Ultra Strokes

by Delilah Devlin

  “Then maybe it’ll be long enough for you to know me.”

  He shook his head, a slight smile curving the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I know you. I called you a wimp when you were scared. Got you riled enough to gun it and run that truck through the barricade. I wanted to kiss you when we made it back to camp.”

  His cock crowded through swollen tissue. I bit my bottom lip as I savored the stretch. “Really?”

  “Yeah, but Marla was still part of my life, or so I thought.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “And it would’ve been breakin’ the rules.”

  “That, too.” He cleared his throat. “Think we might finish this up before some cop comes drivin’ by and arrests both our naked asses?”

  “Don’t you think he’d give two soldiers home from war a break?”

  “Maybe, but I’m not in the mood to have to flash him my own badge, and I don’t want anyone seein’ your ass but me.”

  I rose and fell, squeezing my pussy hard, making double-damn sure he knew I wasn’t going to rush a minute of my first Jake-induced orgasm. “When we wrap up this week in bed, will I see you again?”

  His fingers dug into my hips. “Think I need a war to know I need this—and you?”

  “A girl likes to know she’s more than a fuck.”

  “Baby, I do believe you’re gonna be my favorite fuck.”

  I rammed down his cock and held still, glaring daggers at his sly smile.

  His gaze held mine as he fit two fingers into the top of my folds and rubbed my clit, toggling back and forth.

  My whole body shivered, and I gave a whimper.

  “Can’t resist it, can you? Gonna do what I ask, baby? Gonna come for me now?”

  I closed my eyes and rocked forward and back, grinding against him, building friction, getting wetter and wetter. When he leaned toward me and kissed my mouth, I cried out and burrowed my tongue in his mouth, tasting him fully for the first time as waves of hot and cold pleasure rippled through me.

  I vibrated on his cock, squeezing, releasing, and then his thighs tensed beneath me, and he shoved up then down, tunneling deeper, stroking in and out until, at last, he shuddered and his whole body tightened. Come spurted deep inside me, and I gave quick thanks to the fact I was still on the pill. Neither of us was ready for complications.

  His mouth softened beneath mine, and he rubbed his lips on mine before pulling back. “Do something for me?”

  “I just did,” I murmured, grinning.

  “Stay naked. I like the idea of you slickin’ up the leather while I drive.”

  I grinned and eased slowly off his cock and to the side, but he didn’t make a move to cover himself up. We sat half naked, the darkness dropping like a curtain around us. His shoulder was angled against his door as he continued to look me over.

  “We spendin’ the night here?”

  “Wouldn’t be the worst place we’ve slept,” he murmured.

  “Ain’t that the truth?” When he continued to sit there, staring, I guessed he was waiting again for me to show him what I wanted.

  And what I wanted was his gaze roaming over all of me. I pulled my tee over my head, let my bra slide off my arms, and then leaned against my door, a foot on the bench seat as I parted my thighs and fingered my sex.

  His gaze dropped to my pussy. His cock, which hadn’t fully lost its starch, slowly thickened again. When his hand gripped his shaft, I gave a little whimper, just enough of a sound to let him know I wanted to watch. He gave himself several firm tugs, stroking his hand up and down.

  Lord, he was a beautiful sight—his face tight and hard with arousal, his muscles of his ripped belly tensing, his thick cock jutting from a nest of black hair. His pants obscured the view of his balls, and I lifted my chin. “Doesn’t seem fair. You can see all of me.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about fair.”

  The way his gaze narrowed to mean slits turned me on so much, I had to look away. “Bastard.” As my breaths shortened to rasping pants, I curved two fingers and thrust them inside my pussy. Fuck the asshole. I’d make myself come. With my free hand, I caressed a breast, then patted the underside to make it jiggle. When he arched a brow, I smacked it, giving him an unsubtle hint of what I wanted next—if he decided to move his lazy ass and give it to me.

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He faced forward and opened his door. With his dick out, he strode around the front of the Mustang.

  My gaze turned to follow him, but I didn’t budge, continuing to pleasure myself, until he opened the door, forcing me to sit forward or fall to the ground. Then hands went under my arms and slid me out of the car. When my bare feet dropped to the dirt, he pushed my shoulders, forcing me to bend over the seat.

  I heard the slide of fabric and nearly laughed—he was removing his belt! His boots tapped the insides of my feet, one at a time, telling me silently to widen my stance.

  I made a noise, a grunting protest, but opened, knowing what he was looking at, hoping he was tempted to play.

  The first lash of his belt on my ass had me hissing between my teeth. It wasn’t a gentle stroke. He’d given me a snap of hard canvas, and I knew he’d raised a welt. The pause that followed was him, waiting for me to complain, but I held silent, knowing we both needed this. It was a chance to let off some steam, to release any lingering anger. Wipe us both clean and build a bond between us in a very intimate way as we learned about each other’s secret desires.

  He followed with several more pops, laying stripes on the curve of my bottom and the tender join between ass and thigh. From the corner of my eye, I watched as he meticulously rolled the belt into a tight coil. What was he doing now?

  A moment later, I knew. He pushed the tight roll into my vagina, then holding it inside with one finger, he tugged on the end, unrolling it slowly as he pulled it free.

  “I have all these fantasies, Jill,” he whispered. “Ones I stored away while I lay on my cot—of all the things I wanted to do to you.”

  “You dreamed of wetting your belt inside my pussy?” I drawled.

  “I dreamed of whipping your pussy with my wet belt. You going to stay still while I do it?”

  Since his voice was tight with excitement, how could I not? I rose on tiptoe, lifting my ass then slipped a hand beneath me to reach for the top of my folds. I exposed my engorged clit and held my breath.

  Beside me where I could see, he doubled the belt and wound the ends around his fist. When he drew his hand out of sight, I shivered in anticipation.

  A large palm rubbed my hot bottom. “A week might not be enough,” he said, his voice rough as sandpaper. The first strike hit my slit lengthwise.

  I couldn’t help it, I was so surprised I yelped.

  The next was a sharp pop that struck my labia and my clit. Moisture flooded my channel and I rubbed my tits against the leather seat, needing more stimulation, wanting more heat.

  Another pop, sharper than before, shocked me into a scream.

  The belt landed on the floorboard. There was a rustling behind me, and then something hot and slick glided over my folds. His tongue! “Yes,” I sobbed. “Fuck, yeah.”

  His tongue hardened against me and slid inside me, lapping in circles around my entrance, and thrusting so deep his nose and chin scraped my intimate flesh.

  “Jake!”

  He drew away, and his hand petted my sex, soothing me. When he lifted it, I knew more was coming, and tensed. Firm slaps warmed my pussy. I was so wet the sound of each impact was a nasty, juicy tease.

  Again, he petted my cunt, stroking my length, fingers teasing into me to swirl then pulling way.

  Rustling sounded again. Hands gripped the sides of my hips and lifted me. Jake’s cockhead nudged my entrance, and I curled my toes and slid one hand between the seats and the other around the dash to hold tight.

  He drove straight inside in a single, powerful stroke, pushing the air from my lungs. Then he followed it with more rough, jolting thrusts. His movements were raw, barely
rhythmic. The sounds he made so primal, I thrilled.

  He pounded me, over and over, and if I’d thought my skin was hot before, every inch of my sex and channel burned. Again, I felt the tension tighten in my core.

  “You’re so fucking hot. So goddamn tight. Fuck, Hollister, better than I dreamed.”

  “Jill, you bastard,” I gasped. “Or can’t you remember my name?” I only groused because the only other option was to beg him to end this. I rubbed my face on the warm leather, slipped my hand from my cunt to pinch my nipple. I dug a nail into the tender bit and squirmed on his cock.

  From one breath to the next, he was out of me, turning me. My knees struck his cock, but he only grunted, slapped my pussy, and with his thumb, pushed on my clit as I gave a long, painful groan. “God, just fuck me, Jake.”

  His cock was so erect it tapped his belly as he bent toward me. “You hold it,” he gritted out. “Put me inside you.”

  My hands slid around his warm, wet shaft, and I gave him a firm pull, drawing him closer. Then I curled upward so I could reach into his pants for his balls. I cupped them, rolled them in my palm, hefting their weight as I rubbed my thumb over his velvety sack.

  His nostrils flared as he watched me. “Thought you wanted me to fuck you.”

  I lifted my chin. “What’s my name?”

  He smirked. “Jennifer. Sarah.”

  I gave him a mock scowl and pulled harder on his cock until the tip bumped against my swollen sex,

  “Jill. It’s Jill. Think I’ll ever forget?” he whispered.

  “Huh.” I gave him a glide, then lifted my legs, fitting my feet against the doorway and wriggling my ass over the edge of the seat, taking him inside me. Then I cupped my breasts and lifted them. “Do it.”

  His eyes closed and he pulsed forward, sliding deep. Again, he worked my pussy, pushing in and pulling out through hot engorged tissue. I needed to come, but perversely wanted it to never end. I like the view too much. His hardened features, his dark gaze, that tough, lean frame—all his attention focused on our pleasure.

  When his movements quickened, I was there with him, encouraging him with bucking hips and a string of dirty talk. “Fuck me harder. You’re so fucking good, fucking big. Give me that big cock. Oh God, now!” My back arched and scraped my nails across his belly. A wave of pure pleasure washed over me, sucking me into an undertow that stole my breath and thoughts.

  When I revived, he was kissing me breasts, my throat, his hands skated my sides and the curve of my ass as he shook me in his grip. Again, liquid heat filled me in juicy pulses.

  He collapsed atop me. Our faces rubbed, and I reveled in the scrape of his shadow against my cheek.

  A chuckle shook against me. “Give me that big cock?”

  I drew away and gave him a glare. “Do not make fun of me now.”

  “I’m not. Swear.” But he laughed until his cock slid from my body. Then he kissed me. It was sweet. Tongue-less. “I like this. I like you, Hollister.”

  I shook my head. “There you go again, pissin’ me off.”

  He grinned and pushed up, then helped me move my cramped legs downward. He held out his hand and waited until I gave him mine and hauled me up to sit on the edge of his leather seat. After scraping off his T-shirt, he cleaned me, rubbed himself dry and tossed the shirt over his shoulder.

  Night had fallen. The moon and stars shone brightly as he walked around the car and slid behind the wheel, turning the key to set the engine rumbling. While he tucked himself back into his pants and changed gears to pull out onto the highway, I settled beside him, my thighs slightly parted to let them cool and dry.

  He placed a hand between my legs and cupped my pussy. “Any complaints?” he asked, his smile digging a dimple into one cheek.

  I reached for my tee and dragged it over my head, snuggled into the leather and closed my eyes. “I’ll let you know, soldier.” So what if I didn’t have a toothbrush or a change of clothes? The fingers gliding through my folds were determined and sparking a third coming that had me sliding lower in my seat. I trusted him. He knew me. It was enough for now. We’d come home and neither of us wanted to be alone.

  The scrubby live oaks and cedar trees dotting the rugged hills blurred as my eyelids fell. I smiled, thinking about how I must look—tanned legs spread, t-shirt bundled under my breasts.

  His thumb rasped my swollen clit. I peeked at him. His face was turned away, but he was smiling too, and looking like a man well-satisfied with how things had gone down.

  “Are you sorry it’s me?” I asked, then instantly regretted it. I didn’t want to sound needy.

  His eyes reflected the lights from the dash when he shot me a quick glare. “I was pissed she didn’t bother to show, but when you jumped into my car, I realized I didn’t even know what color her eyes were.” He gave a snort. “Yours, sweetheart, are golden-brown with little green flecks. I’ve noticed things about you from the very start. Wanted you before the time was right for both of us. If I hadn’t wanted you in this car, I’d have patted your butt and sent you on your way.”

  I faced forward again, satisfied that was probably the most romantic thing the man might ever tell me. I cupped my hand over the one still playing between my thighs and settled in for the long ride.

  About The Author

  Delilah Devlin is a prolific and award-winning author of sexy romance, erotica, and erotic romance with a reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. Whether creating dark, erotically-charged paranormal worlds or richly descriptive historical and contemporary stories that ring with authenticity, Delilah Devlin “pens in uncharted territory that will leave the readers breathless and hungering for more…” (Paranormal Reviews).

  Ms. Devlin has published over a hundred sixty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she has been published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Kindle, Kindle Worlds, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.

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