by Taryn Quinn
No, not more than anyone. He didn’t mean that much. No man did. But he was her friend, and she felt especially friendly toward him right then.
She palmed his head as he ventured down the slope of her shoulder. He tugged aside her already loose shirt, revealing her bare skin. She’d happily divested herself of her bra the minute she’d arrived home. Her breasts were extremely sensitive to begin with and pregnancy hadn’t helped. But now, just the scrape of her top over her nipples made her bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. He didn’t alter his pattern of little licks and bites, pushing her shirt farther and farther down, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the only thing holding it up was her breast.
Her unrepentantly eager breast, diamond-hard nipple and all.
“Sterling,” she gasped. “Don’t tease me.”
“I would never.” He found her mouth again, slipping inside to toy with her tongue. While they kissed, he slid his hands into the back of her stretchy pants and squeezed her ass, pulling her closer so that she could rub against his magnificently hard cock in maddening little circles that stoked her need even higher. “I’m waiting,” he breathed over her lips.
She blinked, already caught between the conflicting impulses to plaster herself to his cock and to grind into his palms. Trying to puzzle out what he’d just said made her world tilt even more. “For what?”
He continued to move his mouth over hers, seducing her with slow thrusts of his tongue. She’d never been kissed this much before sex. Not that she was complaining. But her lips were going numb, for God’s sake. And she was more than a bit impatient for act two to begin.
Finally she could take no more. She grasped his broad shoulders and pushed him back just far enough to see that his lips were swollen and reddened too—and damn if a freaking gush of wetness didn’t saturate her panties from the realization. “Sterling, damn you. What are you waiting for?”
He tipped back his head to catch his breath, allowing her to see the ripple of his powerful throat. Adam’s apples didn’t turn her on as a rule, though neither did men in suits. In Sterling’s case, both were making her clit fucking pound. That slightly loosened tie, the one open button on his white dress shirt, the gaping jacket, pushed open by her wandering, hungry hands…
“You said you had so much more experience than me.” One dark eyebrow winged up and the pounding between her legs turned into a drumbeat that echoed throughout her entire body. “I’m waiting to see it.” He reached up to pull his tie over his head and wrapped it around his wrist, that eyebrow climbing even higher most likely due to her sudden flush. “Bondage?” he asked, half to himself.
“No,” she said too quickly. “I mean, yes, I would, but I haven’t tried it with anyone else yet—”
“You’ve experienced bondage by yourself?”
How to answer this without looking—and feeling—like an ass? “Uh, yeah. I’ve tied myself up before while…self-stimulating. One hand only, of course, but I like the way it feels to be bound. And I don’t trust just anyone at that level.” She sniffed, hating that her mind veered to Pete even for a nanosecond. “Especially certain exes who won’t be named. But hey, you know, my fault for jumping into bed like I’m jumping into a pool.”
Also her fault for completely killing the mood. His eyes had taken on a sharper quality that turned up the pitch of desire in her belly to the molten heat range. The more she feared he would pull away, the hotter she burned.
Sterling Vance was her Mount Everest, just an experience to be had. Being with him was exciting, incredible, but not life-changing. She couldn’t let herself forget that for a second.
“Are you telling me we should slow down?” He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Perhaps he was helpless when it came to suppressing the urge to touch too.
About as helpless as she was to not move closer. To take more. She spread her hands over his tight abs, sculpting them with her fingers through his expensive shirt. His shudder wasn’t lost on her. Nor was the pinch of his generous mouth.
“I’ve known you since I was in diapers, Vance, so no, I don’t think we should slow down. We’ve already gone slowly enough.”
The grooves around his lips only deepened. “Yes, remind me of that, why don’t you?” Gently but firmly, he gripped her wrists and nudged her back. “Look, maybe we should consider—”
She leaned up, going with instinct, and breathed as close to his ear as she could manage on her tiptoes. “I want you to fuck me, hard. I need it.” At his long exhale, she grabbed his hand—oops, that was the injured one—then swapped it for his good one and pressed it between her legs. It was a damn miracle the fabric hadn’t soaked clear through. “Feel that? I’m wet for you. Don’t make me go tie myself up in your guest bedroom and writhe all over your sheets while I’m getting myself off.”
His jaw went tight and his eyes—well, they sparked with a dark, dangerous light that ignited a matching one in her core. “I can’t believe you really do that.”
She fingered the dangling edge of his tie and nearly shivered from the muscle that twitched in his temple. Unless she didn’t know men at all, prim and proper Sterling Vance was imagining her tied up and bound at his mercy.
And pleasure. Lots and lots of pleasure. At least if he continued to let this version of himself play. The one that had fingered her to near orgasm, then pushed her away, had vanished, good riddance to him.
“I do.” Not often, but now and then. She did that more often than she used her vibrator, which probably made her one kinky little puppy. “Want me to show you what else I can do, Mr. Vance?”
Hell, that clenched-jaw, steely-eyed expression he wore practically produced an orgasm all on its own.
Without warning, he swept her up in his arms, causing her to let out a very unladylike snort-squeak. He only picked up the pace.
This time, he didn’t take her to the guest bedroom. Nope, it was the master all the way. He carried her over the threshold and laid her down on the pillow-soft, blood-red sheets as carefully as if she were a priceless doll. He tossed aside his tie—she watched it fly through the air with a sad sigh—and reached for her top, tugging it up and off with no hesitation whatsoever.
While she gaped, he set aside her shirt and viewed her naked upper half with a hunger that made her nipples bead into proud little points. “You’re so beautiful.” He ran a reverent hand over the slope of one breast and she gasped, incapable of smothering the sound. “No wonder you want to pierce these,” he murmured, circling one taut tip with his thumb. “They’d look delectable wrapped in jewels.”
Words. She had them. Yet only “uhh” emerged.
He bent, took one of her nipples in his mouth for a fraction of an instant. Hot, drugging pleasure pulsed into her pussy when he drew back to meet her gaze. “Taste delectable too.”
His palm coasted over her slightly rounded belly, and the sight of his fingers stretching to reach as much of it as possible made her eyes blur with lust, and more. He was touching her baby as tenderly as he’d stroked her breasts, and he didn’t seem dissuaded by the sight. “Beautiful,” he repeated, pressing a kiss just above her navel as she trembled like a leaf caught in a sudden storm.
Shocked, a little overwhelmed, she struggled up on her elbows while he unbuttoned his cuffs. He rolled up his sleeves, then, much to her confusion, turned to open the closet door opposite the bed before sitting on the floor with his back against the mattress.
“W-what are you doing down there?” God, she was stuttering already, and he’d only sucked on her nipple for a second.
She was in so much trouble.
“On your knees.” He looked back and made a come-hither gesture with his fingers. The fact that his knuckles were seeping and torn didn’t dissuade her in the least.
She pursed her lips, trying to figure out the logistics. Her brain felt like mush. “On the floor, with you? Do you want a blowjob?” Because that was mighty fine with her. She’d happily suck on him for as long a
s her jaws held out. If he blew his load down her throat, even better.
He flushed, just slightly around the tips of his ears and cheeks. It was so cute she couldn’t decide whether to hug him or mount him like a polo pony.
Both. Definitely both.
“No. I mean, I’m not against them, but—” He exhaled. “Stay up there, lose the pants and get on your knees. Please,” he added, making that same come-hither gesture again.
Now she blushed. He wanted to blow her. And oh yeah, she was down for that. She’d make like glass and probably shatter with one breath, but hell, she’d give it a whirl just for the pure joy of getting to sit on his face.
She was already scrambling into position when reality slammed into her with the force of a dump truck. She was no longer as small as she’d once been. “I’m heavy.”
Her second thought went unstated: I’m preggo. Belly will be hanging too close for comfort. Abort mission!
His snort made her grin. “Oh sure. That buck-twenty you’re packing is too much for me. You saw how I struggled to carry you up the stairs.” He shook his head. “You’re perfect in every way.”
Warmth flooded her veins and twined satiny ropes around her heart. She should’ve known he’d be a sweet talker. “Oh, I’m totes confident. Always.”
She hooked her thumbs in her waistband and tried to pretend she wasn’t searching for more stretch marks while she rolled them over her hips. Nope. She was so blasé about this whole thing that she couldn’t even force her unsexy, plain white cotton panties down due to her shaking hands.
That was excitement. Just excitement.
“Just in case this is you feeling charitable, no worries.” Her voice climbed higher. Thinning out like a wire about to snap. “I’m good to go. Foreplay’s awesome, but—”
“Ang. Finish taking off your clothes and get over here.”
She didn’t really want to argue. Normally she loved oral sex—who didn’t?—but she felt more shy and more…well, everything since becoming pregnant. Her skin prickled with nerves, and she couldn’t quite imagine actually placing her knees on either side of Sterling’s head, positioning herself so that he could lay his head on the bed and press his mouth to her pussy.
But then she was, and it wasn’t the least bit awkward. In fact, it felt fan-fucking-tastic.
He banded an arm around her butt, securely holding her in place, and somehow reclined even more. His tongue flicked over her drenched flesh, barely parting her folds, and she fisted her hands in her own hair and pulled. Somewhere along the way she’d closed her eyes, but when he circled her needy clit, they flew open.
And landed on the mirror capturing every erotic movement of his mouth between her legs. He was way too occupied with his oral activities to take time to look in the glass, but she couldn’t stop. Each clench of Sterling’s strong hands around her thighs while he feasted on her with blatant enjoyment torqued her even more.
Maybe he was a little bit kinky too. A girl could hope.
“Y-you opened the door.” Dammit, what was up with the stuttering? “On the closet.”
Meaning she’d have to be very careful to aim her back away from the glass at all times. She couldn’t take a chance of him connecting the lotus buds of her tattoo and identifying her as GothGeek.
He made a noise in the affirmative and added an extra lick for good measure. That she actually saw the flash of his tongue gliding over her in the mirror finished off her visual sundae.
Nearly finished her off too.
She tightened her hold on her hair and flexed her hips, which had the benefit of thrusting her breasts out and her pussy down. Sterling offered a growl of approval. His dominant side had roared to the fore, and God, it worked for her. All of this did.
She rocked experimentally, unable to keep from squinting to analyze how she looked in the glass. Her curves were more ample than they’d once been, and she couldn’t quite move as agilely, but all in all, she looked good as she shamelessly rode Sterling’s face. Especially since she had a hot as hell man below her, eating her out with a raw appreciation she’d never expected from him. He seemed like the kind of man who only ate with a knife and fork—not with his sensual lips parted wide as his tongue scooped out her wetness and rolled it into his mouth.
Then he wet his own fingers and slid them inside her, pumping slowly. So slowly that her moans hissed out in fractured bursts. He shifted away just far enough for her to see his swollen lips and damp chin and the pure crystal blue of his eyes. Their focus staggered her, at least until she lost hers when he reached down to undo his belt. The fingers of his other hand continued to slide in and out. Swiftly driving her mad.
She whimpered. Oh yes, yes, yes. She wanted to see that cock. Wanted to suck it and taste it and ride it until she couldn’t feel her lower half anymore.
“You’re clenching me like a fist. So tight.” His voice sounded strangled as he drew his leather belt through its loops. He unzipped his pants and with just one glimpse of his boxer-clad erection, her inner walls fluttered around his fingers. “I’ll give you what you need.”
He still sat on the floor beside the bed, facing away from her, and the angle of his arm as he reached back to caress her flesh wasn’t ideal. But she wasn’t about to tell him to stop, because damn, she was on the verge of bathing his hand. Embarrassingly. This had all the hallmarks of a tell-your-friends-and-neighbors kind of orgasm, if she’d had those kinds of friends and neighbors.
In lieu of them, she’d just scream her fool head off.
“Please,” she whispered, dividing her attention between where he’d freed his length and the mirror opposite them that revealed everything. The naked desire on her face, the slack-jawed hunger on his. Those slick fingers pumping deep, and his other palm clenching his thick length.
He wasn’t built the way she imagined a desk monkey might be. He would’ve been a fine…dildo model, for example. Perhaps she’d suggest he consider a second—third—career change.
Later. Much later.
He wrapped his palm around himself and stroked from root to tip, leisurely as could be. At the same time his thumb brushed her throbbing clit and she cried out, her body jolting from the influx of pleasure. Tipping her over into a climax so strong that she couldn’t even draw enough breath to fuel it.
Again and again she convulsed around his questing fingers and drove her own into his hair, yanking until he groaned. From arousal or pain, she couldn’t tell. She couldn’t have lessened her hold anyway, since he kept going, his gaze riveted to her undulating body in the glass. She struggled to watch too, to see every bit of this carnal play she somehow starred in.
He continued to massage his cock, fisting it without hesitation. His damaged knuckles rippled, and she shuddered even more. Her cheeks heated at her perplexing reaction to his injury, yet she couldn’t drag her focus from his pumping grip.
God, he was sexy. Her friend. Her warrior. And now, finally, her lover.
“Look at those nipples,” he murmured, and she did, mainly because she couldn’t do anything but stare dizzily and grind into his palm. The hardened tips extended visibly from her bouncing breasts, hued a deep red that could’ve given Rudolph a run for his money. But he sounded amazed and ridiculously turned on, so she jutted her chest that much more and gave him a solid squeeze inside. He groaned again and caressed her clit, making her jerk back. “Too soon?”
She nodded and let out a little whimper as he withdrew his fingers and rose to face her. Every line of his face had been wrought in granite except for his swollen lips and urgent, seeking eyes.
Shyness tried to overtake her again as he openly perused her still-twitching body, but she couldn’t smother a moan as he latched on to her nipple and pulled. The thrum of heat struck deep in her pussy, releasing another pulse of liquid, and she gave in to the urge to reach for her other nipple and twist it.
His low-lidded, heavy-eyed stare prodded her to increase the pressure. He bit her other nipple and cupped her mound. “Your
thighs are soaked,” he whispered against her breast, his warm breath streaming over her areola. Proving his point, he caressed her damp inner legs, and her now-neglected clit throbbed in protest.
How quickly she’d gone from oversensitive to hell yes, I could come again.
Ang rolled her lower lip between her teeth just as hard as she rolled her nipple. He sucked on its twin, pressing his tongue to the aroused tip.
God, she ached deep inside. She quaked around air, craving something hard and thick to stretch her wide.
Not something. Him. That sexy cock bobbing against his still-buttoned shirt. She gripped him and he groaned, his arousal dripping onto her thumb. She rubbed the head harder, eager for more. “Fill me up. Please.”
His teeth grazed her nipple and she trembled, hoping that wasn’t his idea of an answer. Surely he didn’t intend to get her off like this—a huge step up from his guest-room antics, yes, but far short of what she craved—and back away due to his ethics or his manners or the fact that, oh yeah, he was sort of online dating the skeeze who’d sent him a booty shot just that afternoon.
The memory of her alter ego’s computer activities made her freeze up in spite of his fingers finding her clit again. Stroking. Sliding in her abundant wetness to her opening and gliding inside. First one finger, then two. Finally three, widening her while she tossed her head back and forth and watched the play of muscles beneath his shirt in the mirror. And his taut ass flexing as he lurched into her tight grip while they handjobbed each other to the brink of oblivion all over again.
More. She craved so much more.
She seized his wrist, stilling him. “Why won’t you fuck me?” Her chin quivered. “Is it because I’m pregnant with his baby? Does that…taint me in your eyes?”
The eyes in question flashed hot. “You aren’t tainted.” He freed his wet hand from her grasp and cradled her belly. “You and your baby are gorgeous. Perfect.”