Little else held her interest as he ate at her. Devoured her with a single-minded intensity that took her breath away.
Irene groaned as she came. She groaned and moaned and begged him not to stop. He didn’t. He took her over again and again, until she lay exhausted on his tile floor, her breathing ragged, her body trembling.
He pulled her back into the warm water, the bubbles much less than when she’d first gotten in. He held her against his body, stroking her back and arms until her trembling stopped.
“Sorry about that,” he ridiculously apologized. “But all I could think about was going down on you.”
She rested her head in the crook of his neck and sighed. “Anytime. And no apology necessary.”
He tried nothing else, even though she could feel his own unfulfilled lust resting hard and hot against her inner thigh.
Combing her fingers through his hair, she let out a satisfied sigh—and decided to have some fun of her own.
“You know, I read so many books,” he heard her say softly in his ear. Books? She wanted to talk about books now? But he didn’t have the heart to tell her to shut up. He quickly realized talking about books and what she knew gave her a sense of control she probably had in few other areas of her life.
“And,” she went on, “I read this book once written by a young homosexual writer.”
Van frowned, wondering where this particular conversation might be going. With Irene you really never knew.
“It was informational. About how to perform oral sex on men. You know, one man teaching another. It was really fascinating and I’ve always wondered about the techniques he discussed—ow. Ow! You’re squeezing a little hard, Van Holtz.”
Forcing himself to loosen the grip he had on her, Van leaned back a bit and looked at Irene. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. Just remember I bruise easily. Now…where was I?”
“You always wondered about the techniques he discussed.”
“Oh. Yes. That’s right.” She glanced at him under eyelashes he’d never noticed were ridiculously long. Dark brown and long, which contrasted with those ice-blue eyes of hers. But it was the look she gave him and Van knew, in that moment, she was teasing him. Not teasing him in the sense she’d leave him and his poor cock to fend for themselves, but playfully teasing him like a lover would. “Anyway, I found some of the techniques he suggested fascinating, but I didn’t know if any of them could truly produce the response he promised.”
Van gritted his teeth. “And?”
“Well, if you’re willing to be my test subject—ack!”
He didn’t mean to toss her out of the bathtub like that and when she went sliding across the tiles he’d made wet and slippery from tossing her in and out of the water in the first place, he did feel a twinge of guilt. But it didn’t last as his cock took complete control of his brain. Slapping his hands against the edge of the tub, he gave one push and landed nearly five feet away. He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around Irene, and carried her to the bedroom.
He placed her carefully on the floor and walked away, giving them a little distance. He was terrified he’d pounce on her like some unsuspecting rabbit he’d found in his backyard.
Van closed the bedroom door—strictly because he needed something to do with his hands—and leaned against it. Letting out a breath, he looked at her. Let her take the lead, he warned himself.
“So…how do you want to do this?” he asked, and was damn proud of himself for managing that.
But Irene frowned in confusion.
“What? What’s wrong?” Christ, how did he get it wrong so damn fast?
“Aren’t you going to order me?”
“Huh?”
“You know. Tell me what you want.”
Suddenly Van was confused. “I thought you hated it when I bossed you around?”
“I do. Normally. Out there.” She pointed at the door he stood in front of. “But I’ve noticed that my sexual response is heightened when you order me around during intercourse.”
Van stared at her. He didn’t know what to say but he noticed she’d suddenly started to glow…and are those angel wings?
“Oh. Was that rude? I—”
“Quiet, Irene.”
She immediately fell silent and Van had to lock his knees so they wouldn’t buckle.
“Drop the towel.”
She did, slowly letting it slip off her body.
“Come here.”
She hesitated a moment, then slowly walked over to him.
He leaned over a bit, his nose nuzzling her chin and cheek. He breathed in the scent of her. God, she smells good. Irene responded to him, brushing her cheek against his. Her fingers, hesitant at first, slid up his biceps.
Van pressed his lips against her ear and softly ordered, “Now get on your knees, doc.”
Hands on her shoulders, Van eased Irene to her knees. Her breathing increased as she kneeled in front of him, her hands sliding down his thighs.
Van Holtz braced his legs apart and waited. She had the feeling he was letting her make the first move, which she appreciated since she was still evaluating.
Irene stared intently at his penis, analyzing it. It was abnormally big, in her opinion. But not unmanageable. She simply needed to find the best approach.
“You’re thinking too much, doc. You’re not splitting the atom. It’s just my cock.”
“Yes. But even I will admit it’s quite formidable. I only want to ensure the highest level of enjoyment.”
He gave her a slow, easy grin and his eyes seemed to warm while he watched her. “The fact that you care enough to care at all ensures my highest level of enjoyment.”
Irene smiled back, finding it easier to do each time she bothered, and then looked back at Van Holtz’s…well…cock. Because, to be honest, “penis” simply wasn’t doing it any justice.
Giving a mental shrug, Irene leaned forward, swiping her tongue across the head of his cock. His entire body jerked and Irene gave a little hum of surprise. She didn’t expect his response to be so…intense. Her confidence boosted a bit, Irene brought her hands up, smoothing them against the insides of his thighs, her fingers teasing the scar left behind from the knife she’d impaled him with, while she dragged her tongue from base to tip.
Van moaned, his eyes closed, and braced his feet farther apart. His fingers dug deep into her hair, silently urging her on. And, with another mental shrug, Irene wrapped her mouth around the tip and swallowed him whole.
She took him to the root on her first pass and Van let out a shuddering laugh. She pulled back, sucking hard while the tip of her tongue swirled around the head, before swallowing him again. Van let out another moan, this one loud and long. Talk about encouragement. Irene swallowed him again and she could feel him in the back of her throat.
“God, Irene,” he gasped out. “You learned this from a book?”
Uh…actually, she hadn’t really thought about the book since she’d started. She’d been too busy thinking about him. So, at the moment, she ran purely on instinct.
Which seemed to be quite effective.
Sliding her hands up his thighs, she took hold of his balls. She squeezed while she sucked and the hands in her hair gripped the strands tighter.
Irene continued to deep-throat him on every pass until Van tugged on her hair, forcing her to look up at him without releasing his cock.
“Stop, baby,” he panted desperately. “I’m about to come.”
Frowning, Irene debated whether to release him. For some ungodly reason, she wanted to see this through. All the way through.
“Irene?” One hand released her hair and touched her cheek. She pushed it away and deep-throated him again.
Van shook his head, staring at her in shock. “Jesus, Irene…”
She squeezed his balls again and sucked hard. He shouted a curse seconds before he exploded in her mouth. Irene swallowed, continuing to suck until he begged her to stop.
She did, pulling back slowly.<
br />
Van’s head fell back against the door, appearing exhausted, and Irene looked up at him, curious. “Did that work for you?”
His eyes snapped open and he stared down at her, still panting. “Huh?”
“I asked if that—”
“Shut up, Irene.” He closed his eyes and gave a short laugh. “Just…shut up.”
Normally she’d be quite insulted someone had told her to shut up, but for some reason, she wasn’t. Maybe because he looked so…satisfied.
“Fine. I’ll assume from your abrupt response and the panting that it worked.”
One eye opened and he glared down at her. When he growled, she tried to move away, but he grabbed her shoulders and dragged her to her feet. He kissed her hard, one hand gripping her breast while the other gripped her ass and pulled her tight against his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He didn’t seem put off by tasting himself on her tongue, which was good because that would have insulted her.
Van walked her back until the backs of her knees hit the bed, then he tossed her onto the mattress. She bounced once before he crawled on top of her. Pushing his knee between her thighs, pinning her arms over her head with one hand and playing with her breast with the other, and the entire time he kept kissing her.
“You do know, Dr. Conridge, that you’re not getting out of this bed anytime soon?”
“Oh. Well…”
“If you’re going to drive a man crazy,” he warned while alternately sucking on her breasts and sliding his fingers deep inside her, “you’ll just have to pay for it.”
And she had absolutely no argument for that.
Eight
Irene woke up and found Niles Van Holtz wrapped around her like a python. He had his head buried between her breasts, his arms around her waist, his legs entangled with hers. They rested on their sides, so she didn’t have to take his full weight. Still, she had no idea what to do with the man. Did she grab his shoulders and shove? Hmmmm. That seemed a tad cold. And a bit reckless. With her luck he’d slam his head on something and die of an aneurysm. She could tap him lightly on the shoulder and tell him to move, but he didn’t wake up easily. She’d probably be better off hitting him repeatedly. Wait. No. Hitting him would also be considered rude.
Sighing, she relaxed back against the pillows. Perhaps she should simply wait until he woke on his own. A man his size was most likely ruled by his hunger. He’d need to feed soon.
Irene glanced down at the pair of them and she realized her arms were flung out at her side. On a whim, she brought her arms up and folded them around Van Holtz. He growled in his sleep and she wondered if she should make a run for it. But before she could, soft lips brushed against her breast while big hands slid across her back.
Definitely not an unpleasant response. Wondering how far this sort of thing would go, Irene gently stroked her hands through Van Holtz’s hair. He sighed in his sleep, his grip on her tightening, his mouth searching until it found a nipple and sucked.
She gasped in surprise and delight, enjoying the feel of his mouth on her body. He still slept on, his eyes tightly shut and the soft sleep-growl sounds he made while asleep coming from the back of his throat.
He pushed his leg between her thighs, his knee pressing hard against her groin, and his lips and tongue worked on her nipple. Before Irene knew it, an orgasm took hold of her and she cried out, her body writhing under his until the last shudder passed.
As she lay panting underneath him, he rested his head back between her breasts and commenced snoring. But five minutes later, his eyes opened and he glanced around, finally focusing on her. He smiled, a soft, sleepy smile, with his hair falling in front of his eyes. “Morning, doc.”
“Morning.”
“I’m hungry.” She liked how he stated that so simply.
“Uh…”
“I’ll make us some breakfast and then we’ll go to the mall.”
“Mall?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll enjoy it.” He yawned and released her, rolling onto his back.
“I’m horny.” He stated that like he’d stated, “I’m hungry.”
“Uh…”
Van Holtz grabbed a condom off the nightstand. “You don’t mind, do you? Before we get up?”
“Uh…”
“Good.” Fingers gently probed, then he was inside her before she could even think what to say. As he thrust, and she arched to meet it, he let out a deep groan. “Christ, Irene. You’re already so wet.” Staring down at her, he gave her that smirk. “What have you been doing this morning?”
“Why are there so many people? Have they nothing better to do?”
“You keep asking me that and…goddamnit. Where did you go?”
She didn’t say anything, but the bastard found her anyway. Damn canine senses.
“Have you no shame?”
Irene stepped out from behind the clothes rack where she’d been hiding. “I’m not good with crowds.”
“It’s a mall, doc. Nothing to be afraid of.” He grabbed her hand and yanked her over to where he was. “There will be no more hiding. I swear, it’s like dealing with a ten-year-old.”
This time he kept a tight grip on her hand as he moved through the racks of the sporting goods store. “How do you go shopping during the holidays if you can’t stand the mall?”
“I hand Jackie several hundred dollars and an itemized list.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“She likes to shop. I, however, do not. If she wants to spend time fighting those holiday crowds, I’m more than happy to give her money to do it.”
“Well, I’m telling you right now…” He held up a track suit in front of her, then shook his head. “Wrong color. Anyway, I expect you to buy my gifts yourself. Not send some lackey to do it.”
When it came to one-on-one relationships with actual living and breathing human beings, Irene was the first to admit she wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. But she’d noticed that as the day progressed, after what even the Marquis de Sade might consider a torrid night of sex, Van Holtz kept making statements that a more romantically inclined woman might believe suggested he wanted something much more permanent.
Good thing she knew better.
“The only thing I plan to get you is a restraining order.”
“Ha ha.” He held up another track suit. “This is it. The color’s perfect with your eyes.”
“My eyes?”
“Yeah. They’re a gorgeous blue. You just need colors that will bring them out.”
“I was told my eyes were freakish and disturbing. One of the professors in the theology department referred to them as unholy.”
“I think they’re hot.” He held up the suit. “Wanna try this on?”
The expression on her face must have shown how she felt about that, because he shrugged and dragged her to the front counter. After a few more purchases they wandered through the mall debating about getting something to eat when Van Holtz suddenly pulled her into a comic book store.
“I need to check something out for my cousin.”
“Exactly how many cousins do you have?”
“A lot. I told you that the Van Holtz men are breeders by nature. My dad quit after two, but my uncles—all eight of them—just kept going.” He stopped and turned to face her. “How many children do you want?”
She shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought…wait. Why are you asking?”
He suddenly looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “No reason. Merely asking for politeness’ sake.”
“Okay.”
Irene didn’t say anything else and he began to skim through the racks. Five minutes later he suddenly said, “But you do want kids, right?”
“If artificial insemination is becoming as reliable as I’ve been reading lately…perhaps.”
“Artificial insemination?”
“Yes. That’s when the egg—”
“I know what it is, Irene. I’m just wondering why that’s your big br
eeding plan.”
“Do you really think I’d allow the swapping of fluids between me and Bradley?”
Van Holtz’s eyebrows lowered and she watched him go from relatively normal human to a male about to shift to his animal form.
“What? What did I say?”
“What does Bradley have to do with anything?”
“I didn’t mean him specifically. I’m talking about the Bradleys of the world.” She shuddered. “The thought makes my skin crawl. So, artificial insemination seems the safest and least repulsive route.”
Van Holtz let out a sigh. “True, that’s one option. Or you could simply have sex with someone you want to have sex with.”
She shrugged and picked up a Superman comic. “True. But that happens so rarely. You’re the first. Not my first sexual encounter, as I told you, but the first one where having sex wasn’t a chore.”
Laying the shopping bags he carried at his feet, Van Holtz ran his hands through his hair. “I swear, you are trying to drive me insane.”
“Now what did I say?”
“Forget it. This discussion is over.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
He went back to searching through the comics and Irene began to read one. To be honest, she found them hard to follow. Her eyes never knew which bubble to go to first.
“So,” Van Holtz suddenly said, “whether it’s artificial insemination or the good old-fashioned way…how many kids?”
Why he wouldn’t let it go, she’d never know. But she didn’t want to argue with him. She was actually having quite a nice time with the Neanderthal. “I was thinking a minimum of two. Jackie has siblings and seems to enjoy them. I had none and it would have been nice to have an older brother or even a sister as long as she wasn’t as smart as me. Too competitive,” she added when he glanced at her. “Yes. So at least two.”
Van Holtz grunted. “Good.”
“Why is that good?” But he ignored her and kept searching the stacks. “Van Holtz?”
When He Was Bad Page 9