Naughty Nibbles Anthology

by Sierra Cartwright, SL Majors, Christy Lockhart

  "Don't move,” he said. She struggled, his nearly naked captive. She looked exquisite, with his uniform shirt still hanging on. Now it was captured by her hands, where they were joined together behind her back. He loved seeing her legs spread, feet encased in boots and her hair in royal disarray. “You didn't come?” he asked. “You're sure of that?"

  Now that her legs were spread, she seemed a bit less certain of her answer.

  "Uhmm..."

  "We'll, if you've got nothing to hide, you won't mind if I have a look, then, will you?” He didn't give her a chance to answer. Instead, he placed a hand between her legs and rubbed his fingers into her slit. “You feel a bit moist, Meghan. Very moist.” He went a little deeper. God, his wife's cunt felt good. “I'm not sure your pussy has ever been wetter.” He pulled out his hand and held it up for her inspection. “What do you think?"

  She moistened her lip. “I..."

  While she was off guard, he wiped his finger across her mouth. “Taste yourself."

  She was hesitant at first, but then she did.

  "Now more."

  She blinked.

  "Open your mouth and suck on my fingers.” Alan was done for. He captured her mouth in a penetrating kiss, tasting her pussy juices on her tongue. Their mouths ground together, then their bodies did.

  He picked her up; he could barely think, had a hard time trying to swim through the fog of passion that mired his movements. “Get rid of my shirt,” he told her.

  She dropped the shirt on the carpeted floor.

  Passion claimed him.

  The rational part of him told him to slow down. It'd been too long a deployment for a fast union. They should savour it.

  Then he couldn't.

  The daze was a red heat.

  He'd seen her naked body, tasted her cum in his mouth. He might be a warrior, but overriding that, he was a man who'd been too long without his mate.

  He tossed her on the bed.

  "Hurry,” she urged, as if he needed encouragement.

  She managed to pull back the bedspread before he was on top of her, naked.

  She still had on her boots. “Spread your legs."

  He took her fast, pounding into her with none of the restraint he'd shown before. This was him, raw. Untamed. And he wanted her the same way. She put her legs on his shoulders, and he inhaled the scent of leather as he filled her.

  "I'm going to come,” she warned him.

  "Do it!” He sucked on the nipple he'd bitten earlier.

  She writhed and bucked, dislodging his cock as she came. Man was she something.

  When she'd stopped shaking, she grinned. “Sorry."

  "I'm not. I like it when you come so hard.” He smoothed back her hair. “Now can I come back inside?"

  "Yeah,” she said. “I tried to wait for you. Honest."

  "Honey, there's more where that came from."

  She grinned. “There'd better be. I'm not even getting warmed up."

  "Put your legs back on my shoulders.” Leaning forward, he sucked on her clit and moistened her with his tongue, not that they really needed the additional lubrication.

  "Put your cock in me,” she said. “I feel so empty."

  He made certain she climaxed again before he slid back inside her and searched for his own rhythm.

  "I want you to come,” she said. She pinched his nipples.

  The stinging sensation was all it took. Digging his hands into her hair, forcing her legs farther apart with his shoulders, he slammed into her.

  Her vaginal walls milked him, and he spurted deep inside her.

  Moments later, he opened his eyes. His forearms trembled from the effort of supporting his weight during that powerful of an orgasm.

  She was looking up at him.

  "Welcome home."

  Yeah. It was good to be here.

  "But one other thing, Lieutenant? I've been practicing military style push-ups. Those are the ones where your legs are apart, right?"

  "Not exactly."

  "It's not where you're on your knees and you put your head on the floor..."

  She'd definitely gotten his interest.

  "And then you lift up your head and dip your back."

  He shook his head. He'd survived combat, and he wasn't sure he'd survive her. “No. I honestly can't say I've ever seen a push-up that looked like that."

  "Oh. Well that must mean you don't wiggle your bottom, either."

  "Uhh ... During this push-up, what are you wearing?"

  "Why, nothing at all. I wouldn't want to get your clothes all sweaty."

  Good Lord.

  Are you still there?

  He wasn't sure. Part of him was in her. Part of him was in England. He wasn't sure where his physical body was.

  LAD?

  He ploughed his fingers into his hair. I'm still here.

  Was it as good for you as it was for me?

  He actually laughed, as he knew she intended.

  I have a confession...

  He took a drink of water. The desert's stifling heat was drying him out. At least that was what he was telling himself. The truth was, he had to cool off or he'd never be able to face his men again. They'd look at each other knowingly and chalk up his boner to Internet porn. Go on.

  I masturbated.

  It didn't surprise him, in fact, he'd rather hoped she had. But what she said next shocked him.

  Then I licked my fingers.

  Chapter Five

  Meghan had waited months for this day. This morning, she'd made the final X on the days of the calendar, using a fat permanent marker. Today was circled, in bright yellow. Stupid, really, yellow to represent the sun coming back out in her life.

  Now that the day was really here, she was so wound up and nervous she could barely think. She hadn't eaten a thing since yesterday, and the tea she'd drunk earlier lay coiled in the pit of her stomach. It was supposed to have soothed, or so her mother said when she'd rung earlier. Well, it hadn't helped. Nothing had. Soon, she was going to end up jumping out of her skin.

  She powered up the computer, hoping against hope that there'd be something, anything from him.

  There wasn't.

  That was good news, actually. If there had been an email, it would have meant he wasn't on an aeroplane, heading home, to her.

  How long until he actually got here? How long?

  She dashed back up the stairs to change. Again. This was her fourth trip to the bedroom. She'd discarded knickers and brassieres and slacks and skirts and nearly every blouse that she owned. A couple of dresses lay discarded for good measure, as well.

  She wanted to look hot for him.

  No matter what he'd told her on their last online chat ... that he was interested in her and only her, that nothing but their time together mattered ... she was still nervous.

  It was one thing to fantasise with him when they were separated by half of the world. It was another thing entirely to know that in hours, maybe even minutes, your husband would be stripping you bare, emotionally as well as physically.

  The sex they'd had before he left had been mind blowing. But since he'd been gone...? She'd been brutally honest with herself. She'd excavated the woman she truly wanted to be, passionate, open, honest, a bit edgy. The woman in the letters was sensuous and exciting, never shy unless it suited her. No matter what he suggested, she coyly licked her lips and went along.

  And she'd been more than naughty in her letters, too. She used words she'd never said out loud.

  How well did they really know each other, though? They'd had a whirlwind courtship and wedding, and they'd been apart most of their short, married life.

  And he was expecting to come home to a woman he hadn't left behind.

  She pressed her hand against her stomach.

  Stop.

  She had to stop it.

  She had a choice on what to think about. He'd taught her that. Sometimes things went bad in combat. You could give into panic and fear, or you could breathe through
it, keep your head on and focus on where you wanted to end up.

  She drew a breath, filling her lungs.

  The woman in the letters was her, as much as the woman he'd met while he was jogging. She was as much the woman in the letters as the woman who went to work and the woman who tidied the house.

  She could be whomever she chose.

  As she unbuttoned her blouse, she spied his desert combat uniform in the closet, just like in his most recent fantasy. There was a beret there as well, along with a tent hat. She reached for the green beret, and then changed her mind and plucked the officer's tent hat from the shelf

  Well, she couldn't let him have everything he expected.

  Her fingers shook, no longer just from nerves, but from the illicit thrill unwinding in her tummy. She could do this.

  She dropped her shirt. There'd be time enough for mundane chores after he left, when the days were long and lonely as they inevitably would be, sooner than she cared to think about. She nicked the shirt from its hanger and hurried to dump the cap and shirt on the bed.

  She actually had a pair of boots that would work, as well. He didn't know about them. After he'd told her he liked ridiculously high shoes, she'd gone on a shopping spree. Anything for shoes. Since then, he'd asked her twice if she'd been shopping. She'd made excuses, citing money and the effort of finding a shop that would sell something so impractical.

  Just buying them and imagining his reaction had put her in a naughty mood. She knew they'd cripple her, but she didn't mind. It wasn't forever and it'd be worth every single pinched toe just to see his approval.

  She grabbed a handful of pins for her hair as well as safety pins for the clothes and got to work.

  Her lieutenant was in for the surprise of his life.

  * * * *

  The door slammed. Her heart did, as well, against her rib cage.

  "Meg?"

  It was all she could do not to answer, not to rush from her hiding spot and launch herself into his arms. The pain of it made the emotion a tangible thing. All this waiting...

  "I'm home."

  Was there anything sweeter than hearing that your man was home from war? Yeah, maybe. Maybe I love you.

  "Are you down here?"

  There was silence. Smart man. You couldn't fool him twice, he went straight to the back door and opened it.

  She clamped her hand over her mouth so he wouldn't hear her giggling.

  Then she dashed away from the stairway and ducked into the bedroom. He'd see what he was expecting to see upstairs, or so she hoped.

  Within short minutes, she heard his heavy footfall on the stairs.

  "Meg?"

  Here I am! Chase me until I catch you! Wasn't that her mum's best advice? Let the man believe he was doing all the chasing.

  "Holy shit,” he said. He was obviously looking at the explosion that had ripped through the closet, leaving numerous casualties in the way of clothes and shoes, belts, and even the odd hanger.

  "The officers cap, is it? What else do you have in store for me?"

  If only he knew.

  "When I find you, Meg,” he said softly, “you're mine."

  He hadn't looked beyond the obvious, the mess and the piles of clothes, clean and dirty and, hadn't noticed that the laundry bin prevented the door from opening all the way, giving her plenty of space to hide behind.

  Clever, that, making such a mess. So out of character, he hadn't looked any further.

  Obviously believing he'd missed something outside, he headed back down the stairs.

  She followed, trying not to twist her ankle on the way down. In that fantasy of hers, she'd complained about the ridiculous fuck-me shoes he'd left for her to wear with her French maid's outfit. But since he'd told her how much they turned him on ... She felt sexy as sin.

  When he came back inside, she was there, lazing against the kitchen wall, one of her knees bent and her booted foot propped on the wall. “Found me, soldier."

  There was a moment, brief and ripe, where the world stopped. She forgot to breathe. He didn't move.

  He was impossibly handsome, unbelievably sexy. She was overcome with emotion, with joy, anticipation, excitement and the knowledge he'd only be here a matter of days, if not mere hours. She was riding a roller coaster, blinking away the tears and holding back the laughter that had all bubbled up at the same time. Despite the looming pain of their inevitable separation, she wouldn't trade this slice of time for anything else in the world.

  Even though they'd been together everyday in their letters, nothing could have prepared her for this. It was the first time, all over again, only better.

  She still had spikes of adrenaline like she'd had the first day they met, when they had run together beside the Thames. But this time, she knew what a worthy man he was. She knew his intentions were honourable, that he'd love her and cherish her. And fuck her brainless. That part she liked especially well.

  "What do you have on beneath that uniform?"

  With his words, he shattered the moment. This, this, was what she lived for.

  She'd fastened a belt around his shirt. This way her curves were emphasized and he'd have to work a bit to get her naked. “You'll have to find out for yourself."

  "Don't mind if I do.” He grinned.

  She laughed, surrendering to the exhilaration.

  Seeing his erection and the way he was poised to pounce, she turned to high-tail it from the kitchen. The chase was on.

  He caught her in the living room.

  And he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

  She kicked because it was fun, and when he spun, she had to grab for his belt loops. “You're making me dizzy."

  "You're making me horny."

  He carried her into the bedroom and unceremoniously dumped her on the bed. With the heels of her fantastic new boots, she dug into the mattress to scoot away from him.

  He grabbed her ankle and yanked her back.

  There were no words.

  He pinned her beneath his taut, masculine body.

  He fed his hands into her hair and held her head prisoner for his kiss.

  She didn't surrender so easily. She reached between them, ripping the button off his trousers. His cock was freed immediately.

  "Meghan?"

  "I've waited and waited. Damn it. I'm not waiting another stinking minute."

  "But—"

  She reached up, grabbed his head, and held him prisoner. “Fuck me."

  "Fuck you?"

  "Hard."

  "Hard?"

  She dragged his head down and ground their mouths together. “Hard,” she repeated. “Like that."

  "Just like that?"

  She squeezed his cock. “Fuck me, lieutenant, before I roll your arse beneath me and fuck you."

  "With an invitation like that..."

  "It is not,” she said, each word clipped, “an invitation."

  He grinned and pulled up the shirt she was wearing. “You've nothing on underneath."

  "And?"

  "I may come before I even get inside your tight cunt."

  When he slammed into her, she squeezed her eyes shut. He was forceful and strong. Nothing in her memories or fantasies prepared her. It wasn't just the physical, it was the emotional, the mental. And it created a force that left her equal parts demanding and needy.

  "Fuck,” he said. “I can't wait."

  "Don't. It's been too long."

  Obviously trying to deny his need long enough to satisfy hers, he reached between them and found her clit.

  "Uh? Alan?” Then whatever she was about to say was lost. She dug in her heels and arched her back, dragging him deeper and deeper. She came in a shattered scream.

  He rode her, his motions becoming choppier. Then she bit his shoulder.

  His body froze. Then he shuddered and she felt his cock pulsing, pounding against her pussy walls. “Welcome home,” she told him.

  "Nowhere I'd rather be, woman I love,” he said, fisting a hand in
her hair.

  "I love you, too."

  "You'll be tired of me soon."

  And they'd be back to letters.

  "No chance, soldier. Unless you decide to stop fucking me."

  "No chance, captive."

  "Captive?” She dug in her heels and jerked her hips, trying to dislodge him.

  "Captive,” he affirmed. “Helpless to resist...” He nipped her neck. Then he grabbed her hands in one of his and pinned her wrists to the mattress above her head. “...as I have my wicked way with you."

  "Please...” She blinked. Already that snake of desire was uncoiling in her again. “Whatever are you going to do to me?"

  "Whatever I want."

  She ground her pelvis against his, feeling his cock starting to harden once more.

  "We'll start here...” He took hold of her right nipple and pinched it until it became a hard, erect nub. “And go from there."

  Sounded about right to her.

  * * * *

  * * * *

  About the Author

  Bestselling author Christy Lockhart is the author of eleven books from Silhouette Desire, Silhouette Intimate Moments, Elloras Cave and Loose Id and now, happily, Total-e-bound. She also had a historical romance produced in audio format.

  Originally from Manchester, the world is her playground, and she now calls the splendor of Rocky Mountain Colorado home. She is a past president of Colorado Romance Writers and a past Board Member of Romance Writers of America. She's the recipient of Colorado Romance Writers Writer of the Year Award, RWA's prestigious Emma Merritt Service Award, along with the Coeur Du Bois Love of Romance Award.

  As a certified life coach, she helps inspire others to live their dreams, as well.

  Christy loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at www.totalebound.com.

  Also by Christy Lockhart

  Naughty Nibbles: ‘213 High Street: Peepshow'

  Other recent titles available at Total-e-bound Publishing

  Total-e-bound eBooks

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  www.totalebound.com

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