Naughty Nibbles Anthology

by Sierra Cartwright, SL Majors, Christy Lockhart

  Instead of allowing him to be in charge this time, she reached for him. “I want you naked,” she said. “I want to look at your body.” With less skill than enthusiasm, she fumbled with his belt.

  "Need help?” he asked.

  "No. I just need your clothes off."

  His laugh was deep, rich and rumbling. He captured her hand and guided it between their bodies, to his cock. She closed her hand around him, and she felt him swell. That just made her hotter.

  "Chloe."

  She looked at him.

  "Let me help."

  Fighting to steady her breath, he released his hold on her hand. Reluctantly, she let go of his penis. He lowered the zipper on his pants and started peeling down the material.

  Oh Lord, oh Lord. He was commando beneath. There was nothing to get between her and this sex God of a man.

  Together they managed to get rid of his trousers.

  She cupped his balls. They were heavy and felt full. “You clip your pubic hair,” she said. “And shave your testicles."

  "I wanted the sensation of you to be more powerful."

  Everything he did was designed around lovemaking. Lucky, lucky, lucky girl.

  "Your shirt,” she said. “Take it off.” When had she gotten so demanding? Oh yeah, a few months ago, when she knew she had to have him, no matter what common sense said. “Uhmm ... now, please."

  In less than twenty seconds, he was completely naked. Hungrily, she looked her fill.

  His chest had hair, but not a lot. Downy soft blond streaked down the centre of his chest, ending above his navel. His stomach actually had ripply muscles. If she'd gone to the man factory and custom ordered a fuck buddy, she could not have done any better than Adam. “Nice,” she said.

  His laughter washed over her.

  "Now, to put you to good use."

  She manoeuvred their positions so that he was on his back and she was straddling his stomach. His erection pressed against her bottom, but she resisted the urge to part her legs and let him slip inside.

  Foreplay. She wanted foreplay, on her terms.

  His hair was sinfully long, and she fisted a hand into it, like he had with hers last night.

  She kissed him, a gentle tease at the corner of his mouth. Then she claimed his mouth, being the aggressor, reaching for his tongue, sucking on it, twirling hers around his.

  Yum. He tasted of the richness of a Guinness and smelled of humid night air. Sexy. Sinful.

  Need became a throbbing demand.

  Ending the kiss, Chloe nipped his neck. Moving lower, she gently bit his shoulder. Finally, her hands splayed on the solidness of his chest, she flicked her tongue across the flatness of one of his nipples just ‘til the little nub hardened.

  "Chloe.” Had he said her name? Or had he just growled? She couldn't tell. It was hard to hear anything over the timpani of her heartbeat. He grabbed her by the upper arms. “Enough."

  "Not even almost,” she said, closing her teeth around his nipple.

  "Wench!"

  With a laugh, she pulled away from him. Moving quickly, she climbed off him and knelt beside his hips.

  His cock glistened with a drop of pre-cum. She licked it off, then curled her tongue against her upper lip.

  That, she knew, as definitely a groan.

  She took the head of his penis into her mouth. She traced its outline, then sucked more of its length into her mouth.

  Adam held her head steady, then began thrusting his hips.

  She moaned.

  He moved, and she followed in this private, erotic dance.

  "Chloe, I'm warning you. If you want to be fucked..."

  She turned her head slightly so she could look at him, but she didn't stop her motions.

  "If you want to be fucked,” he repeated. “You'd better stop what you're doing."

  Power was going to her head. That she could make this man ready to ejaculate so quickly was heady business.

  "Mount me."

  Now there was an invitation. She didn't even need it engraved. Reluctantly, she took her mouth off him.

  "Come here."

  When she was on her knees, leaning back, just inches from him, he effortlessly released the knot at her waist. The robe parted. “You're naked."

  Good looks, and he was smart, too. “Didn't want to waste any time."

  She shrugged, and the satin slid from her shoulders.

  Adam's golden eyes darkened, the colour reminding her of burnt honey.

  He touched the crystal teardrop nestled between her breasts. “Do you ever take it off?"

  "Only when I swim or take a bath."

  "Seems obsessive."

  "Nothing that complicated.” Nude, except for her fun slippers, she straddled him again, this time, across his pelvis.

  Adam's penis was thick and erect. Her pussy was wet and willing. Handy how well that worked out.

  Reaching behind her, she guided him toward her wet hole.

  She gasped.

  The reality of him being inside her was so much more incredible than the fantasy had been.

  He cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples lightly until they pebbled. A sharp stab of desire went to her crotch. Desire? Well, more like white hot horniness.

  Using her knees to brace herself, she began to slide up and down.

  He grabbed her around the waist. Apparently, he didn't do well with the woman-in-charge way of doing things.

  Not that she minded. She liked a man who knew what he wanted, and, even better, how to please her.

  Her eyes were closed, her head tipped back. She was enjoying his thrusts, the depth he achieved. He filled her.

  Despite the cool night air, her skin heated.

  "What was it you said you wanted from me?” he asked, holding her steady.

  Opening her eyes, she scowled at him. “Do you know how close I was?"

  "Thirty seconds?"

  "T—minus ten seconds and counting."

  "Then I'm glad we stopped."

  "What's this ‘we’ nonsense."

  He laughed. “What kind of climax did you tell me you wanted."

  Amazing. He remembered what she had told him. “A screaming orgasm."

  "Would it have been a screaming orgasm?"

  "It would have been good. But now I'll never know."

  "It would have been good,” he agreed. His gaze captured hers. “But you wouldn't have screamed."

  Her insides quickened with interest.

  "No more using your knees for support."

  "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

  "Stretch out your legs."

  She frowned. “You want me to lie on top of you?"

  "Not exactly.” He captured the right ankle and drew her leg toward his head.

  "Hey! That's not physically possible."

  "Yes,” he said, “it is."

  Suddenly, he was seated even deeper inside her. Uh. Wow.

  "Now move your other leg."

  He offered his hand so she could balance while she performed the acrobatics. Yoga. She'd have to take up yoga to keep up with this man.

  She stretched out her left leg. She was seated on top of him, faced toward him, unable to control anything, completely vulnerable.

  His cock filled her, pressing against her womb.

  The sensations were so intense she couldn't think.

  She wasn't quite sure how he did it, but he grabbed her ankles, imprisoning her. She was TTO—Totally Turned On!

  "Move with me,” he told her.

  As if she could do anything else. She was completely at the mercy of his much more powerful body.

  He rocked his hips, and the breath was sucked from her lungs.

  "How's that?"

  "I've never been so filled up in my entire life. This is..."

  "I want you to scream."

  She reached backward, needing something to hold onto. Her hands found his thighs, then slipped off when he moved again.

  That was it! Almost ... Almost ...
“Adam."

  He let go of one ankle. Awkwardly, he worked a hand between them. “Scream, Chloe.” He put his finger against her clit, then he increased the pressure exponentially.

  She screamed.

  Chapter Four

  How you knew it was going to be a bad day: the mayor was waiting for you when you got to work.

  When Chloe was growing up, the mayor of Camden-on-the-Water was a stuffy old man who wore a top hat and four-in-hand-tie. And that was every day. Special occasions, she could see, but all day, every day?

  Times had changed, and so had the mayor.

  Barbara Stafford—in her thirties and with long blonde hair, she took occasional hits in the tabloids. And the latest ones had been thanks to Chloe and the naughty sculpture. Not so good, that. With the scowl on Barbara's face, Chloe knew the news wouldn't be good. “Ms. Mayor."

  "We have to talk, Chloe."

  Chloe unlocked the door to her office and invited the mayor in. “Sorry I don't have tea made."

  "It's not a social visit."

  "It's about Adam.” Chloe took a seat behind her desk.

  Barbara, her arms folded beneath her breasts, remained standing. “He has to go."

  "When did we become Camden-on-the-Backwaters?"

  Barbara unfolded her hands. “We have to reach a compromise."

  "The sculpture park is a brilliant move for this town, Barbara. And we'll never get publicity if all we do are frogs and children and little lambs."

  "I'm not suggesting we do that."

  "Then...?"

  Barbara sighed. “We'll move him."

  "Controversy is good for tourism."

  "Getting me thrown out of office is not good for the project."

  "Well, shit."

  "It's come to that, Chloe."

  She drummed a pen on the desk's edge.

  "You'll talk to the artist,” Barbara said.

  "And tell her that Adam can't be anywhere where his cock might offend?"

  To Barbara's credit, she didn't flinch. Instead, she agreed, “Correct."

  "Where were you thinking?"

  "The new alcove."

  So Adam, in all his glory, wouldn't be in the town square. Instead, he'd be in the back of the park, all alone. No one could accidentally see him. His penis wouldn't be visible from Saint John's Church or All Saints School.

  "He can have his own garden of Eden."

  "Maybe we should commission Eve. She can have big breasts, but I'm not going for a fig leaf."

  "Chloe."

  She dropped the pen. “You win. All of you.” And she'd have to speak to Adam's creator. And wasn't that something to look forward to? She'd rather have a root canal. At least at the dentists, you got anaesthesia.

  Later that night, when she was home and had changed into a pair of jogging pants—not that she'd ever actually jog—and a T-shirt, Adam showed up.

  She wasn't much in the mood for company. She looked like hell and felt worse. She was exhausted and bitchy. She'd sent out a press release detailing Adam's new location in the park, and she'd had to deal with one very unhappy sculptor. Her phone had rung all day long, and to add insult, when she was leaving the office, a cheeky photographer had snapped a picture of her, dishevelled and with her mouth set in a firm line. That's what she wanted on file for eternity. All in all, the day sucked.

  To top it off, had she mentioned she was dressed in jogging pants?

  And he had to look like temptation, when she wasn't even certain sex could cure what ailed her.

  She frowned instead of drawing the door open. It was a wonder he didn't turn and run.

  Brave lad. He kissed the top of her head, then came in without an invitation and uncorked a bottle of wine.

  What the hell? Maybe Adam could cure what ailed her. She might as well give it a try. Couldn't hurt to experiment, could it?

  "Bad day?"

  She went into the small courtyard behind her house, and he followed. The night was a few degrees below cool. She wished she'd brought a cardigan with her. She sat at the small table, enjoying the quiet. Clouds danced with a half-full moon, and the only other light was the soft glow that spilled through the kitchen's open door.

  He stretched out his long legs and savoured a long drink from his glass.

  God, it was good having him here. “Your namesake is causing me all kinds of problems."

  "And I intend to make sure you forget them."

  Uhmm. That sounded nice. “How will you start?"

  "Have you ever been fucked against a tree?"

  She nearly choked on her wine. “That's to start?"

  He didn't answer.

  "Trees are outside,” she pointed out helpfully.

  "So they are."

  "And it's bloody freezing out here."

  "Not quite."

  She sneaked a glance toward the downy birch lovingly planted years ago by a previous homeowner.

  He took her glass from her hand and slid the crystal onto the table. Leaning forward, he captured her shoulders.

  "The neighbours,” she protested against his mouth. Truth to tell, she was getting aroused by the idea of being so naughty.

  "Your neighbours have probably had sex a time or two."

  "But..."

  "If you're concerned, I could gag you."

  "Yeah. No thanks."

  He stood and pulled her with him. Then he took a step away from her. “Strip."

  "What?” She glanced around. “Here? Now?"

  "Seems a bit ridiculous to go inside to get undressed and come back out."

  It wasn't just his namesake causing her troubles, she feared.

  "Chloe. I want you naked."

  "With you watching?"

  "I've seen your hot cunt dripping with juices.” He leaned back and took another sip from his wine. “Now strip."

  Oh. Since he put it that way...

  Still sitting, she pulled the T-shirt from her waistband, then over her head. She dropped it on the table.

  "That's a start."

  She stood and took another quick glance around. The dividing walls separating her from her neighbours were higher than Adam was tall. Someone would have be to very nosy to see anything. Either that, or they'd have to look out of an upstairs window. Lord, she hoped the trees had enough leaves for privacy.

  Still, game to try almost anything, after all, she had been bored until he came into her life, Chloe toed off her shoes. Before she could take off her jogging bottoms, he moved. He pulled her pants straight down. Her stomach seemed to go with them.

  And there she was, in her under garments in her backyard.

  "Go to the tree."

  Her insides tied in an excited knot, she did, conscious of him watching her every move.

  The flagstones beneath her bare feet were frigid. The small patch of grass was damp and dewy. “I'll catch my death of cold,” she muttered.

  "I heard that. You'll be fine."

  Untypical man. This one didn't seem to know what selective hearing was.

  "Face the tree,” he said when she stopped and looked back at him.

  She scowled. Not just a frown, but an all-out scowl.

  "You were in charge last night,” he said. “I am tonight."

  Feeling vulnerable, and more than a little excited, she faced the tree.

  Seconds later, she felt the heat of his breath on her neck. Goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold chased up her arms.

  He sank his teeth into the curve of her shoulder. Her knees went weak.

  Chloe reached back, trying to touch him.

  "Hands over your head,” he said.

  She complied, and he captured both of her wrists with one powerfully strong hand.

  With his body, he pressed her against the tree.

  She was overwhelmed by an assault of sensations—the cold air, abrasive denim against her naked skin, the unyielding firmness of the tree, her pendant between her breasts, the helplessness of her position. Her mind swam. “Adam..."


  He nudged her legs apart.

  "How do you want it, Chloe?"

  "Hard,” she said, gasping as he nibbled on her ear. “Hard and fast.” With his free hand, he stroked her between the legs, abrading her clit. She moaned.

  Above the thunder of her own heartbeat, she heard his zipper.

  He kept her pinned against the trunk, and then she felt his erection against her, his heat on her chilled body.

  "Stand on your tiptoes,” he told her.

  With her hands over her head, her legs splayed apart, she felt stretched wide in invitation.

  Then the head of his cock was between her folds.

  "You're wet."

  Surprise! She wanted this man. Every time they weren't together, she imagined this kind of passion, imagined him riding her, imagined him filling her, fucking her.

  Slowly, he eased into her.

  The naughtiness, the fear the neighbours might see something, made it all the more heady.

  Then suddenly, it wasn't nice and sweet anymore.

  He pushed into her, deeply.

  Breath felt sucked from her lungs.

  "You doing all right?” he asked.

  "Yes.” The word sounded more like a hiss.

  "Can you spread your legs a little more?"

  Not without feeling as though she'd be torn apart. But she wanted to experience it all. Wasn't that why she'd gotten into this? A screaming orgasm. Nothing nice and polite. No more having to tell a man what she wanted.

  "Do it, Chloe."

  She opened her legs wider. Clever, he was. This way, she relied on his body for support even more. She was a little lower, giving him more access to her pussy.

  He pressed into her more, his thighs forcing her belly, her cunt, against the tree. More and more, he had her helpless.

  He fucked her then, hard, fast. Over and over, he slammed into her. Her breasts were flattened, and her nipples were little buds of desire. Every nerve ending was on fire.

  She began to shake as an orgasm clawed at her womb. Unthinking, she tried to pull away her hands, but he remained unyielding.

  "Feel me,” he said.

  As if she could do anything else.

  No one but him existed in this moment. Nothing mattered but his cock filling her, stretching her. “Adam, I'm...” She was what? Overwhelmed.

  "Come,” he whispered.

  She did. Screaming, whimpering, moaning.

  It wasn't until her convulsions had stopped that he began moving again. “My turn,” he told her.