“Yes, but I won’t be for long,” he grunts in response.
“Make that two whip lashes. You’re wasting our time. If my Kitten doesn’t complete fifteen orgasms because you interrupted us, Amanda, so help me. You’ll be punished again. Now go.” And with that Amanda starts to wail her distress. I can almost taste her tears, yet I don’t seem to care one bit. If Wes thinks it fair, then it’s an appropriate punishment. I trust his judgment.
It doesn’t take long for her sobs to die down as she’s carted to the dungeon, wherever that may be. “You still with us, Kitten?” Wes’s tone is back to being soft and sexy, just the way I like it. Part of me wants to thank him for putting her in her place. Another part of me knows that’s rude and out of line. So I keep quiet instead, loving this floaty feeling that has me drifting in peace.
“I think she’s just about to hit a subby high,” Master Luca notes with an air of amusement.
“Then I suppose we should make her higher. I didn’t know she liked a little pain.”
“Agreed,” Master Luca says, and that’s when it all starts again. My blood roars to life, leaving behind the peace as I’m thrown into the pit of unabashed ecstasy.
Tongues, fingers, lips, and teeth graze me from top to bottom, loving me, pleasing me, driving me utterly mad. With hard thrusts, Wes’s fingers plunge in and out of my depths as Master Luca licks my ass cheeks and glides one slick finger into my rear hole. It burns, and I scream in exquisite pain as he breaches deeper. Once he’s inside, I can feel both his and Wes’s fingers dancing simultaneously, creating an otherworldly rhythm that leaves me a quivering mess.
“That’s it, Kitten.” Wes rakes his teeth over my nipples, one to the next and back again. “You’re so fucking wet.” He fucks me harder, sucking my pert bud into his mouth. Groaning around the tip, he seizes my pleasure. More thrashing and toe curling carries forth. My eyes daze completely, staring at the ceiling as I lose all ability to do anything but feel. They take every ounce of me away, stripping me bare for ecstasy and ecstasy alone.
Not in control of my body any longer, I come at their will, my pussy and ass clenching around their digits. “That’s it, Kitten.” Wes kisses my nipple, fingering my center into a state of constant detonation.
“Three,” Wes groans in praise as I come apart again. Over and over, he calls them out, as I shatter to bits before their very eyes.
By number ten, I’m sinking, and Master Luca is holding me up, his finger never leaving my needy asshole as Wes laps my clit. “Oh yes, Kitten, come on. Come for me.” He speaks around my bundle of nerves, his teeth nibbling it. And that’s all it takes for me to lose myself in him, in everything. Wailing a hoarse cry, I tremble through the climax. Relentlessly, he continues to capture every last drop of my delight. Then carts me straight into another as he suckles me from one indulgent plateau to the next.
Eleven slips into twelve, then into thirteen, and by then, I can’t even remember my name.
“You’re doin’ great, beautiful.” Master Luca’s hand around my stomach is sturdy, yet gentle. Those plump lips kiss my neck. “Just a few more.”
Wanting to please them, needing to make them proud, I offer him a weak nod. “That’s our girl,” he praises. It feels amazing to be cherished like this. An even deeper warmth of happiness twirls around in my gut, dancing the tango with the ball of vibrant satiation that’s taken up residency there for the time being.
Master Luca slides his pre-cum soaked dick up between my ass cheeks. “I’m gonna come on you, beautiful,” he grinds out just before soaking my back in spurt after spurt of his release. It’s enough to tip the scales, driving me into another fit of climatic elation. Riding his peak out with mine, he sucks on my neck, his hot pants matching the pitch of his slowing hips.
“So perfect. Now it’s time for you to finish,” he whispers, pulling away. “Thank you.” One final kiss and he’s gone, leaving my hot flesh cooled by his cum.
Before I can even process what’s happening, Wes is standing at my front, cupping the nape of my tired neck, so I’m forced to look him in the eye. They’re glistening with desire mixed with something else that I can’t put my finger on.
Using the back of his hand, he swipes my juices from his face with a charming smirk. “You’re done, Kitten. All fifteen. But you’re gonna go for me just one more time, and you’re going to look me in the eye when you do.”
I want to fight and tell him that it’s too intimate to watch him when I shatter. But all thought is lost when Wes leans in and claims my mouth hard. Shoving his thick tongue between my startled lips, he massages my essence into my taste buds, and we groan together. I fight against my restraints wanting to touch him. Stepping closer, his body molds to mine, tits to stomach, feet to feet. A firm palm grips my ass cheek for a moment before slipping between my parted thighs. Without pause, he delves two fingers into my dripping hole, and I wail into his mouth, my pussy throbbing around his digits. He smiles against my lips swirling his tongue with mine, his breath pumping in harsh spurts. Fuck, he’s incredible. A concealed thickness jabs my belly. He groans once more, thrusting his hips to mine, driving his erection against my stomach. I whimper, desperate for him to release it. To use it on me. To replace his fingers with it. I want him.
Sensing my need, Wes deepens our kiss until I’m breathless and my brain is spinning. Then he sucks every last ounce of energy from me when his fingers begin their punishing pace, fucking my hole like they own it. His mouth swallows all of my cries, my whimpers, my moans, my everything as he kisses me, his tongue claiming this part while his fingers claim the other. I float into the sky, feeling lighter than air as my sensitive, sweet spot is massaged with masterful precision. Light bursts behind my eyes, riding on the razor's edge.
Wes tears his lips from mine, and we share a dual gasp. “It’s time to come,” he commands, curling his fingers just right to catapult me over the threshold. A violent orgasm rips me in two, and I nearly lose consciousness as I scream through it. Heeding his words, I evaporate into tiny particles of quivering bliss while keeping my eyes locked on his. Grunting, his hips thrust against my belly once more, and a roar that couldn’t be conceived as anything other than relief erupts from deep within his chest, as his hips kick forward. A sudden dampness slickens my belly. Something clicks in my muddled brain. He just came in his jeans. The thought rocks a strange tremor through me; then everything goes limp. My arms drop, knees buckle, unable to hold myself up any longer. Everything feels like a million pounds. I need to rest. I need sleep. I need Wes.
“Whoa, Kitten.” His fingers slip out, and he hefts me into his embrace as my head lulls onto his shoulder. He gently caresses my back. Out of nowhere, Master Luca appears and unhooks my restraints. Wes lifts my noodly form into his arms and carries me silently over to the couch behind the rope where he drops us, draping me over his lap.
“Here,” the familiar voice of Master Luca says just before a warm, soft blanket covers my naked flesh. I curl my face into Wes’s chest, inhaling his delicious scent as the Sandman beckons me.
Sprinkled kisses dance atop my damp hair. “Rest now, Kitten. We’ll go home soon. You did beautifully.” The weighted happiness in Wes’s voice serenades me, warming me from the inside out. My eyes drift closed, and I cuddle his soothing warmth all the way into dreamland as he talks to Master Luca and others, never letting me go.
This is … lo—happiness.
Day 12
Blinking my bleary eyes, a face resting on a pillow a mere foot from mine comes into focus. I gasp loudly. What is he doing in my bed? Covering my mouth, I yawn, taking in Wes’s messy hair and soft bedroom eyes that are staring back at me. He really is too damn sexy, especially now with a crease on his cheek from sleeping and that scruff on his face. I wonder how that’d feel against my inner thighs this morning? Oh. Shit! I can’t believe I just thought that. A flash of last night’s events invade my mind for a millisecond. I had that mouth on my pussy, those fingers inside it. I clench, basking in
the residual ache. You know you’ve had a life-changing night when you’re sore in the morning. And damn, if I don’t hurt everywhere.
A slow smile creeps into the corners of Wes’s lips. “Good morning, Kitten.” Leaning in, he brushes those lips over mine. My breath falters just before I start grinning like a stupid school girl. I re-cover my mouth with my hand, not wanting to knock him over with my dragon breath, and so I can hide this childlike giddiness.
For whatever reason, I’m blushing. Perhaps, it’s because I’ve yet to wake up in bed with a man, for ages. A good five years, at least. And I know for certain I never had a magical night with any of those guys. Their sex was average at best. A few times, I never even came. I definitely can’t say that about Wes. Although he did have the help of a talented Master.
“Ummm … Morning? What are you—”
Wes shoves my hand to the side to kiss me again. I try to pull away, but he attacks my mouth with zeal, groaning his deprivation, hand cupping the back of my neck. My nipples harden between us. I moan in my throat at his soft, pliable lips shifting deliciously over mine, and the way his scent surrounds us in a cocoon of heat. His tongue sweeps across my seam, and I jerk to, snapping our connection before I climb on top of him and have my way. But he doesn’t go too far, as his body slides closer and he grabs my thigh, hooking it over his hip. My breasts touch his chest. An obvious boner folds between us. The dampness beading on the head clings to my belly like a tiny kiss.
“I’ve wanted to do that for hours.” He pecks the corner of my mouth. I’m not sure if he can help himself. He can’t stop staring. It’s both adorable and a little scary. I can feel the tethered connection between us now. It was there before, but now, the air surrounding us feels a lot different. Something’s changed.
Seizing the moment, not letting our intimacy go to waste, I lay my hand on his side. His silky skin is firm underneath my palm. He shivers against my touch, and I feel it pass through his entire body as his eyes temporarily close. As if he’s trying to retain control … or perhaps it’s something else entirely.
“You’ve been lying here for hours watching me, haven’t you?” I ask.
The sudden pink to his cheeks is answer enough. “I wanted to sleep with you. After last night, I couldn’t help it. I … I’ve never come like that before. It was….”
“Sexy,” I finish for him.
The pink cheeks swap to red, and Wes glances away, clearly out of his depths. “I was gonna say childish. What kind of thirty-eight year old man comes like he’s seventeen all over again?”
“One who’s turned on enough?”
Head slightly turned, Wes gazes into the distance, deep in thought. He shrugs. “Apparently so. You slept on me all night at the club. I felt you breathing. Even felt your heartbeat against my hand.” His voice sounds different, like he’s unsure about how he feels. “I’ve never held a woman like that … ever. Not even my wife. I loved her. But she was never one to let her guard down. Then, ten months to the day, after we were married, Garrett came and we never hugged after that. He had so many problems. We were both stressed. I was working two bartending jobs just to feed us.” He chuckles humorlessly. “I’d forgotten how it was to truly hold someone. So when I carried you into the house last night, I brought you to bed. Then, I couldn’t leave.” He shrugs for the second time. “I don’t know why. But I couldn’t. I put you under the covers, took a shower, and then slid in next to you. It just sorta happened. I was hard the rest of the night. Barely slept a wink. So I watched you sleep instead.”
Yep. It's official. These feelings between us are real. And right now, I’m melting into a puddle of pink gooey something. It’s equally warm and hot. Soft and hard. Sweet and sexy. It’s … special.
Wes keeps talking, and I keep listening as I bury myself deeper into him. “I hope that’s not too creepy. I don’t think I’ve watched anyone but Garrett sleep before. My employees don’t stay the night. They complete their duties and leave. I’m not one for…” He trails off.
My body goes flush against his. Face tucked into the crook of his neck, I breathe him in. His erection kicks between us, begging for attention. So I give him just that as I wrap my fingers around his silken girth. My middle finger and thumb barely touch. Grinding himself into my palm, Wes groans. It’s bottomless and erotic as hell. Heeding his call, my pussy quivers at the sound, growing wetter.
“You’re not one for what?” Nuzzling my nose under his jaw, I prompt him to finish his thought. His palm skims over my side, sliding around my back where he holds me tight.
“I grew up a geeky loner, Kitten.” Lost in thought, his fingers draw feather-light circles just above my butt. “I didn’t have many friends. We were poor. My dad didn’t even know I existed until I was four. My mother told me I’d met him once. He has an older son. One that he wanted. So I never saw him again. He’s dead now. But I never knew him or my brother.”
“Is your brother dead?” I whisper, not wanting to deter him.
He shakes his head. “No. He’s the president of the club I just signed the gun contract with.”
He’s what?!
I couldn’t withhold the shock from my voice if I tried. “Your brother is part of the Sacred Sinners?”
Holy cow.
Faintly, he nods. “Yup. His name’s Richard. Apparently, they call him Big Dick. A few years ago, my mother passed. She’d begged me to reach out to him before she died, but I didn’t.”
He sounds sad. Maybe he regrets that decision. I know if I had a sibling floating around in this world, I’d wonder about them. I don’t know how he’s lived thirty-eight years without speaking to Richard. However, if he’s anything like Nash or some of his club brothers, maybe keeping his distance is the right choice. Or was … considering he just got into bed with that club. A club my brother’s in bed with, too, but in an entirely different way. Now that’s crazy when you get to thinking about it. Wes and Nash are indirectly linked. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought about that sooner.
“What happened to her?” I ask, referring to his mother.
Frankly, I’m not even sure why we’re lying in bed, naked in each other’s arms, having a conversation this deep. Then again I kind of love it. I’ve never experienced pillow talk before. There’s something sweet about it. Truthfully, I find myself wanting to know everything about Wes. And right now, he’s showing me a part of himself that I’m willing to bet most people have never seen. That’s a precious gift I’m not going to squander.
“Breast cancer,” he grouses, as if the words leave a bad taste in his mouth. “Third time’s a charm. She was first diagnosed when I was four. That’s why I’d met my father. She needed to know that if she didn’t make it that I’d be cared for. He blew her off. Said that he’d kill her or me if we ever tried to speak to him again. So I helped care for her from one remission to the next. Worked some sort of odd job since I was ten because she wasn’t able to strip anymore. The diner’s money wasn’t cutting it, and her hours were scarce. If we were lucky, we could afford to eat once a day, sharing a can of beans, corn, or whatever. Most of the time, she went without so I could have that extra slice of bread. He never sent us a thing. Never helped my mother at all. I don’t remember him, but I remember her. Every part of her. She was beautiful, even before she died.” Love shines within his closing testament.
She sounds like she loved him very much. Too bad his dad was a complete asshole. Wes had a hard life. I can’t say my life was a walk in the park, but I had two parents and a brother. I always had food on the table and a roof over my head. From the sounds of it, Wes was lucky to have much of anything. I had a few friends like that while growing up. They were dirt poor. They lived in houses that should have been condemned, and ate food that I wouldn’t even feed my dog, if I had one. It’s an unfortunate existence. I’m just glad that Wes has made something out of himself, even after all the obstacles he’s had to overcome in the process. He’s an inspiration.
“She was blonde, wasn’t sh
e?” I ask, genuinely wanting to know more.
Price, one of Nash’s club brother’s and a philosophy professor at Trish’s university, has been known to preach time and time again about how men seek women who resemble their mother. While women want men who resemble their father. It’s not always about looks. Maybe that’s why both Nash and Wes appeal to me? Why I care for them both? It’s not ideal, sure. But that’s the way it is. Nash reminds me of my biological father. He was strong, defiant, a bad boy with a love for only one woman. I’ve heard the stories. Seen the pictures. Then there’s Wes. He’s very much like Patrick, my step-dad. He’s smart, articulate, charming, and in his own way, loving.
Wes smiles. It’s not a happy smile. It’s one that says he’s thinking about his mother—nostalgic. He nods. “She was.”
“So that’s why you prefer blondes. Because of your mother,” I remark, evenly. Trying to ignore the dull pain in my chest for voicing it aloud. I hate that he prefers blondes like Nash does. Some people don’t have types. These men do. I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt. It does.
Wes’s hand freezes on my back, and he shifts his head to look me straight in the eyes. The spot between his eyebrows is pinched, lips pursed into a thin line. Shit. He’s irritated. “Before my ex, I only dated brunettes, which included her. Then she went and ruined them for me … until you showed up to the track years ago, wearing those purple racing boots with your hair in a ponytail. You were all fire and ice from the moment I laid eyes on you. Barking orders to your guys. Them falling in line. Yet, there was this softness to you when you hugged them. I got hard in an instant. Couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire weekend. I fucked so many faceless holes, picturing you the entire time.”
My mouth falls open as a burst of butterflies fill my soul. What did he just say? A boner? Fucking faceless holes while thinking about me? Oh. My. God. I can’t… How does he remember that day? I barely remember that day. It was years ago. My first race on the circuit. I was nervous as hell. He was there with his blondes. There were a lot more of them back then. Ten, at least. He was parading them around in their bikini tops, kissing on them, fondling them. They were giving just as good as they were getting. It was a show nobody could miss, even though I wanted to. He was all money and ego. It made me sick.
Nowhere (Crimson Outlaws MC #1) Page 21