by Lynn Cooper
I gently remove my hand from her neck and the other from the beneath her thigh, letting her back slowly slide down the wall until her booted feet hit the floor. I was so looking forward to removing them. To revealing her shapely calves and kissing her behind her knees. But I’m afraid that will have to wait until another time. Right now, I need to pull back a bit and lick my wounds.
Her beautiful blue eyes are wide with surprise and unanswered questions. While she pushes the bunched-up hem of her skirt down and straightens her blouse, I cram my cock back into my pants and take a seat across from the one holding her orange juice.
Almost timidly, she joins me. I hate I shortchanged her. Whatever her feelings for me, she was one-hundred percent into what we were doing. She was hot and horny and wanting me to fuck her long and hard. The old me would have in a New York minute.
She picks up her glass with a shaky hand and takes a sip while watching me over the rim. When she places it back in the holder, she asks, “Did I do something wrong, Quill?”
“No.”
“Then why did you stop?”
To steady my nerves, I take a deep breath and do the only thing I can do. I tell her what’s in my heart. The organ she resuscitated. The one I gave to her to have, to hold or even to break. It’s hers now to do with what she will. Clearing my throat, I say, “There’s a raw, rare and sacred baring of the soul which can only happen when two people are truly honest with each other, Zuri. So no matter how difficult it is, I’m going to speak the truth.”
Barely above a whisper, she says, “Okay.”
“I just confessed my love for you, Temptress. It pained me when you didn’t respond in kind.”
She opens her pretty mouth to speak, but I stop her. In part because I want to say what I need to but also because I am terrified of what she might say.
“Let me finish, please. Before you came into my life, I could fuck without conscience or feelings. I could pound a woman into the mattress for the purely physical pleasure of it and nothing more. But you changed all that, Zuri. You revived my cold, dead heart and breathed life back into me. A life I want to share only with you for as long as we both shall live.”
Her bottom lip quivers and her long lashes rapidly flutter away moisture from the corners of her eyes. I don’t know if she is crying because I’ve made her sad or happy. I have to grip the arms of my chair to keep from wiping the tears off her cheeks with my thumbs. To keep from kissing away every tremble of her chin and bob of her throat as she swallows down her emotions.
When she finally responds, I think I’m fully braced, but nothing could have prepared me for what comes out of her mouth.
“I don’t want you to love me. I don’t want to marry you. I don’t want any of this!” she screams, jumping up out of her seat.
I’m so stunned, I can’t move for a few moments. My temporary paralysis lasts long enough for her to unlock my office door and make it to the parking lot.
Like I did before, I use the backdoor exit and reach her just as her hand lands on the handle of the driver’s side door. Spinning her around to face me, I grab her waist and sit her on top of the hood of her car. She drops her head, refusing to make eye contact.
I grab her chin and force it up. “Look at me,” I demand. “You don’t want my love? Fine. You don’t want my marriage proposal? Okay. But don’t fucking tell me you don’t want any of this, because that’s a damn lie. And you and I, we’re better than bullshit dishonesty.”
I release her and take a step back to catch my breath. Her silence is like a rusty, jagged knife slicing through my flesh. And for the first time in years, I wish I was still a cutter. Any kind of physical pain is better than this emotional torture.
Her shoulders shake, and her beautiful face crumples. She’s in full-blown meltdown, and I feel helpless as hell to stop it. Words won’t work here. The only way I know how to make her feel good is wrong. Filthy. Illegal. But I don’t care about the consequences. Or the irony. Hell, wasn’t it an act of public indecency that brought me and Zuri together in the first place?
With my resolve fully engaged, I take her by the shoulders and push her onto her back. She doesn’t protest. She lets me position her while she stares up at the cold but clear, blue sky.
She may not love me or want to marry me, and she may not want my love, but I know for fucking certain she wants this. Working her skirt up around her hips, I place her feet flat on the hood, push her bent knees apart and lower my head.
With my palms pressing the insides of her thighs, I flatten my tongue against her inner labia, licking with long, languorous laps. She’s still crying but not as intensely. If there’s no way to soothe her with my words, I’ll do it with my actions.
When I focus all of my attention on her clitoris, those heartbreaking hiccups of sorrow turn into breathy little whimpers of pleasure. I decide against any flicking or swirling but instead choose to turn the tip of my tongue into a firm laser point of purpose. With the most intense movements, I manipulate that tiny button of nerves with the perfect combination of pressure and rhythmic motion.
The taste of her is driving me out of my mind. I’m in a state of frenzy by the time her hands grab hold and cling to my shoulders. She’s pulling me closer, not pushing me away. The relief I experience is almost as overwhelming as the euphoria I feel from eating her.
I slide my hands to the outside of her hips and still her squirming while I continue to feast on her femininity. I’ve never been hungrier and never more determined to make a woman climax. I want Zuri to come in my mouth. I want to swallow down her orgasm and make it a part of my very being. With her tears completely dried now and her body trembling with need, I double my efforts, boldly sucking her engorged love bud between my lips.
I smile inwardly as her hands fist in my sweater. She’s close but needs a little help. She needs to be penetrated. Pushing two fingers past her entrance, I slide them in and out, keeping rhythm with the suckling of her clit. Almost immediately, I hit her sweet spot. I can feel the tension building in her body, radiating through her until it culminates in quivering contractions of pleasure around my fingers.
When the pulsating aftershocks subside, I withdraw them from her body and stand up straight. With her eyes locked on mine, I lick off the dew of her desire. No matter what happens after this, her pleasure is mine. Zuri is mine.
She sits up without bothering to adjust her clothes. She looks so damn cute with her bare legs dangling off the hood and her pretty pussy glistening in the sunshine.
Chapter Thirteen
Zuri Patton
DR. MIDIAN LOOKS AT me like I am the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Like my pussy is the most decadent thing he has ever tasted. He shattered me and then put me back together again. He is exactly who I want and what I need, but I’m terrified to let him into my heart. I’m even more terrified of letting him go. The only way to face my fears is to share them with him.
Mustering all of my courage, I say, “Quill?”
“Yes, Temptress?”
“Will you be honest with me about something?”
“Always.”
“Why would you give me pleasure after I hurt you so deeply?”
He rubs his hand over his beard in that sexy way I’ve come to adore and says, “Because I love you like nobody’s business. And my love isn’t contingent on reciprocity. Because what you said about you and I being alike was spot on. When we hurt, it runs deep. When we love, it’s forever.”
I nod my agreement. “Do you know why I didn’t say I loved you, too?”
“Because you’re not over Ritter. You’re still in love with him.”
“I’m not in love with Ritter. In hindsight, I’m not sure I ever was.”
Quill shoves his hands in the front pockets of his black slacks, drawing my attention to his still-engorged cock. God, he is so damn animalistic and virile. Even in the midst of emotional turmoil, he gets and stays hard for me.
“I don’t understand, Zuri. You were
utterly devastated over his death. I thought your fiancé was your soulmate.”
I rub my eyes as if the effort can help me to see things more clearly. To explain them better to Quill. “I did love him. For what our relationship was, it was wonderful. But Ritter was not the man of my dreams. I didn’t realize it then, but I know it now. He never took my breath away like you do. He never made me feel like I was the only woman in the world.”
“Then why did you agree to marry him?”
“My father liked him. I wanted to please my father. I spent all of my life trying to appease and placate both my parents instead of doing what I wanted.”
“Like the way you stayed home with your mother instead of taking that car ride.”
“Just like that. Anyway, my father thought Ritter would make a great partner and that eventually he would take over the family business.”
“I see.”
“I don’t think you do. Don’t get me wrong; I really did care for my fiancé. His death did a number on my head and heart. Losing him tore me apart. I was so used to him and dependent on him. He was solid and familiar. Then he was suddenly gone, and the safety net beneath me got ripped away.”
“Is that what you want now? A safe bet? A man who is stable but boring as dirt?”
“No! I want you, jackass. I want all the craziness, the risk-taking, the excitement. Ritter didn’t care enough to chase after me like you do. He didn’t have the guts to go down on me in a parking lot near a busy highway where anybody could see. He didn’t love me enough to learn how to dance. I’m so sorry he died. But I’m glad he and I didn’t get married. And I’m thankful his tragic death brought us together. I love you, Dr. Midian, and it scares the shit out of me.”
He pulls his hands from his pockets and tenderly cups my face. “Why, Zuri?”
“Because as bad as it hurt to lose Ritter, it would be a million times more excruciating to lose you. I can’t suffer through another heartbreak, especially one that would surely kill me.”
His black eyes bore into mine until they reach the very essence of my soul. “I will never hurt you, Temptress. Give me your heart, and I’ll protect it always. Nothing or no one can ever make me break it.”
“I believe you. I trust that you wouldn’t intentionally do me any harm. But you can’t control everything. You can’t stop a drunk driver from plowing into you on your commute home. You can’t keep lightning from striking you during a storm. You can’t guarantee me that you will always be healthy and won’t ever die and leave me.”
“No, I can’t. But neither can you. Sometimes when you become so absorbed with preventing your own pain, you fail to see the other side of the coin,” he says, kissing my forehead before continuing. “I’ve had my own share of sadness, too. And when I think about ever losing you, my chest caves in. I can’t breathe, and I suffocate under the mere anticipation of grief.”
“Then we’re doomed,” I say, interrupting him.
“No. We are not doomed. We are destined. And we are lucky as hell to have this chance to love each other. To be happy. To spend our lives together as long as we can. I want that, don’t you?”
“I do,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He carries me back into the building that way. We enter through the front door, and he says, “Helen, cancel all of my appointments for the rest of the day. Then you take off and spend some precious time with your darling granddaughter.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, smiling brightly as Quill closes his door and locks us in his office.
He pushes the coffee table out of the way, strips off his clothes and then mine before laying me down on the plushly-woven, area rug.
Pulling me to his chest, he slips his hand between my thighs.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Touching what’s mine,” he growls, pressing his palm against my pussy.
I grasp the rounded edge of the rug as the sexy beard covering Quill’s jaw seductively scrapes across my cheek. His lips graze over my neck, and the electricity sizzling between us makes me desperate for more.
He lifts his head, and his onyx eyes fix on my face while his broad chest expands with deep, even breaths. He’s watching for my reaction when he presses his finger against my clitoris. I shudder and my breath comes out in shaky sighs. He smiles, knowing how much power he has over me.
Deftly, he fingers me, tracing and teasing spirals around the center of my pleasure with such tenderness I could cry. The ache inside me roars to an unbearable intensity, and I grow hotter and wetter, aching for all he might give me.
Through gasps of ecstasy, I say, “I love you, Quill. I love you so much.”
“I love you, Temptress. More than you will ever know. And I’m going to claim every inch of you from the inside out until you never doubt my heart or that it’s me you belong to.”
My fingernails score his bulging biceps as I careen toward climax. He is so good at making me come.
His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me tight against him. The warmth of his body reminds me of how horribly lonely and cold I was inside until he found me that morning at Doyle Pleasant. As my mind drifts back to the memory, he cups my breast and takes the rose-colored nipple into his mouth. My heart hammers in my chest as he swirls his tongue around my areola while leisurely caressing the cheeks of my ass.
His hands are so big and strong and feel incredible on my skin. His cock is thick, hard and unyielding as it presses against my belly. I love being pinned down by him with his body engulfing mine.
With his manhood throbbing between us, he groans and kisses his way up my throat and over my jawline to my slightly-parted lips. When his mouth captures mine, I spread my legs wider, and the crown of his cock presses against my folds. The sensation is bone-meltingly sensual. A blossoming feeling of being sexually awakened—combined with the thrill of my breasts against his chest and the thickness of him pushing inside, stretching me, filling me—is absolutely euphoric.
All I want and need is for him to lose control. To give in to this thing that has been consuming both of us. To take me all the way and fuck me right here on his office floor. The daredevil in me wants to provoke him until he thrusts like a bull, grunts and growls like an animal and devours every inch of me.
Just as we were in sync while dancing, he reads my needs now. He stares into my eyes for that first breathtaking, tingling thrust. My mouth opens on a breathy “Oh,” and his restraint snaps.
Gentleness and tenderness are pushed aside by wanton lust and desire. A gravelly curse falls from his lips. His body quakes. Passion and desire thrums through him as he drives deep inside me with wild abandon.
His hips become pistons, thrusting fast and furious, pounding my pussy so hard I fear I won’t be able to take it. But I do. I take it all the way to his balls, riding his shaft until I come again. Until my inner muscles squeeze him in a vise grip, sparking an orgasm in him so brutal yet beautiful, he roars like the majestic king of the jungle. My ferocious lion leaves me purring with satisfaction as he collapses onto his side then pulls me into his warm embrace.
His love encompasses every cell of my being, filling my chest until the emotion is the sole force that pumps my heart. Together, we drift off into a sweet, easy sleep, knowing a lifetime of happiness lies ahead of us.
Epilogue—Six months later.
THE LAST SESSION OF my court-ordered therapy ended with me marrying my therapist. Our cozy, simple wedding ceremony took place in the waiting room. I didn’t want an engagement ring. I had already been there, done that. So Quill and I chose matching wedding bands inscribed with the word
forever on the inside.
Latasha did my hair and makeup, and Helen was my maid of honor. Greyson was Quill’s best man. Lucas and Layla were the cutest ring boy and flower girl ever.
My parents attended but made clear their reservations about my choice of husband. With Quill by my side, I made it clear my happiness took precedence over their opinions. In time, wit
h some well-placed boundaries, I think my relationship with them will be better and stronger than before.
Dominic fired me as his dog walker, but that was a good thing. Fawn quit working for Greyson and became head scene coordinator at Dominic’s Dungeon. She’s in heaven, shoving ball gags into players’ mouths and whipping their bare asses.
Quill took some time off, and we traveled over much of Europe during our month-long honeymoon. When we got back, Helen announced her retirement. While we were away, she realized life was too short to miss a single second with her grandchildren.
I had the same epiphany about spending more time with my husband. So I became Quill’s full-time receptionist. In between making appointments, answering the phone, and handing out beverages, I manage to steal a few kisses from my man. In between patient sessions, he finds opportunities to grope, eat and fuck me. Every time his hands and mouth are on me and his cock is in me, I recall what he once said:
If you were mine, I’d fuck you in every room of this office building until your honey coated every surface. I’d make you come every chance I got, multiple times an hour for the entire duration of the day and night. You’d squirm beneath me, begging and pleading for me to stop torturing you with pleasure.
Well, I am his—his for the tempting—and he makes good on those promises every single day.
OTHER BOOKS BY LYNN COOPER
Each book in the Plus Size Romance Series is a standalone with no overlapping characters, storylines or cliffhangers. They are the perfect combination of romance, steamy love scenes and humor. The stories are sensual and romantic, uplifting and lighthearted. Feel-good reads that leave you feeling great!