, firm breast and he massaged, taking a large nipple between his fingers, through her t-shirt, and rolling it, pinching gently.
She stroked his cock faster, and his mind burst with pleasure. Closer and closer, he edged to the point where he wouldn’t be able to turn back. The cloth against his sensitized penis, her touch, made him harder. It was wonderful torture, the way the fabric clung to his throbbing erection like a second, rougher skin. The stiffness almost hurt, and his cock felt molten with the growing bliss.
Coherent thought left him and sensation took over. Quickly, he unbuckled his pants, dropping them to give her better access. Then he helped Keisha out of her shirt and bra. His fingers trembled as the cold air in the corridor kissed his skin. He suppressed a shiver, and hoped she didn’t notice. He couldn’t give away how much she affected him. Not too much. He couldn’t let her have that power over him. Not yet.
Dipping his head, Omar took her nipple in his mouth and swirled his tongue around the taut, brown tip. She whispered encouragement as her hand slid under his underwear. The shock of heat around his cock made him take her firm, round breast deeper in his mouth. Her hand held him like a tight glove, and she swirled her fingertips around the head of his cock, wetting her palm with his pre-come. Her touch became slick, and he could take no more after she teased the head of his penis, tracing her fingers under the head ever so lightly, finding his sensitive spot, which elicited a long groan from him. He bucked his hips forward and she let out a low, throaty chuckle.
Omar lost all control. He had to have her, right there, right now. His fingers worked in a frenzy as he removed her jeans and panties. With one swift move, he flipped them around, so her back was pressed to the coarse, stone wall. His hand caressed her smooth skin, trailing down her flat stomach to her pussy. His touch slid past the thatch of hair there and divided her plump lips. She was very wet, and he used this to lubricate his touch as he went to work on her clit. Her moans built and grew as he massaged the enlarged nub. When he took it between his fingers and gave it a gentle pinch, rolled it in little circles, she cried out, throwing her head against the wall as she wrapped a leg around him.
And how he enjoyed her reactions. She would be a passionate lover. That was obvious. Omar dipped his head forward and took her lips in another insistent kiss, plunging his tongue into her mouth. His heart thudded with his building pleasure, and he pulled away to take in breath, but went back to devouring her mouth quickly. She tasted so sweet, so willing. He could get lost in her voluptuous, firm curves forever.
Her hands glided up his back. In this sensitive state it tickled his taut skin. Omar could take no more. He needed release, and wanted to give Keisha release. Gripping her sensual, generous ass, he guided her legs up and around him, then guided his cock into her hot, wet pussy. It was so tight, and it gripped him perfectly as he glided inside her paradise. He was so close to climax already, but he took some control over his building need, and pumped slowly in and out of her. Damn, but it felt amazing. Her pussy clenched and relaxed at just the right moment, clasping him firmly and rubbing the sensitive skin, stretched so tight it hurt. He would surely explode from this titillating assault on his senses.
His hands explored her body, slick with sweat. She was curvy and firm, her flesh yielding just enough under his insistent massage. He caressed her lightly muscled back, then his hands skimmed over her flesh to curl around her shapely thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his sculpted chest, meeting his thrusts with a rhythmic grinding.
She shook in his arms and dipped her head back until it touched the wall. His thrusts grew faster, frantic, and his fingers trailed to her sex, once again teasing and pleasuring her clit, bringing her to orgasm. Her pussy clamped so strong around his cock it almost hurt, but the sublime pressure flooded his belly with tingling heat. One last long, deep thrust and he came soon after she did.
Slowly, her legs slid down his. Their bodies stilled as their foreheads touched. His breathing slowed as he regained control. Letting his arms fall from her waist, he stepped back and examined her face for regret.
Her eyes were closed. Nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply. Her face showed serenity, but when she opened her eyes and met his gaze, apprehension tightened her expression.
He smiled, reaching out to wipe a bead of sweat from her cheek.
Her nervousness morphed into a sexy smirk. “Does this mean we’re friends?”
Omar’s heart lurched as his gaze absorbed her features. Part of him regretted the rash lovemaking. Unsure how he felt about the mind bender, he didn’t want to lead her on. He’d reacted to the rapid pace of events, to her abrupt appearance in their lives. Both of he and Keisha had been high on adrenaline.
He didn’t always show it, but he loved Rashid. And he had loved Veronica, too. Emotions came hard to Omar, and he’d be damned if he’d hang his heart out there again, on his sleeve, only to have this mind bender crush it under her boot heel.
Could she drive a wedge between him and Rashid? Veronica had tried and failed. Keisha wouldn’t get a chance to repeat their last lover’s treachery.
Gently he pushed away from Keisha, leaving her standing against the wall. He walked down the corridor without a word.
***
Chapter 4
“Hey,” she called after him. Gathering her senses after impromptu sex session number two, she ran after him.
Hurt and confused, Keisha grabbed his arm and yanked. He stopped, sighing heavily as he turned toward her.
“What is your problem?” She stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to stare him down. “You blow cold, hot, cold. Don’t you have a stable temperature?”
His eyes narrowed and he bent forward, pushing her back. Keisha swallowed hard but stood her ground. She stumbled when he walked forward, pushing her toward the wall. Still, she wouldn’t be intimidated by this bipolar bad boy. He wasn’t as tough as he thought.
Besides, what had she done wrong? One minute he’s seducing her, the next he’s making her feel like Mata Hari. The guy could at least give her a consistent chance.
“If you wanna treat me like the outsider, fine,” she said. “Just make up your mind.”
She stalked past him, but he grabbed her arm as she entered the main area. The force of his grip twirled her around.
“Look,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that… back there. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not complaining.” She shrugged.
He shook his head as he walked past her. “I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day.”
Rashid stood in the archway, grinning at her. “You were gone quite some time. Supper’s gone cold.”
Omar gave a disgusted moan from behind them. He climbed beneath the pile of blankets laid out by the far wall. His head disappeared beneath a tattered quilt.
Rashid chuckled. “Did you seduce him too, you little vixen?” He wrapped an arm around her, and they walked to the fire.
She shared his mirth. “He was a willing participant. At least I thought he was.”
Rashid gave her a sympathetic gaze. “Come on.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s get some sleep. You can have the middle.”
She climbed in a trio of sleeping bags zipped together. Ra
shid climbed in after her, wrapping a comforting arm about her waist. Blankets were piled atop the sleeping bags, and Keisha nestled her head into a lumpy but welcome pillow.
Omar edged away from her when her hand accidentally brushed his back.
Big baby, she thought, turning on her back.
Soon the two men snored, but sleep eluded Keisha. She listened to the crackling fire, while doubt settled in her mind. Did she regret the wanton afternoon of sex? No, not exactly. She realized it was an adrenaline release, brought on by the intense events of the night. She felt nothing more than natural camaraderie for these misfits.
Still, a part of her worried over her rash acts today. It wasn’t like pregnancy was a concern. She’d had her birth control shot at the open clinic just a month ago, and that was good for at least five years. The shot given to misfits by Elites Special Forces would have vaccinated her against most diseases. After all, the Elites liked to keep Funhouse prisoner clean and healthy, preferring they perish instead in a blood fight that pitted outcast against outcast. For them, it was much more amusing that way.
So why was she sweating it? No point in dwelling on her actions now. She was here, the deed was done. Anyway, she was stuck with these guys for a while. Might as well take the pleasant route.
But she wouldn’t fall in love with them. No way could she allow that. Once they were on the outside, after they found an outpost that welcomed misfits, she’d go her separate way.
Sleep began to fuzzy her thoughts. With it came the whisper of a dream. A pale, redhead beauty strolled between wooden pews. Sunlight filtered through a floor-to-ceiling stained glass window. The light cast shades of royal blue, red, and gold across the beauty’s arms, neck, and face. She beckoned to Keisha as she slipped backward into shadow.
Keisha followed, fear blooming in her stomach as complete blackness blinded her. The redhead laughed as the nightmare claimed the mind bender.
***
Read an excerpt from a scorching, upcoming Wild & Lawless release filled with steampunk, man love, and sexy mmf ménage. Love Under the Sea by C.J. Sneere and Roxxy Meyer will be released in early 2015. Part of our BDSM Fantasies series!
Love Under the Sea
BDSM Fantasies
By C.J. Sneere & Roxxy Meyer
Prologue
Northern England 1840
John let the cottage door bang open and shut in the warm summer breeze. He had sold the small country estate he and Estelle owned, handed down from her father to her and John when there were no males heirs to leave the property to. A small cottage was more than enough now that he was alone. Even here, in this stone hovel with only one room, he felt the place was too empty, too big, without his Estelle.
He poured himself his fifth whiskey of the afternoon and checked his pocket watch. Not even midday yet, but what did he care that he was drunk before the dinner bell rang? Without Estelle, the drink at least dulled the mundane days that seemed to stretch into forever.
The sun shone cheery rays through the open casement windows, but it was lost on John. He stared at the greenery outside with bleary eyes and tried to remember a time when he could appreciate such beauty. A time before all the wonder in his life withered and turned grey. But he couldn’t summon those happy memories.
Though she had never set foot in this cottage, Estelle haunted him here, too. Her face wafted through his mind, and John saw her sitting on the small cot where he slept. Her sunken eyes beseeched him. Why did you let me die? they seemed to say. The bleariness in his eyes grew worse as tears drowned his vision.
“I couldn’t save you,” he whispered. “Doctor Gibbons couldn’t. No one could, my darling. I’m so sorry.”
The vision of his withered wife faded, and John threw his tin mug of whiskey at the door. He watched the amber liquid pool on the floor while he cried softly.
Estelle had been pregnant with their first child when the cholera took hold in her. The miscarriage was just too much for her weakened body. Doctor Gibbons has spent a fortnight in their country estate nursing Estelle. He had felt a closeness to her case, being the doctor who brought her into the world twenty summers before. That night, he would also be the doctor to see her leave the earth behind.
“Stupid fool,” John chided himself. “Quit this. Quit torturing yourself.”
But the torment continued throughout day after agonizing day. She was in the field when he went to plow, standing with the tiny flock of sheep he now kept when he went to tend them. She haunted him over and over, asking why he spent so much time at sea when they were together? Why he did not want to be home with her?
Maybe if you had been there then, I wouldn’t have gotten sick… the vision told him as he poured fresh whiskey in a tin mug retrieved from his meager cupboards. But you always loved being on the water, didn’t you, John? More than you ever loved me…
“Stop it!” He stilled his hand when the impulse to throw the whiskey took him again. “I loved you more than anything, but I had to provide a life for us, didn’t I?”
Your first love was always the sea, she said again, and then disappeared through the doorway while he shook his head, denying what this phantom of his mind declared to be true.
The ache set in then—another ache piled atop his heartsickness. It was a longing to be back on the sea, back where he belonged, now that Estelle was gone. But guilt held him back from returning to his post as captain of the trading vessel The Green Molly. Estelle always worried when he went out to sea, and it was while he was at sea that she had first taken ill. A part of him could not forgive himself for that.
It was then the letter caught his attention. The familiar name scrawled across the front became a beacon, calming the raging misery inside him and bringing a rare feeling of joy. The letter was from his dear old friend, Oscar Adair. John unfastened the seal on the back and unfolded the paper. How long had it been since he had last received a letter from Oscar? Two years or more, it had to be. The last thing he had written was that he was working on something that would truly astound John, and when Oscar was finished, he would promptly write to share his success and news. He wouldn’t divulge what his latest invention was then, but now, as John, read the letter, his inventor friend’s infectious enthusiasm poured off the page. For a moment, all his misery was forgotten, and he was a child filled with wonder again.
Dearest friend,
I learned of your sad news when I was traveling through Hastings. A man there said he knew you during your time on The Green Molly, and said you had taken leave to be with your sick wife, but he had received word you wouldn’t be returning, due to her passing. Words cannot express how sorry I am for your loss, friend. Estelle was such a treasure. I hope, in some small way, the news I have to share with you today will lighten your spirits.
It is finished! My dear friend, wait until you see it! I dare say I have outdone myself this time, John.
Remember how we always talked of what waited under the ocean? How we would spend hours imagining what might live under the waves. Well, now you and I will have that chance. I have successfully completed my greatest invention to date: a steam-powered submarine. What do you think of that?
It will be truly wondrous, John. Please come join me in Kent post haste. I can think of no other friend I would have with me when I journey beneath the ocean.
Eagerly awaiting your arrival.
Your friend,
Oscar Adair
John’s heart lightened at the thought of venturing beneath the ocean, to be not only on the water again, but immersed in her azure depths. He felt a smile lift his lips, and wondered how long it had last been since he smiled.
Had Oscar really done it? That crazy fool was always up to something, and truth be known, his childhood friend was an ingenious inventor. He had been integral in designing some of the latest developments for the locomotive engine in London. An eccentric inventor with a penchant for alone time, using the hours to pour over his latest creation, he was known for his strange habits, ext
ended bachelorhood, and his genius. If anyone could build such a marvel, John had no doubt it was Oscar.
You love the ocean more than me…Estelle’s voice haunted him again, and he threw the letter down as guilt and shame drowned his mirth. How could he think of returning to the sea when it was his very absence that had killed his wife?
The door to the stone cottage stopped its rhythmic banging as Doctor Gibbons entered. He patted his shiny forehead with a white handkerchief and said, “My, it’s a warm one out there. And how are you today, John?”
John sighed and tried to force another smile for his friend. “I’m still here, Doc. Still here.”
Doctor Gibbons gave John a worried look, and then the doctor’s gaze settled on the whiskey bottle. His friend’s unspoken question—how many?—was not lost on John.
“Got a letter from Oscar today,” he said, as the doctor eased himself in the uncomfortable wooden chair across the table.
Doctor Gibbon’s face warmed in a genuine smile John welcomed. “Oscar. How is he?”
A part of John kicked himself for mentioning the letter. He’d opened the proverbial can of worms, and there was no shutting it now. He wondered if he was sabotaging his own misery. Perhaps it was time—time to let go of all his self-pity.
“Good. Ecstatic, in fact.” John paused to offer the doctor a cup of whiskey, which he declined. “That crazy fool has built a submarine.”
The doctor gave a confounded look, so John elaborated.
“A ship that goes beneath the waves. Steam powered. Would you believe it? Oscar is certainly thriving in this new age of the Industrial Revolution. I daresay that man will out-invent himself one day.”
John shared a warm laugh with the doctor, and it felt good. His chest felt lighter, his mood lifted, and so he ventured on, after taking a sip of whiskey. “He wants me to go with him, beneath the waves.”
“Well then…” Doctor Gibbons pushed the tin cup away from John as he leaned forward. “Why are you still here? Get packing, man!” He gave John an impish grin.
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