Wonderland

by Bridget Midway

  That was what she had convinced herself during the hours she’d locked herself up in the suite. That she and Carson just got caught up in it, after not seeing each other for so long and everybody at the resort having sex around them like the end of the world was coming. Well, apparently that was supposed to happen today according to the Mayan calendar. It was also supposed to happen in October of last year. And oh well for man’s calendar of events.

  “I think you’re wrong, sugar-lips.” He reached out a hand, and taking hers from the couch cushion, he stroked her fingers lightly.

  She looked at their hands, his strong blunt fingers touching her slender ones, and remembered those digits inside of her, touching her and bringing her to spine-arching completion.

  “How do you know?”

  He tugged her hand. She lifted her gaze and met his. She could barely see his eyes now. His lids were lowered, giving him a dreamy expression.

  “Because once I hit puberty, you became an obsession for me. First it was your lips. You smiled at me one day like you always did and I couldn’t stop staring at your mouth. Seeing how plump and full your lips were. I wanted to taste them and find out if they were as sugary-sweet as they looked, like a ripe plum.”

  His voice was low, seductive, teasing her senses. She’d wondered why when they were alone he’d teased her and began to call her sugar-lips. Never when others were around, only when the two of them were by themselves, sitting on the grass under the tree in his front yard as they talked for hours.

  “They are.”

  She didn’t know if she should thank him for the compliment or not, so she sat quietly, listening to his youthful confessions. She was thankful to find out that she hadn’t just imagined that they were going to kiss that night. That possibly he too had been feeling the shift and change in their relationship, even though neither of them acted on it. He had been a good friend and she had feared ruining that.

  At some point during high school junior year, she’d stopped watching Drew and started staring at Carson, but she would have never confessed that to her friends. Hell, she never truly admitted it to herself, always making excuses for why she was focusing on the younger brother.

  “But my fantasy didn’t stop there,” he continued.

  He fell silent for a moment and the only thing heard in the room was the ticking clock on the wall and the hissing of the gas flames. His eyes were closed now; she thought that possibly he’d fallen asleep, but he started talking again. Making more erotic confessions.

  “Ask me what I thought about, Ryanne.” He played with her fingers again.

  Just that simple touch was driving her to distraction. Every movement sent heat rushing up her arm and journeying down her body.

  “Ask me.” His demand was low but firm. He opened his eyes.

  “What did you think about, Carson?” Her gaze was held by his.

  “I’d fantasize for hours in my room, just daydreaming about your pussy. I wanted to taste it. See how sweet it was. I thought about you naked and spread out for me as I licked your pussy for hours.”

  Her eyes closed as she sighed. Cream poured from her sex, saturated her now swollen and throbbing outer lips and drenched her panties. His words became the brush of a master artist, stroking and painting a picture so vivid it robbed her of her breath. Stole her sense and had her on the verge of an orgasm. If she just squeezed her thighs together she knew she’d come, right there on the couch with her childhood friend touching her hand. So she sat still, didn’t move.

  She knew if he pulled her to him, she’d go willingly into his arms and surrender herself. Hell, all he had to do was call her name one more time and she’d crawl across the couch to get to him.

  But he didn’t call her name. He said nothing. She noticed his hand was no longer caressing her own. When she opened her eyes, she saw him—asleep. There was no mistaking it; his head hung to the side at an awkward angle and his mouth was slightly parted.

  Dropping her head back against the couch, she let out a low growl of frustration. Leave it to him to get her all worked up, finally ready to complete the deed with him, and then fall into a drunken stupor.

  She should wake his ass up and kick him out, not caring if he fell asleep in the hallway. But she didn’t, nor would she do it. He was still her friend. An aggravating one, but one still the same. Getting up, she roused him enough to help him stretch out on the couch. Then she pulled off his shoes and draped the afghan blanket over him. Lowering the lights so that only the fire lit the room, she took her sexually frustrated self off to bed.

  * * * *

  Carson felt like he’d hibernated for a year. His mind was fuzzy about the previous night’s events and he was groggy. Lying still for a moment, he tried to piece together the puzzle from the night before. He recalled being disappointed that Ryanne was avoiding him when she’d sent him a note telling him she wasn’t going to be at dinner and would see him later. In his disappointment he’d started drinking with Phillip and the ever-present crowd that followed his friend, a new group every day. Phillip had just found out that he’d grabbed a marketing contract for a new up and coming pop artist. They’d started drinking in celebration, but Carson wasn’t sure what the drinking continued as.

  He remembered having a burning desire to see Ryanne, and it just so happened that her room number had been written on the note given to him. He thought he recalled making it to her room, even talking to her, but then everything in his mind spun into a familiar fantasy from his past and he couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.

  Maybe I need more sleep. I’m sure there’s something I probably need to apologize to her about. Even if just showing up to her suite drunk.

  Burrowing down further into the warmth of the blanket, he realized something was off. Through the days he and Phillip had been at the resort, he’d always gone to bed alone. Even after being propositioned in direct and raunchy ways, he’d still found a way out of it. Evidently, that hadn’t been the case last night.

  Because two things were for sure: he was naked, and there was a womanly form in front of him. Correction—he was spooning with a woman. He was currently cupping a breast in one hand and her top thigh in the other. She smelled familiar but, still out of sorts, he couldn’t place her scent.

  Afraid of who he’d find, he slowly opened his eyes. He saw the bone-straight jet-black hair and inhaled deeply and his body announced, with urgent recognition, who was in his arms. Ryanne.

  His cock stretched between them as more fragments of memory came rushing back. They merged and broke apart, reminding him of them at the pool and them at the door and them on the couch. He recalled a discussion about nipples. Ryanne’s nipples? He didn’t know, but it seemed to make sense, maybe.

  He recalled the strong desire to kiss her lips, those sugary-sweet treats. Other erotic images assailed him, of him licking her pussy, her wet, swollen lips parting for his pleasure.

  Swallowing, he tried to bring forth her taste. If he’d spent hours eating out the woman of his dreams, he sure enough wanted to wake up with her flavor coating his tongue. But…nothing. Just the stale aftertaste of alcohol.

  Shit. If I fucked Ryanne and I was too drunk to even recall the damn details…figures. Burying his face in her neck, he growled.

  The body next to him stiffened at this sound.

  Had she been drunk too? He vaguely recalled there had been wine…

  “Ryanne?” he whispered, knowing she was awake now.

  “Carson?” she questioned. “How did you get in my bed?”

  He sighed, causing strands of her hair to flutter. “I don’t remember much. Sorry.”

  “Are you naked?”

  He frowned. What kind of question was that? Of course he was naked. Unless maybe they’d had sex so quickly he hadn’t undressed all the way. It was best for him to go with what he knew. “I always sleep naked, sugar-lips.”

  She slapped her palm against her face.

  “Look, Ryanne. You’re going to
have to fill me in on last night’s sexcapade. Please tell me I pleased you and didn’t just drive into you like some randy teenage boy.”

  “Sexcapade?” She glanced over her shoulder. “We didn’t have sex last night.”

  He rolled her to her back with his hand at her chest. “Are you sure?”

  He had some pretty vivid memories dancing around in his head. They were too real, almost tangible.

  “Yes. I think I’d recall having sex with you—with anyone—last night.”

  That would explain why she was in a nightgown.

  However, he took offense at hearing her talking about anyone. His body tensed with the thought of another man loving Ryanne. He had no right to lay claim to her. She was her own individual person, but he wanted to.

  Lying so close to her, he could see the small beauty mark below her left eye in the dawn light pouring in from the window. He lifted his hand and lightly brushed it.

  “We’re not talking about anyone else. Just me and you, sugar-lips.”

  Something in her eyes flashed and she sucked in a soft breath. Recognition of his words.

  He wondered if he’d ever told her why he’d given her the nickname. But he didn’t want to dwell on his youthful dreams when he had the real live woman warm in his arms—and in a bed.

  “Carson.” His name came out as a caution from her lips. “I think we should step back before things get out of hand.”

  From the mole, his fingers moved along her silky golden skin until he caressed her jawline. “Like yesterday in the pool.”

  She licked her lips.

  His cock grew impressively harder.

  “Yes.”

  “I like when things get out of hand. I like when you stop using that smart brain of yours…” He tapped her forehead. “…and just let go.”

  She placed both her hands on his shoulders, but before she could push him away he caressed the side of her neck and didn’t stop until he reached the center of her breasts.

  “Don’t you want to let go, baby?”

  Her heart beat a rapid tempo against his fingertips. Her hands squeezed his shoulders.

  She was trying to restrain herself. He knew it, because he knew Ryanne. Always analytical and independent. Considering every possibility until the right one was determined.

  Cupping a breast, he squeezed and flicked his thumb across her nipple.

  She gasped and arched up against him.

  “Let go. Don’t think. Don’t try to figure this out. Just feel.” Leaning down, he took her mouth in a passionate kiss. Using his lips and tongue he baited her to open to him. He knew in order to push Ryanne past all of her mental boundaries he had to make her step outside of her norm. Outside of herself.

  He pinched her nipple, taking it between his finger and thumb, and then he tugged on it.

  She gasped and he dipped between her lips and claimed her. Over and over again he drank from her, pulling her tongue into his mouth and suckling her until she was squirming beneath him.

  The kiss went on as he pulled the satin gown up to reveal her breasts. Leaving her giving mouth, he lowered his body until he was face to chest with her. “You have beautiful breasts.”

  Palming them, he loved how they filled his hands just right with none left over. Like she was made for him. Berry-dark nipples were hard and eager, reaching for his mouth. Obliging, he opened his mouth wide and took in as much as he could. Flicking her peak with the tip of his tongue, he pressed it to the roof of his mouth, loving the taste and feel of her.

  She palmed the back of his head, her nails grazing his scalp as she moaned his name.

  Moving from one breast to the other, he gave it the same treatment, as her aroused scent greeted his nose and taunted him. He’d thought about the sexual taste of Ryanne for so long, it made him shake with desire.

  Raising his head, he held her nipple tight in his mouth until it popped out loudly. Leaning up on his knees, he looked down at the beautiful woman before him. She looked beguiling, on the bed with her purple gown bunched up below her chin, baring her breasts to him. He loved seeing her nipples damp and erect from his mouth. She wore black panties with tiny yellow roses stitched across the top. They arched so high on her hips the material cupped her sex like a lover. He didn’t miss that the crotch of them was wet where juices had soaked through. He took pride in noting how much she’d enjoyed his kisses.

  “You’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She rolled her bottom lip into her mouth and lowered her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she appeared to gain her courage when she gazed back up at him again. “Thank you, Carson.”

  Running his hands up her smooth legs, he enjoyed watching her wiggle and sigh at his touch. He liked knowing how he affected her.

  Her gaze caressed him as it moved from his face, down his torso, until it stopped at his cock.

  He stayed there for a moment, letting her take in her fill of him. Wrapping his hand around his stiff member, he pumped it from root to directly below the crown. She licked her lips, and he almost came. A shudder coursed through him and he stroked himself again as he exhaled, keeping himself together. “This is what you do to me, sugar-lips. Do you like what you see?”

  “Yes.”

  Grazing the tip with his thumb, he collected the pre-cum and then leaned forward. He saw her eyes widen with curiosity. Swiping his thumb over her bottom lip, leaving his essence, he waited a heartbeat. Two beats. Watching to see what she would do.

  Her delicate pink tongue came out and licked her lip, clearing it of his dew before it disappeared back into her mouth.

  “Shit,” he growled, before he leaned down and took her mouth in a fierce kiss. When he pulled his lips away, they were both breathless.

  “Nightgown off,” he ordered. He could have taken it off himself, but he needed her to be a participant in the endeavor. That when it was over, a long time from now, they both would not be under any misunderstanding that she had wanted this just as much as he.

  She only hesitated for a moment. Staring at him with those lovely chocolate-brown eyes, she pulled the gown up and over her head and allowed it to slip from her fingers to the floor.

  He might have kissed her fiercely, but he wasn’t going to fuck her quickly. No. He was going to take his time with Ryanne. Get to know every inch of her body.

  Taking hold of her panties, he inched them down her legs until she could bend her legs up and assist with him removing them. Tossing them over his shoulder, he gripped her knees and parted her thighs. There she lay with breasts high, a narrow waist, firm but slim thighs, and her pussy puffy and moist. Her labia were so swollen they were open and shameless revealing the cream coating her sex and her erect clit.

  “Better than anything I’ve ever imagined,” he confessed.

  “Good. A girl likes to think she can beat a fantasy. Even one of herself.” She gave him a coy smile, her eyes heavy with lust.

  He chuckled. “Oh, you do. Now, if you don’t mind, I plan to discover the delights of conquering the rest of that fantasy.” He wasn’t sure how much he had revealed about his teenage musings when he was drunk, but he would make sure that by the time he finished with her, she fully comprehended his desires.

  “If I would have known yesterday that you kept your pussy bare and smooth, I would have buried my face in your sex on the side of that pool and I wouldn’t have cared if the entire Marching Tar Heels Band had come through. There’d have been no stopping me from tasting you.”

  Her body quivered in response as he stared at her.

  Sliding down onto his stomach, he encircled her thighs, cupping them in his hands. With his nose he touched her core and dragged it up to her clit as he inhaled her scent and let her sexual liquid paint him.

  Her spicy-sweet scent was potent and beckoning. He loved it. Stabbing his tongue deep into her opening, he took his first deep taste of her.

  Damn, she was more succulent than the finest steak, more juicy than the ripest fruit, and more intoxicati
ng than perfectly aged wine. And he wanted more.

  Ryanne moaned, serenading his act with her pleasure.

  Flattening his tongue, he followed the same path his nose had taken. Once at her clit, he circled the stiff bud, loving how she said his name on a whimper. Holding her thighs tight, he kept her open to him. Drawing one lip at a time into his mouth, he sucked the cream from them, then dipped into her hot cunt searching for more.

  He couldn’t get enough of her. Waving his tongue up and down her slit, he felt her legs start to tremble. She was close, but he had plans to take her further. Much further.

  He swirled around her clit, fondling the sides, stroking the little pocket of pleasurable nerves.

  She palmed the back of his head with both hands and thrust her hips up, pressing her pussy to his mouth. If he could have given her words of encouragement he would have, but he refused to stop tasting her.

  “Car-sss-on…”

  His name came out brokenly as she erupted against his tongue, coming in long sweet waves. He continued to lick and suckle her, pulling at her orgasm as long as possible.

  When she calmed, he released her legs. “On your hands and knees.”

  Her face was relaxed from pleasure. “What?”

  Tapping the outside of a thigh, he said, “Turn over. I’m not done.”

  Ryanne felt too languid to question him. Getting up in position, she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see him moving up behind her to fill her with his shaft. Instead, Carson placed a hand in the center of her back, guiding her shoulders to the mattress, as he used his other hand to widen her knees. Once she was situated like he wanted, he spread her cheeks and began to lick her again, this time from her clit to the sensitive opening of her ass.

  Hell and snowflakes. She never would have guessed the tight ring would be so responsive. But the swipe of his tongue made her toes curl. In this new position, he ignited her pleasure again, drawing her satisfaction to the brink. Using his teeth, he nibbled and scraped her clit, not causing her pain but sending small jolts of delight through her body. Her core clenched as another knot of need rested there.