PerpetualPleasure

by Dita Parker

  Everything she could never succumb to or she would go out of her mind longing for it, she saw in men as they fucked her. Pleasure, need, fire, abandon—raging unbridled. She fed on it, and this man promised a feast fit for a queen.

  Except nothing happened.

  Nothing but his slow hands gently caressing her hair but not her face. His big, warm palms went down her shoulders but avoided touching her breasts. They followed the dip and swell of her waist and hips where he stopped to knead and squeeze at her softly. He sailed past her mound to her legs, careful not to touch the sensitive skin of her inner thighs or the curve of her ass. He only stroked and followed the contours of her outer thighs and calves.

  His rough skin and firm hold felt exquisite, too damn wonderful for her to let him go on with it for much longer. To keep feeling what he made her feel as his hands ascended the same way, slow, sensuous, massaging here and petting there, until she didn’t know which way to writhe to escape him.

  “Keep still, honey, or I’ll restrain you.”

  She didn’t care for helplessness and she didn’t care for submission but this man made it hard for her to remember why. Her whole body had become an erogenous zone under his ministrations. Then again she couldn’t recall a man covering as much skin as the Scotsman did, caressing her from head to toe as if he had all the time in the world and relished the task.

  “You don’t have to,” she tried weakly.

  “Oh but I want to,” he said thickly. “I absolutely insist.”

  Her eyes fluttered open to stare at the abandoned expression of the magnificent man in front of her, a man looking as if she had been fondling him and not the other way around.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she sighed.

  His eyes lit up. “Let’s see if we can’t make it extra fine for you. What next?”

  Before Lucie could stop herself, she blurted, “Put your hands where you haven’t already.” Her moves, her MO, guaranteed to drive men wild, now worked against her with every move he made.

  You’re going to regret this. Tell him to fuck you now or make him stop or you will regret this for the rest of your life. And that’s all eternity.

  His hand stole to her breast. With his knuckles he brushed the underside of one globe before moving to caress the other with the tips of his fingers, barely touching, merely grazing.

  Lucie felt like panting.

  Her breast disappeared into his palm.

  “Oh.”

  He kneaded her softly, gently.

  “That feels good. So good,” she heard herself whisper. “Harder.”

  Yes, why not, even if his mouth was now so close to hers she could feel the heat of his breath on her lips. That warmth spilled into her as his mouth landed on hers, the kiss quickly deepening into a slow exploration as he crouched over her, caging her in like a beast savoring its prey. He didn’t thrust his tongue inside her mouth as some of her former lovers had tried to. He kept her riveted where she lay with nothing more than the press of his lips on hers and his hand on her breast.

  Slowly, one big palm trailed the curves of her neck and nape. He cupped her face, moaning into the kiss, his lips hot and firm.

  She wasn’t kissing him back, not properly, but she wasn’t fighting him either, even if her hands clenched in fists.

  “Maybe you need another serving to make up your mind on that one,” he whispered against her mouth. Kneading her breast softly, he deepened the kiss. She opened her mouth to him on a whimper, only making it worse. He pressed his lips tightly on hers to taste her more deeply and flicked his thumb over the rosy bead until she moaned into his mouth and arched to meet his hand.

  “Do you like the feel of me on you, little Lucie? Because I love how you feel under my hands…how you taste.”

  He pressed his mouth to her neck. She shivered. He nipped her softly, lips skating over warm skin. Tremors ran through her with every light caress as he kissed his way from her jaw to her nape, over her throat to her ear and the sensitive spot of skin beneath, so responsive she gasped.

  “Such a tasty treat, Lucie. But I’m not sated.”

  He gave her nipple a flick with the tip of his tongue. She jerked but stayed silent. He tugged hard at the tight peak, creating a live wire straight from her breast through her gut to her pussy. And she could feel the effect of his mouth on her breast all the way between her legs as he licked her, rolled over the swollen bead until the fists she had made flew open. So did her eyes, and the cry Lucie had tried to hold back tore free.

  “Like this, honey?” He gave her another hard tug before pursing his lips on the swollen bead in a gentler caress. “Open your legs for me.”

  Feeling like a sack of bricks sinking fast, Lucie tried to move.

  “Wider,” he demanded, and she did her best to please him.

  “Better,” he said. He ran his knuckles between her breasts and down her belly and slipped his hand between her thighs. He rubbed her pussy lips for a moment, careful not to touch her clit, only the flesh around it. His fingers skated up and down, pressing and caressing in a sensuous tease she could feel to the pits of her pussy, while his mouth went back to torture her breasts. He flicked her nipples with his tongue one moment, licked languorously the next, only to suck at her breasts with such force she bucked against him.

  “Oh god, what are you doing?” She was going to come. She could feel it in the pulse of her clit. One more pull at her breast, a few forceful lashes of his tongue and she would be gone.

  His mouth lifted, the tension easing in an instant.

  “Enjoying my entrée.”

  His middle finger trailed her slit, delved deeper, only stopping when he found the moist opening to her pussy. He pressed the pad tight against the entrance but didn’t enter. “You should never skip a starter, Miss Marcotte.” The tip of his finger slipped inside and circled the opening. “You never know what treats you might miss out on.”

  The digit drove home in a smooth glide. His eyes closed on a moan as she tried to stifle hers. They opened again as he began stroking her channel in a steady pace and all she could do was gape at his expression mirroring the intense pleasure he must have seen on hers.

  His hand retreated only to return with a vengeance. Two broad fingers pushed into her pussy while the pad of his thumb pressed into her clit and started circling lightly.

  Oh god…

  What was wrong with him? Men didn’t take their time with her, they just took her, like she wanted them to. But this, this…

  “Fuck me,” she gasped. “Do it.”

  He gave her puckered nipple a kiss, moved to speak low into her ear.

  “I’m going to let you in on a secret. Big boys don’t fuck. They’re not sated with fast food. It doesn’t keep the hunger away for long. You wanna play with the big boys, you learn to take it slow because we like to savor things, nice and easy. First things first, like appetizers. Tasting, teasing, simmering your way to boiling point. I’m not going to fuck you, Lucie. But if I had a condom I would be tempted as hell to make love to you.”

  Before what he said sank in, his mouth descended on hers.

  Her body pulsed. Escape route, her head screamed. Her heart taunted, Tell him you’re doomed.

  She had protection. And she had let the situation go too far. So far, she thrashed under him when it should have been the other way around. So far, the extreme pleasure of it had her meeting his hand as he finger-fucked her wildly. So damn far, she was dissolving under his kiss while his mouth ravaged hers and she opened up as if welcoming him.

  Get up and get out. Now.

  Lucie broke off the kiss on a gasp and tried to close her legs. “No condom, no-go.”

  This was more like it, more like her. In control, calling the shots.

  “You don’t have to skip dessert.” He smiled and wiggled his brows.

  She didn’t think so. “No cream pie a la carte tonight, buster.”

  He grinned. “That’s not what I meant. I just wa
nt you to finish your entrée.”

  He bent down to kiss her once more and just like that he had her riveted, under his command, lying spread and open under him. And his fingers, oh god, his fingers pushed in and out of her pussy with smooth precision, stretching, filling.

  “Wanna know what I want as a starter? I want you coming all over my fingers like you would my cock. Show me how hard you’d come on my dick. And if my fingers don’t do it for you, I bet my mouth will.” His thumb pressed tight against her clit. “I would really love to taste your pussy,” he whispered.

  Oh god oh god oh god…

  “That’s it. Don’t hold back on me, honey.”

  Her keening turning into hoarse cries, Lucie started to come.

  In that shattering moment of giving in and letting go, of coming face-to-face with the mortal needs that only made her eternal existence more unbearable, pleasure dissolved into disillusionment fast.

  She needed to escape him, the sooner the better, but he was still petting her cunt, making it hard for her to try to get up.

  “Lay still,” he ordered and she complied, doing her damnedest to gather her strength.

  He tucked away his still-hard cock and slipped her shoes back on but instead of tying her dress back in place, he wiggled it from underneath her.

  “Now,” MacCale drawled. “I want to make another reservation.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Lucie wheezed.

  “You heard me. We need to finish this properly and soon. The whole menu, remember?” The behemoth sounded amused and not a little determined. “Tell me where to find you and I will give you back your dress.”

  Blackmail? He thought he could blackmail her?

  He stood before her, dress in one hand, dripping sex and resolve. “So, what do you say?”

  Lucie sat up then stood, trying not to heave too visibly.

  “I say you have a pleasant evening now. You can keep the dress, something to remember me by.”

  Lucie flipped her hair and started to go. She would have to walk past the ballroom and bathrooms to get to her coat and clutch but what the hell. Let them stare, see if she cared.

  MacCale rushed past her and placed himself dead center in front of the door in a wide-legged stance. “What do you think you’re doing?” His tone was cool, his expression far from it.

  “Leaving,” she said.

  “In your birthday suit?”

  She cocked her head and nodded at her shoes. Technically, she wasn’t naked. Besides… “You really don’t leave me much choice, do you? Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul about our little escapade. Just don’t let anyone see you wearing that.” She motioned at the dress.

  “You think I’m going to let you parade yourself in front of everyone?”

  He was losing control and the upper hand, Lucie thought with satisfaction. She might still win this round, no matter how hard she had fallen under his spell a mere moment ago.

  “My body, my choice. Besides, I think they’ve seen worse.”

  “I think they’ve never seen anything better. That’s the problem,” he grumbled.

  A compliment? He was hands down the strangest, most baffling and enticing man she had had the misfortune of happening by in a long time.

  Out. Now! “I’m touched by your concern over my virtue, but there’s nothing to salvage, really. Now be a good boy and open the door for me, like a gentleman would.”

  He shrugged. “I seem to have left him at home.”

  “And we already established I’m a shameless demoiselle in no need of rescue. Open. The. Door.” She tried to look all threat and intimidation, feeling absolutely ridiculous facing off with a six-foot-and-several-inches-tall titan who could probably crush her with his pinky.

  “Tell me where you live,” MacCale demanded.

  “No.”

  His mouth tightened. Such a beautiful, kissable mouth.

  “Fine. Tell me where you work.”

  “No.”

  His nostrils flared. She hadn’t seen such a thing in ages. It plain fascinated her, the storm and the calm battling in him, aggression clashing with frustration.

  There was a good reason people shouldn’t live to two or three hundred as she had done. Who would even survive so much emotion? To keep her sanity, she had learned to play dead. But this man… He was so alive, so brimming with passion it almost hurt her merely watching him exude emotion.

  It did hurt and no good could ever come of that.

  “Are you prepared to be here all night, because I can be a tenacious bastard when I really put my mind to it,” he said. “I’ll get hungry and thirsty and I won’t settle for an appetizer. You’ll get cold and tired and you’ll have to curl up against me on that couch over there and we both know where that will lead, protection or no protection.”

  Lucie gave him a quick once-over. Her intuition had been honed to perfection through the decades. This man had a forceful edge but not the kind that didn’t take no for an answer. “You don’t strike me as a rapist. I usually see those coming.”

  “What?” He looked shocked for a moment but recovered fast. “I wouldn’t have to force you. If I remember correctly, you lured me in here. Told me to fuck you.”

  He had her there. In her deadened little heart she had been thrilled he had come after her. But now he was getting to her on so many levels her head was spinning and not the other way around as she had planned.

  “All right, that I did, more power to you,” she conceded. “Now, step away from the door and let me go.”

  Lucie was much more comfortable with her own devils than this devilishly tempting man she didn’t know Jack about.

  But you want to, don’t you? Aren’t you just a little bit curious how far he could take you?

  Hell no. He was dangerous, he only didn’t know it and she wasn’t going to educate him on that particular point.

  “Tell me where you work,” he insisted.

  He meant business, Lucie could tell.

  “I can hear your brain churning, little Lucie. And I can see you shivering. Are you cold, honey? Move closer and let me take care of that. Or if you prefer the dress, you know what to do.”

  She weighed her limited options fast. She could try to fight him but she doubted from the fit, tight look of him he would go down quietly. She knew several arts of attack and defense but maybe not enough or not the right ones to take the hulk down.

  Or…she could tell him a little white lie and let him believe he had won.

  “Smoke and Mirrors.”

  “That club?”

  He knew the place? “None other.”

  She could see surprise come alive in his eyes, then a spark of unbridled interest. It would be hard to stay away from her favorite time-outs for a while and ensure she would be home free, but she doubted he would set foot inside the LGTB club.

  She would never see his handsome face or hear his deep, seductive voice again.

  “What exactly do you do there?” he asked.

  “I answered your question. Now let me go.” It was her turn to witness him thinking a mile a minute as he helped her back into her dress. He pulled her hair from underneath the collar with gentle hands, tied the dress tightly around her waist and smoothed the silk down her back and derriere with his palms.

  “Now.” He stepped away from the door and opened it in a grand gesture. “You’re free to go. Celebrate it with a kiss?”

  “Have a good night, Mr. Moore.”

  “It’s all downhill from here, honey.”

  Lucie couldn’t help but smile as she stepped out. He didn’t follow her but she could almost feel his stare as she headed down the hall. Such a pitiful waste of good material but what else could she do?

  It had been a near-life encounter but she was free to breathe now. Free to leave. Free to get back to her game of catch and release, no strings or stones attached. Free to be as lonely and melancholy as she dared.

  Oh joy.

  Chapter Two

  Unable to stay awa
y from her favorite hot spot for another night longer, Lucie headed for Smoke and Mirrors a week later. She parked on the edge of town just so she could walk down the memory lane that was Martin Luther King Boulevard. It would always be West Broad Street to her. She’d spent countless fun-filled nights in the neighborhood listening and dancing to the jazz of the roaring twenties. The old buildings had been bulldozed to the ground to make way for new ones, but she could see the layers beneath as she made her way from block to block, remembering what business or club used to stand there as if it were yesterday.

  Smoke and Mirrors sat where one of her favorite social clubs had been situated, but that was only part of its eclectic charm. The entrance fee was collected at the door by the bouncer known simply as C, but unless you could say the password, there was no admittance. The correct word had always been Pulaski, a widely advertised fact, yet C had fun with the occasional tourist who had somehow missed the all-important information. Innocent fun, since his job was not only to attract customers but to talk patrons out of leaving before last call. In that department, he was one smooth talker.

  Waiting patiently for her turn in line, Lucie added a coat of lip gloss and dug up a note. The queue moved smoothly, quickly bringing her eye to eye—or eye to barn-door chest—with C. His size alone made anyone looking for a fight think twice.

  “Miss M,” he greeted her with a nod and a smile. If he was known by an initial only, so did he address the regulars.

  “Good evening, Mr. Pulaski.” Lucie passed him the note, which he pocketed without a glance.

  “I hope to see you later,” he said. “Much later.”

  The downstairs bar was already jam-packed, the air filled with mellow music, loud talk and even louder laughter, and perfumes to knock out an elephant. Slowly making her way to the stairs leading to the first floor, Lucie greeted the regulars and made note of the strange faces filling the several seating areas in the large lounge to capacity.

  She loved the LGTB club’s laid-back atmosphere with its wide range of patrons and debonair mix-and-match décor of delicate faux antique chairs flanking heavily carved mahogany tables. You could switch tables but you’d better take your seat along or lose it, and the downstairs bar was in a constant state of the most curious game of musical chairs she had ever seen.