He wanted to tackle her where she stood and do all sorts of dirty things when she cocked a hip, flipped her hair, pursed her lips, and put him in his goddamn place with one sentence.
“Wet would be the quid pro quo for that,” she snottily drawled while gesturing to his groin.
Porn being so readily available meant he had seen his fair share. He was a guy. It came with the territory. As an English teacher, he had also read a million pages of sometimes classy and sometimes raunchy erotica but never, in either instance, had he come across quid pro quo as the answer to an intimate equation.
She. Was. Priceless. And she’d just admitted to being aroused.
Grinning, he taunted ever so slyly. “I reward for using five-dollar words.”
Her gasp was mocking and playful. “Such ego.”
Was she stalling? He sort of hoped so. The shy hesitation was charming as fuck.
“Do you need help with the dress?”
“No.” She snorted with affront.
“Then get on with it, would you? Getting old waiting. What is the matter? Oh, wait,” he teased. “Are you rocking granny panties? Is that what this is?”
This time, her gasp was half real. “I beg your pardon! Granny panties? Are you insane?”
The outrage had her losing the dress in record time. It was tight, so she had to do an eye-opening shimmy to shove it off her hips. There was a moment or two when he nearly went blind with lust.
She took the dress, wadded it into a bunch, and tossed it at his face. He had to laugh because the move was so Kristal. The way her scent clung to the fabric staggered him. It was all there—the smell of her shampoo and the delicate perfume that drove him wild—as he took a deep breath before pulling the garment away.
What she was wearing defied any sort of description. He had no clue what the hell these things were called. Kristal’s healthy curves had the power to render him stupid. There was a sheer back whatever-it-was holding her un-fucking-believable tits. It molded to her torso, stopping just shy of a pair of black panties that consisted of next to no material and probably cost a fortune.
She was just as outrageous and far more beautiful than his imagination had conjured. The hips she worried were too big looked to him like they were custom made for his grip. And her breasts. Holy god. Tits like that, and natural to boot, were drool inducing.
“I will have you know, buster, that not a single pair of granny panties are stashed in a drawer somewhere. Do I have some sensible shit? Of course. But I’m not a big fan of stretched out elastic or undies that need suspenders.”
Undies that needed suspenders! He absolutely could not hold in his laughter. She made no secret of her relief when he cracked up. They each might want to ravish the other person, but there was this little issue of their long-time relationship, and jacking each other up was just par for the course. Even in the middle of an audacious seduction.
“Is there a name for what you’re wearing, or is holy fuck good enough?”
She smiled and shook her tits like a burlesque queen. “Holy fuck will do nicely.”
“Turn around.”
“My god, you’re bossy! You do get that this is a performance, right? I’ll turn around when I’m good and ready.”
“Why the wait?”
She actually stomped her bare foot—which made her boobs jiggle. He grinned and crossed his arms. Looking up at her from his position on the couch had a royal command feel to it.
“I’m waiting for something more of a reaction than wide eyes. This shit cost me a bundle,” she whined. “The least you could do is offer up a critique. Is it too tight? Do I look fat? And what about the black? Too much? Would pastel or white be better?”
“You’re joking, right? No? Wait, you mean for real? You’re serious?”
“Don’t be an ass, Robbie.”
She wanted an honest critique? He had to wonder how lewd she was willing to go.
With a cheeky grin, he sat forward and leaned his forearms on his legs. A good vantage point for a macho visual inspection. He gave her one chance to set a limit and asked, “Which do you want to hear? What’s behind door number one is civilized and probably comes off a little like Mr. Darcy rocking a hard-on.”
She snickered, and her face lit with happiness.
“Now, door number two. That would be a different matter. Mr. Darcy would get his ass kicked behind that door.”
“Are we talking Rhett Butler or is Mr. Grey more your style?”
Cheeky wench. “Actually, my dear,” he drawled in a passable Clark Gable, “door number two is where the crude and lewd join raunchy and perverted. It’s a question of degrees whether offense is taken.”
“I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would offend me.”
He studied the triangle of lace that barely covered her mound. Biting the two inches of skin peeking from beneath the black body thing was his new life goal.
“Door number two cranks open and the first thing we focus on is what’s happening with your tits. Not that clarification is needed, but I went with tits right out of the gate to set the tone. Breasts, boobs, globes, all fine words. But you didn’t put that thing on to inspire fine words. Am I right?”
Her snarky curtsey ceded the point to him.
“Give a drooling man some stats, babe. For later, when I’m jerking off to thoughts of you.”
Her arched brow intrigued him. How far was this thing going to go?
Cupping her bounty with both hands, she gave her tits a jostle. “Thirty-eight, almost double D. Depends on the bra.”
“Christ almighty,” he groaned. “Are you interested in hearing what I want to do to your tits?”
“No.” She chuckled. “Surprise me.”
He pointed at the scrap of panties. “Do those things even qualify as underwear? You won’t let me enjoy the back view yet, so I have no idea if we’re talking butt floss or actual coverage. From the front, though, I have to say I like the shrubbery beneath the lace. Very much.”
She was not about to let him off the hook with that and pressed for more. “Do I look fat? Is the black too obvious?”
“If, by obvious, you mean asking for trouble, then, yeah. Big time obvious. And let’s get this fat nonsense off the table. I mean it,” he growled when she rolled her eyes. “Can’t stand lettuce munchers. It seems fake somehow as though dramatically picking at a tiny salad covers up for the stashed bag of Milky Ways.”
She raised her hand to confess, and he laughed because what she said, he already knew. “Kit Kat bars. Preferably the small ones we always had for Halloween. Got a bag in the freezer, a ziplock in my locker at work, and a couple tossed in the nightstand.” She shrugged. “Just in case.”
He met her candy confession with one she’d be familiar with. “Slim Jims and beef jerky. By the pound. Have an auto-delivery. Once a month, a box of gourmet and hard-to-find jerky is delivered. Can’t pass a convenience store without checking out the Slim Jim display.”
“We both have guilty pleasures.”
He slowly looked her up and down. “Some of the guiltiest pleasures have yet to be explored.”
She barely moved a muscle, but he saw her chest beginning to rapidly rise and fall.
“Listen to me,” he grunted in a forceful, attention-getting voice. “You are not fat, so cut that shit out. If you need a compliment to feel confident, that is what I’m here for. Whether you’re decked out in nursing scrubs, yoga pants, jeans, a dress, a bathing suit—doesn’t matter—you’re the sexiest thing on two legs, and it would be my pleasure to assure you of that every day until the end of time.”
Not an outright declaration of intent, but damn close.
“Well, she-it,” she gurgled. Clapping her hands, she gave him a smirk. “Well played, sir. Well played.”
When she clapped like a kid who was about to win a jackpot, Robert smiled. She bounced on her toes a few times, instantly distracting him with her tits.
“Now pay attention, okay? I worked
on this pirouette and everything, but I don’t think I can pull it off more than once without laughing.”
He was not laughing and interjected a lewd reminder of what remained behind door number two. “You won’t be laughing when I spell out what I’d like to do to that ass.”
Her mouth said, “Oh,” but made no sound. She colored slightly but did not look away. He had more than a suspicion that testing the boundaries with Kristal would be a challenge for both of them, but the thought did not displease him one bit.
The slow turn, done on raised toes, was a remarkable sight. So was her outrageous ass in the very sexy and barely there black lace thong. When she was fully turned and came down off her toes, she caressed her butt cheeks and looked back over her shoulder.
“You get one request before I turn around.” She sniggered. “Twerking is not off the table. I even practiced.”
Her playful, mocking tone turned him on even more.
He grabbed the TV remote off the coffee table and tossed it on the floor near her feet. “Can you get that, love? Pick it up, nice and slow. Bending appreciated. Better yet, a little bit of arch and an offer, greatly appreciated.”
She kicked the remote where she wanted and bent over at the waist in a way that gave him a very wicked view of her ass and the hint of black lace covered pussy. At the last second, she had to reach, and it was just enough for a seductive arch that sucked all the air out of his lungs.
When she turned around with the remote, he was less than two steps away. She jolted and then tossed the remote aside. He grabbed her around the waist and forgot about going slow or being gentle. He would worry later about keeping this thing from going too far. Right now, he was going to take up her offer and hope the pleasure did not kill him.
Fisting the hair on the back of her head, he took command and initiated a kiss that was off the charts and carnal in record time. Her hands pawing at his shirt did little to distract him from dominating her mouth. Weeks of desperate make-out sessions had elevated their kissing game. He kept her crushed against his body as he hungrily ravished her mouth. Kristal gave as good as she got.
He barely registered what her hands were up to until his shirt ripped open and his tie nearly strangled off his air supply. Her frantic actions made his heart thump wildly. She growled angrily and tore her mouth away. He wasn’t sure how the tie survived being forcefully yanked.
Her hands on his naked skin changed everything. There was a reason he had refused to grope beneath her clothes. He knew once that shit started, there’d be a real danger of not being able to stop.
He held her wrists as they looked down together and watched while she clawed him from neck to waist. The sensation was incredible. There was nothing tentative about her touch. When she clawed him again, he shuddered, and this time, she put her lips on his shoulder and bit hard.
“Kristal,” he warned with a throaty growl.
“Touch me, please. I need your hands on me, Robert.”
So much conflict and worry rushed him, momentarily overwhelming him. They had reached the Rubicon before either of them applied the brakes. The point of no return was laughing at them in the rear view.
He was absolutely sure of one thing—once they started, there’d be no turning back. He did not have that much control. Not when everything his heart desired was dressed up in black lace.
His heart beat heavily in his chest. If he was going to say something, now might be the only chance. “Are you sure, love? Is this what you want?”
“Yes, Robert. I want to be with you.”
Without some prepared speech or casual remarks in his verbal holster why he asked what he did would remain a mystery.
“What do you need? Tell me how you want to be made love to.”
She looked startled by the question. And then startled led to confused and slowly became what looked like embarrassment.
“Can’t answer that question,” she admitted in a small voice. “I’m not a virgin, Robert,” she quickly assured him. “But if I’m being honest ... making love? Yeah. What’s that?”
Robert was certain that never throughout all of mankind’s history had a man ever been so completely happy to hear what she was saying. Having sex and making love were two entirely different things. If this was a first for her, honesty demanded he admit the same was true for him.
“Understood, honey. That makes us both virgins in the making love category.” He snickered softly and grinned.
Her face lit up with a thousand megawatt smile.
“All right, all right.” He playfully chuckled. “Enough with the feelings share. My dick isn’t interested in any more dialogue.”
She laughed like hell and gave him a shove that made him back up a few steps.
“A dialogue embargo? Well, okay, I guess. But just a few things first.”
He arched a brow and mocked, “Seriously?”
“What?” she drawled. “Think you know everything? Try these two things on for size then.” She held up one finger. “Don’t expect too much. I’m not convinced getting off is part of the deal, so don’t freak out if I don’t come.”
Oh my god, was she ever in for a surprise!
“And second, since you brought your A game, I came prepared. There are condoms in the nightstand. I didn’t have a clue, so I ended up getting a bunch of different ones.”
Now probably was not the time to tell her he had loaded his wallet with the necessary protection. Taking care of Kristal was his responsibility now.
He glanced around her place, noted the locked front door, and went for it. This was always going to happen, so now that the moment was upon them, he was through waiting. Without warning, he moved quickly to hoist her over his shoulder. She squealed with surprise, and his palm slapped her ass. Marching to her bedroom, he spelled out some things he felt were obvious but probably needing voicing.
“You belong to me from here on out. No more pretending this is not exactly how it looks. I’m fully prepared to push the limits, so don’t even think about denying my place with you at my side.”
She was in midair when she squawked, “What limits?” He tore off his shirt and unbuckled his pants while she squirmed on the bed. Every second of her struggle to recover from the unceremonious, one-point, physical free throw was worth the watch.
When she swung her legs off the edge of the bed and yelped, he stopped lowering his zipper.
“Dammit, Robert! Ya can’t manhandle the delicates. Shit. My basque ripped.”
“Your what?”
“Basque, you cave dweller. B-a-s-q-u-e. It’s a French word and a lovely one.”
His eyes drifted to her fingers fussing around the cups of the sexy garment. The center had given way and started a rip that was getting worse. The delicate garment was no match for her voluptuous breasts. Soon, the basque thing would shred in two.
He finished it with a hefty yank, freeing her curves. “Sorry,” he grunted with eyes that remained glued to tits worthy of a song. Or a Broadway play. “I’ll buy you another.”
She shielded her naked body with a demure placement of hands, but like the lingerie, her small hands were no match for Kristal’s killer tits. It looked more like she was trying to entice than to conceal.
He stepped up and separated her knees so he could move in close. After caressing her face, he lifted her chin with his fingers. Her cheeks were flaming red, but in her eyes, he saw why. She was aroused. Fiercely aroused, if he was reading things right.
“You have a choice to make. Keep those gorgeous tits covered or finish getting me out of my pants. Up to you.”
Her eyes went from clear blue to a smoky hue. Where were those condoms again?
“The big reveal, huh?” she growled.
Was she referring to her tits or his dick?
Wasting no time, his sexy lover abandoned guard duty on her body and went straight to his pants. For some reason, he half expected fumbling and hesitation, but with incredible ease, she had the zipper down and his slacks pushed to
the floor.
He stepped from the forgotten slacks and kicked them away. His briefs were barely doing the job of covering him.
She was studying him. He growled low and deep. “That’s for you.”
With tentative fingers, she lightly traced his swollen flesh through the dark gray cotton. He grabbed her wrist and said, “Nuh-uh.”
“But, Robert,” she cooed.
He gave her the 4-1-1 in a way she would understand. “If you go further, I’m either going to embarrass myself or make you suck my dick. And if that happens, this is over faster than I’m comfortable with. I plan to acquaint you with your ability to orgasm, and at least one of those times you come, I need to be deep inside you so I can feel every throb.”
There was not much more to say, so he began kissing her until she pulled him onto the bed. He could kiss her all day, but right now, he needed a tactile introduction to her almost double D’s.
Kristal growled a complaint when he left her lips. Mauling her neck until she softened and writhed in his arms, he smiled against her skin when she raked her nails down his back.
How could this exquisitely responsive goddess never have had an orgasm during sex? The clue was in her answer. She had never been made love to.
Robert kissed, licked, and nibbled his way up and down her neck, along her jawline, and side to side on shoulders that revealed a needy shiver. By the time his hands cupped her outrageous tits, both nipples were peaked. They were lovely and begged for his tongue, so he went for it with gusto.
Trembling, she clawed at him and demanded more—a demand he was happy to meet. Just as he suspected, they had similar appetites. She moaned, gasped, and whimpered while he devoured her flesh with lips, teeth and tongue.
Aggressively kissing his way to her navel, he smelled her excitement and nearly burst out of his briefs. Roaring with building lust, he rose to his knees, grabbed her face and pulled her up until he was in a position to dominate and ravish her mouth. She clung to his wrists and gave herself over to his passions.
The kissing was not enough. Not when her pussy called to him. He debated ripping the flimsy thong to shreds but changed his mind. He wanted her to offer it, and to do that, she had to be the one to take her panties off.
Forbidden: A Sinful Shares Romance Page 9