Matchless

by Brynley Bush

  “Damn, Mila,” he says, his voice raspy.

  When I open my mouth again, he feeds me a long strand of pasta coated in a light parmesan sauce which he twirls lusciously onto my tongue. He alternates feeding me bites of shrimp and pasta, occasionally wiping a speck of butter or sauce from the corners of my mouth with the pad of his thumb. It’s sensuous and erotic being fed by him with my eyes closed, focusing only on the sensory coupling of the flavors and textures of the foods he gives me. Occasionally, he places a glass of ice water to my lips so that I can drink.

  “Water?” I say the first time I take a sip, opening my eyes in surprise. His face is so close to mine that I can see his eyes glowing in the dark. Somehow water doesn’t fit with the rest of his sensual offerings.

  “Between being in the ocean and the hot tub, I don’t want you to get dehydrated,” he explains. “However I do have a bottle of champagne chilling if you want some later.”

  “Mmmm,” I say, licking my lips and opening my mouth for another bite. I’m surprised to find I like how he takes care of me.

  “Close your eyes,” he reminds me gently, and my eyelids obediently flutter shut. A delicious shudder runs along my spine as he feeds me another bite, this time a dry but flavorful hunk of cheese on a crisp slice of pear. Another bite of cheese and pear is followed by another strand of pasta, and then nothing. I wait patiently, my heart thumping.

  This time his lips touch mine, soft and firm, and I tilt my head up, wanting to taste him. As my lips part, he passes a raspberry, small and pebbled, from his mouth to mine. I have never experienced anything so sensory and sensual. As his lips move away I bite down on the fruit, tasting the tart sweetness that bursts into my mouth. He kisses me again, this time slipping a sumptuous bite of ripe melon into my mouth from his. I chew slowly, savoring the unexpectedly carnal pleasure of this impromptu sensual dinner.

  Although a part of me would quite willingly be fed by him all night, my stomach is full. My hunger now is for something entirely different. I open my eyes, staring directly into his golden ones.

  “I’m ready for dessert,” I say huskily, my breath catching.

  “Are you sure, Mila?” he asks, his own voice hitching with desire.

  “Positive,” I say, my heart tripping a little at the implication of what we’re about to do. Although I hate to break the moment, I add, “But I’ve got to get out of this hot tub. I’m turning into a prune.”

  Laughing softly, he helps me out, wrapping me in the generously-sized, soft, white towel he has brought out for me.

  “Do you want some champagne now?” he asks.

  I nod and he disappears inside. Unwrapping the towel, I sink down onto one of the cushioned chaise lounges on the patio, my body languid from the hot tub as I stretch out, taking in the view of the ocean in the distance. It’s completely dark and the beach is deserted.

  Griffin returns with two glasses of champagne and hands me one, perching on the edge of my lounge chair.

  “To dessert,” he says softly, lifting his glass. We briefly clink our glasses together and I sit up slightly to take a sip, enjoying the dry burst of bubbles as they hit my tongue before I sink back down against the cushions. He takes a sip and sets his glass down, leaning over to kiss me. I can taste champagne and the essence that is simply Griffin on his tongue as it strokes mine.

  He pulls back and picks up his glass again, tilting it over my stomach.

  “Hey!” I say with a start as the cold liquid hits my belly, pooling in my navel. My stomach instantly caves in at the shocking coldness.

  “Stay still,” he commands, leaning forward to sip the champagne from my belly.

  “Oooooh,” I exhale slowly. “That’s nice.”

  Splash! Champagne hits my belly again and my back arches off of the chair. Griffin reaches one strong hand up to squeeze my breast as he tastes my skin again. I moan.

  He tips another shot-sized amount of champagne onto my stomach and descends on me, his warm tongue swirling across my abdomen, licking up every drop of the bubbly liquid. He kisses up my torso, between the two triangles of my bikini top, stopping to nibble at my neck before trailing tiny kisses up my jawbone to that sensitive spot behind my ear. I shiver.

  “Are you cold?” he whispers tenderly as he stretches out full length beside me. I shake my head. Far from being chilled, my skin feels feverish, warmed from the erotic heat of his tongue.

  The lounge chair is roomy but not quite wide enough for both of us to lie side by side, so he hauls me into his arms as he scoots under me, pulling me back on top of him so that my back is to his chest, my body draped over his. His muscular body is less yielding than the plush cushion and my back bows slightly against the hard plane of him. His hands cup my breasts over my bikini top, and he kneads them with a delicious hint of roughness. Griffin is no tentative, mild-mannered lover. He is aggressive and self-assured, taking what he wants, and although the feminist in me is shaking her head, the woman in me is quivering with delight.

  With his left hand still firmly cupping my breast, he lightly rolls the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The fabric of my swimsuit is thin and I can feel the jolt straight to my core. As his clever fingers continue to torment the sensitive tip of my breast, his right hand skims over my torso, circling my naval lazily before continuing down, glancing over my mound. His hand roams back up and then slips inside my bikini bottom, making me gasp at the warm touch of his fingers as they explore my sex. He plunges a finger into my folds, swirling it inside of me until I’m undulating my hips, my bottom grinding against him.

  He shifts under me slightly, and despite our swimsuits, I can feel his hard erection wedged slightly between my cheeks. I wiggle my butt against his hard cock, laughing softly when he curses under his breath. I grind against him again, enjoying my power. With lighting quickness, he pinches my nipple hard, making me gasp.

  He turns my head with a firm grasp and kisses me urgently, his tongue forcing my mouth open as it plunges inside. All the while, his fingers continue working their magic against my clitoris. He releases my mouth as he ruthlessly thrusts three fingers inside my dripping opening and I can feel his smile at my whimper.

  “That’s right, Mila. Let me hear those little sounds of pleasure,” he says.

  There is no question as to who’s in charge. Although he is the one pinned by my body, I am the one who is powerless, unable to do anything but writhe against his clever fingers that flick and stroke.

  “I do like making you squirm,” he says with satisfaction, his voice raspy.

  He continues the onslaught until I’m on the edge, desperate to come. His fingers still and I cry out in frustration.

  “No, no!” I protest, my hips still rising in a desperate plea. “Don’t stop.”

  “Shhh. There’s someone coming,” he whispers in my ear as his fingers resume their pleasurable assault.

  I am wild and wanton, careless in my primitive need for release.

  “Now!” I cry out.

  Griffin chuckles as his hand covers my mouth. His hand is big and it easily seals my mouth, his strong fingers firmly gripping my jaw as he holds me still and silent as he teases my clit relentlessly with his other hand until I am bucking and squirming uncontrollably on top of him. The vulnerability of being held against him, unable to make a sound as he plays with me, coupled with the forbidden thrill of knowing someone is nearby and could possibly see his intimate handling of me pushes me over the edge. I convulse silently against his hand as shudder after shudder racks my body in a seemingly unending wave of bliss.

  When I’m finally still, he loosens his hold over my mouth enough for my teeth to grasp the tender flesh of his palm, and I nip him sharply.

  “Ouch,” he says in shock, dropping his hand completely as he shakes it.

  I take his hand in both of mine and press a kiss to his palm, my tongue darting out to explore the small indentations made by my teeth.

  “That was totally hot,” I say with satisfaction, shiftin
g off of him so I’m lying on my side, my body pressed to his.

  “Then what was that for?”

  “Just a reminder that I can bite,” I say brazenly.

  “Mmm, I like that,” he says, his eyes glowing. “But be careful, my little spitfire,” he adds darkly. “That can get dangerous.”

  “I want danger,” I whisper. “I want to push the boundaries and go as high and as far and as close to the edge as you’ll go with me. That’s the only way I’m going to get you out of my system.

  “Is that why you’re here tonight?” he asks questioningly, turning my face toward his so I’m looking straight at him, our faces mere inches apart.

  “Yes,” I breathe. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t think straight when you’re around. It’s pissing me off.”

  He laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “So you think if we have no holds barred sex this chemistry between us will just disappear?” he questions, the amusement evident in his voice.

  “Yes,” I say definitively.

  “Well, I’m more than happy to help you test that theory, but not tonight, sweetheart. Between two hours of surfing when your body’s unaccustomed to it, the hot tub, and according to Marcus, a long work week on my behalf, I’m guessing you’re exhausted.”

  Seeing the protest on my face he adds temptingly, “Spend the day with me tomorrow. I’ll plan a date for us and we can talk about the case. Then, if you still want to, I’ll give you what you want tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow night?” I say in dismay.

  Griffin raises an eyebrow. “You thought one night would be enough to get this out of our systems?” he tsks. “Frankly, Mila, I’m insulted.”

  Okay, now he’s just making fun of me. But what he’s asking for—an entire day with him, a date—is not what I’d bargained for. This was supposed to be simple. We’d have one more night of amazing sex and then move on with our lives, independent of each other. But maybe he’s right; it’s going to take more than one more night. After all, our one night together last weekend certainly hadn’t helped. If anything, the taste of the passion Griffin and I shared, which made every past relationship I’ve ever had pale in comparison, only whetted my appetite for more.

  “Fine,” I concede with a sigh. “You can pick me up at nine.”

  “Oh no, Mila,” he says, his arm tightening around me like steel. “I still intend to have you the rest of tonight. No more running away. In fact, if you ever leave without saying goodbye again, I promise you I will turn you over my knee and give you a spanking you will never forget, even if you’re at your office in your sexy, conservative business suit.”

  My mouth goes dry as my stomach flip flops at the unbidden image.

  Griffin’s eyes darken as a slow smile spreads over his face. “Well, I’ll be damned. You like the idea of that!”

  I turn my face into his chest, hiding from his penetrating gaze. He crushes me close to him and then takes my chin in his hand, forcing my gaze back to his.

  “Don’t ever be ashamed of your sexual appetite, Mila,” he says intently. “It’s beautiful, and it turns me on more than you can imagine.”

  I can feel my face warm at his words.

  “I love your sense of adventure and I can’t wait to take you places you’ve never been before,” he promises seductively. “But tonight I’m going to take you upstairs and make love to you under the stars until we both fall asleep, and then when we wake up in the morning, I’m going to do it again, even if I have to tie you to my bed to make sure you stay.”

  His words race along my nerve endings like wildfire, spreading heat and desire. I don't protest when he scoops me off the chaise lounge, grabbing the bottle of champagne along the way as he carries me inside and up the stairs before finally setting me back on my feet next to the king-sized bed that is centered in the room. He opens the skylight as I stand beneath it, once again mesmerized as the night sky becomes his ceiling. He flips another switch and classical music fills the room, so pure and strong that it pulls at my soul.

  He crosses the room and stands in front of me, his eyes impassioned. He bends to kiss me deep and sensuously as he loosens the bikini string at my back. With one tug, he pulls the string at my neck that holds my bikini top on and it falls to the floor, leaving me fully exposed to his heated gaze. His hands cup my breasts as he runs his thumbs over the tips and they harden into tight points at his touch.

  His lips curl into a satisfied smile as his hands slip into the bottom of my bikini, easing it slowly over my hips until it falls to the floor at my feet. I step out of it, naked and unashamed before him. My eyes meet his, and without breaking our gaze, he unties his shorts and lets them fall to the floor so he is as naked as I am.

  “I think it’s time I get to torment you a little,” I say hoarsely, my palm flat against his chest as I push him onto the bed. He goes willingly, catching me around the waist and taking me with him as he lands on his back on the bed, me on top of him. Raising myself onto my hands and knees, I move off of him and slide myself back off the bed. He watches with intense interest as I retrieve the bottle of champagne from the dresser where he’d left it and bring it back to the bed with me. Before setting it on the floor, I raise the bottle to my lips and take a mouthful.

  I crawl back across the bed and kiss his sensuous lips, transferring the champagne from my mouth to his. He swallows and then cups the back of my head with his hand, bringing me back down for a deeper kiss. After a moment I pull back from the kiss, pausing to lightly lick a drop of champagne from the corner of his mouth.

  “I’m in charge,” I remind him.

  Laughing, he lies back again. “Be my guest,” he says magnanimously. “Just don’t get used to it.”

  “I want to pleasure you,” I murmur, planting kisses across the smooth, flawless skin of his chest. I circle his nipples several times before flicking them with my tongue, and I can practically feel the self-discipline emanating from him as he keeps his arms purposely still, letting me have my way with him.

  I continue down the hard length of his torso, my lips and hands adoring the chiseled perfection of his body. When I get to his pelvis, I turn around so that I’m still on my hands and knees but straddling him the opposite way, my head facing his feet. Slowly, I lower my upper torso, taking his hard and throbbing cock into my mouth. The taut skin is like velvet against my tongue, and he tastes like the earth and the ocean. I run my tongue from the tip to the base as my lips close over him.

  He groans but he doesn’t move. His self-control really is impressive. I plan to do everything in my power to destroy it.

  I slide my mouth down the length of him, suppressing my gag reflex as I take him to the back of my throat and back out again several times, stopping after each time to swirl my tongue around the thick head of his shaft. I reach down for the bottle of champagne, taking a sip and holding the cold, bubbly liquid in my mouth before taking him in my mouth again. I smile as he almost bolts off the bed.

  Holding his shaft in one hand, I cup his heavy and swollen balls in my other, caressing them gently. I wet my lips with more champagne and press my mouth down over the hard length of him again, moving up and down with my hand followed by my mouth, taking him deeper and deeper with each thrust. I speed up and slow down, taking him to the edge and back, over and over again, worshipping his cock with my mouth and tongue until his muscles are straining as taut and hard as steel under me.

  Then his hands are on my ass, kneading roughly as he urges me on. His hips take over and he thrusts into my mouth with forceful strokes, fucking my mouth as I suck him as deep and as hard as I can. I can feel his cock beginning to pulse when he raises himself, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling back forcefully. His cock springs out of my mouth as my head jerks back.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, his breath coming heavy. “Your mouth is so fucking hot. But I want to come inside of you.” He reaches across the bed and grabs a condom, ripping it out of the wrapper with his teeth. I take
it from him and roll it onto his hard shaft.

  Still facing away from him, I lower myself onto his rigid, pulsing cock. My back arches as he fills me, stretching me, and his hands grasp my ribs, lifting me as my breasts thrust up and my head falls back. We stay like that for a moment, frozen in an intimate pose of seduction before he begins to thrust in and out of me slowly with impressive strength and control.

  Desperate to feel him so deep and hard inside of me that he touches my center, I raise my torso so I’m sitting up straight on him again. I impale myself on his hard shaft forcefully, lifting and lowering my pelvis as I take all of him into me. He lets me ride him at my leisure for several minutes before wrapping his strong fingers around my wrists. Holding them firmly at my side, he takes over, pumping into me with a ferocity that quickly takes me to the edge of reason, somehow still in control even when I’m on top. I feel his hips tighten under me as he holds me immobile and thrusts hard into me, taking me along for the ride as we explode together.

  Chapter Nine

  I wake to the quiet snicking sound of metal sliding into metal and the feel of cold steel on my wrists. My eyes fly open to see Griffin’s face just inches above mine, illuminated by the morning light streaming through the skylight, his eyes bright and mischievous. I instinctively try to move my arms from above my head and quickly realize my wrists are bound to his headboard by a pair of handcuffs.

  “What are you doing?” I ask cautiously.

  “Just trying to help you get me out of your system,” he says cheerfully. “I’m also making sure you don’t go anywhere while I enjoy my breakfast,” he adds, tweaking my nipples. Like traitors, they instantly harden at his touch.

  Murmuring appreciatively, he bends to take one hard peak into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. I have gone from dead asleep to over-the-top aroused in less than five seconds.