Scream My Name

by Kimberly Kaye Terry

  She’d only bounced twice on the bed before he was beside her, grasping both of her hands within one of his big ones and stretching them above her head.

  Deftly he removed his belt and with the expertise of a master scout, secured her hands, murmuring against her ear. “Wouldn’t want you to try and escape before we can even begin.”

  “What are you doing, you big brute? Let me go!” she panted, her breath coming out in harsh gasps when he tightened his impromptu restraints. “No damn way are you doing this, Brandan! I’m serious, let me up!”

  He inserted one big hand inside the bodice of her dress, thumbing her extended nipple, before pulling the fabric to the side and capturing her turgid peak in his mouth and slowly releasing it.

  Leila clamped her legs tight to prevent the cream from easing out of her vagina, valiantly ignoring her body’s reaction, and renewed her struggles in earnest.

  He stood and swiftly shed his clothing, and in the dark, his long cock stood stiff and proudly erect, curving against his ripped abdomen, pulsing.

  Her pussy, the traitorous hussy, clenched at the sight. She shut her eyes, her heart pounding.

  She heard a telltale rip and reluctantly opened her eyes to see him sheathing his rod, his big hands almost obscene looking as they roughly smoothed the prophylactic over his straining dick in one quick movement.

  He slanted his mouth over hers just as she was about to let him know what she really thought of his caveman, over-the-top antics, muffling the curses she was ready to let fly.

  She fought him, kicking at any available body part she could reach, not really giving a damn if it was one he might need in the future, that is, if he ever wanted a family.

  He rolled with her on her California king bed, their limbs tangled together until she was trapped beneath him, one of his hands grasped her bound wrists.

  “If I let you go, do you promise to be a good girl?” he licked the shell of her ear, and brought the lobe into his mouth with his teeth before slowly releasing it.

  “Answer my question. Will you be a good girl if I let you go?”

  “I got your good girl, buddy,” she said and renewed her struggles in earnest. She just barely kept her laughter in check with their WWW moves on the bed.

  “Be still and let me in this pussy,” he growled, and shoved his tongue deep inside her mouth. He loosened the belt, allowing her hands to be free. He moved down her body, shoved her skirt up her legs, and nosed aside her slick folds. When he thrust his tongue deep inside her, her body completely lifted away from the bed.

  She grabbed his head and instead of shoving it away—as she should have—she pulled him deeper, tighter, closer. She threw back her head, her eyes rolling backwards as a tingling, almost burning sensation swept over her.

  The pressure continued to build, until her limbs shook and her breath came out in harsh hiccups, as his long tongue rolled and frolicked inside her body.

  “Stop, please, stop!” she begged, incoherent in her desires, instinctually seeking to back away from his hot strokes.

  He anchored her to him, and tongued her in long, wicked glides. When he shoved two fingers inside her weeping core, she broke.

  He wasted no time. As she was riding the wave of her orgasm, she felt his shaft glide on home, pushing past her swollen, passion-thickened vaginal lips, and press deep inside her core.

  Leila arched her back sharply and dug the heels of her feet into the bed as he fed her his dick in tortuously slow increments, until he was all the way in.

  “Please…wait,” she panted and growled low in her throat. But he ignored her plea, pushed her legs further apart, and pressed all the way home.

  He didn’t stop until he was completely housed with her, didn’t pause until he had every inch inside, until her core was filled to the brim with his massive cock.

  Brandan stared down at the sexually abandoned expression on Leila’s beautiful honey-colored face, saw the red tinge underscoring her skin, and grit his teeth, trying to give her enough time to accustom herself to him.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice rough, raw.

  He remained still as he could inside her, but couldn’t prevent his hips from flexing, slowly grinding against her. He felt the minute her slick walls relaxed their death-grip on his cock, and with a sigh he felt her move against him.

  She kept her eyes closed and gave a short nod of her head, her lips partially opened, small puffs of air escaping from between their full rims.

  With a groan he grabbed onto her hips and began to thrust in shallow strokes into her.

  She clenched around his shaft, milking and clenching him as he plunged into her sweet honeyed depths.

  The walls of her pussy grabbed onto his cock desperately, causing flames to shoot electric fire directly from his balls and cock straight to his gut like a bolt of lightning.

  She felt so damn good wrapped around him.

  He hadn’t meant to fuck her in a damn bathroom stall, of all places.

  Shit.

  They’d been dancing around each other for so long. He couldn’t get a handle on their relationship—one minute they were burning hot, and the next they were at each other like two pit bulls…and when she’d defied him, coming to the fundraiser with Mateo, despite his threat of what would happen if she did, he’d seen red.

  All rational thought had flown out the window, and his vision had become tunnel. He had to get at her, had to claim her as his. Nothing else had mattered.

  She belonged with him for as long as it took for them both to get the other out of their system.

  She was his, despite the anger and tension surrounding them, despite the fact that she denied this…this…connection between them.

  He’d known they’d be amazing together. No way in hell it would be anything else, not the way she was built…the way she moved. But he hadn’t expected the emotional entanglement that had come along with it. He burned hot for her, constantly. She was on his mind every damn waking moment of the day. He thought about her constantly…he ran a hand down the swell of her hips, trailing down her smooth thighs.

  Their chemistry was explosive, unlike anything he’d ever experienced with a woman, ever thought was even possible.

  Brandan clenched his teeth together, and grunted deep in his throat when her inner walls pulsed on his dick with delicate yet robust ferocity.

  And then she moved.

  Slowly she ground against him in a sensual beat only she heard, and his strokes became stronger, his dick pressed deep into her body before stroking back out until the knob of his shaft sat at her slick entry, only to plunge back inside.

  “Ummm.” The mewling sigh of pleasure only served to make him harder, and brought an answering growl from his own mouth as she met him stroke for stroke.

  He thought his body would incinerate when she angled her hips so that he hit the walls of her pussy in such a way his dick felt as though a thousand tiny feathers were running along the length of it.

  He’d never felt anything like it in his life. It was as though her pussy was alive.

  Vibrant and unpredictable. Just like her.

  “Damn!” he bit out the expletive.

  He grabbed her hands in his and forced them high above her head.

  Her eyes were like slits, nearly closed. Her pleasure, a tangible, breathing entity, made his cock thicken to painful proportions inside her. His heart beat heavily against his chest, and his balls tightened as he watched her panting breaths escape from between her pouty, juicy lips.

  He picked up the tempo of his thrusts, driving inside her relentlessly, his body on fire, sweat dripping from him to her, mingling and running down the midline of her breasts, pressed together with her arms in position.

  With every powerful jab inside her wet heat, her head bounced against the wall, against one of her thick pillows. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—stop the hard, pounding thrusts.

  Being inside her was more exhilarating than anything he’d ever experienced.

&n
bsp; As he dragged in and out of her heat, with each plunge her small, beautiful breasts jostled and swayed, gently slapping against each other. With a growl, he held her hands within one of his own, and moved the other down to nudge away her locs from the top of her breasts and grasp as much of one perfectly rounded mound that he could.

  He molded and massaged the firm orb with strong fingers before he pinched and tugged on the long, dark wine-colored nipple. She gave a mewling, kittenish sound of pleasure, arching her back and pressing more of her breasts into his hand.

  His breathing came out in harsh groans as he stared down at the picture she presented. Caught up in her pleasure, her beauty was mesmerizing.

  Her head lay to the side of the pillow, her eyes were closed, and she had captured the bottom rim of her lush lower lip with her small top teeth. Her long locs were wildly spread, partially obscuring her breasts and stomach, providing her with an intimate blanket.

  His nostrils flared. Her natural scent, mixed with the smell of sex, enveloped him, ensnaring him in her unique web.

  Brandan bent down to inhale her, nuzzling aside several long locs to breathe in her intoxicating scent.

  She mewled, rooting closer to him, and he leaned down to lick the side of her neck with the flat of his tongue.

  “Delicious,” he murmured against her neck.

  Her taste was sweet and salty. A hedonistic combination of milk chocolate and peppermint.

  Brandan took his time playing with her breasts, swirling his tongue around the large chocolate disk of fat areole with the flat of his tongue, up and over her plump sweet nipple, before he pulled it deep inside his mouth while he rocked into her pussy.

  “Brandan…” she cried in a strangled voice, her body surging up to meet his thrusts.

  “Is it good to you, baby? Do you like what I’m doing to you? What we’re doing to each other?”

  “Yes…yes,” she cried out.

  “I need to come now,” the words were torn from his throat. “Are you ready?”

  She closed her eyes and widened her legs, which allowed him to dig into her that much more. She rolled and twisted her hips, skewering his cock with abandon.

  Brandan knew he couldn’t last much longer.

  “Now,” he roared.

  He reared his body up, away from hers. He firmly gripped her lush hips with his hands, digging his fingers into her flesh and furiously pumping inside of her, trying to hold on to the pleasure of her pussy as long as he could.

  In hard strokes he rocked into her. Every thrust, every jab of his cock, he took them both that much closer to release, that much closer to rapture.

  “Ooh, God!” she screamed. “Yes!”

  He released his grip on her hips, grabbed both of her wrists again with one of his hands, and held them pinned above her head. He pumped into her furiously, delivering short staccato thrusts, jamming into her body, rocking them both into ecstasy, so harshly, her head easing toward the headboard so that he had to adjust her body, moving her back down toward the middle of the bed.

  The only sounds in the room were her moaning wails, his heavy breathing, and the bed banging against the wall.

  Brandan slammed his mouth over hers, swallowing her cries, and screwed into her with tight, controlled, circular motions, savage pleasure crawling through his gut with every clench of her pussy clamping his dick.

  When he felt his balls swell, throb, as they tapped against her ass with each stroke, he knew it was time. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He was seconds from detonating.

  He relented, gave up the battle.

  Throwing his head back, he shut his eyes tight and growled deep from within his throat as all the blood rushed from his head with the power of his orgasm. He felt his cum spurt in painful streams from his body with the power of his release.

  20

  When he flipped their bodies so that she lay draped on top of his big, hard sweaty body, Leila lifted a limp hand and laid it on top of his chest, her body relaxed, at ease. Sated.

  She felt boneless.

  “That’s what will happen whenever you challenge me, Lee,” he murmured, the hairs on his chest tickling her cheek as he rumbled the response.

  Leila’s heart seemed to skip a beat at his response, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end.

  Despite the laxity of her limbs and the all-around good feeling she had—the kind of feeling a woman got when she’d been good and pleased by a man—damn if she’d let him think he was the boss of her.

  No man was the boss of her.

  She ignored the taunting laugh in her head telling her she sounded like a taciturn toddler.

  She forced her relaxed limbs to cooperate and before he knew what hit him, she’d flipped his body away, silently thanked her instructor, Master Yong, for the skills he’d taught, and had jumped off the bed. After landing on the balls of her feet, Leila swiftly spun around.

  Brandan, now sprawled on the bed, his legs splayed apart, and his gorgeous cock…damn it, Leila forced her eyes away…He continued to lie where she dumped him. Before he could hide it, a look of surprise on his face forced a pleased grin on hers. “Get out,” she demanded.

  He laid back, propped his leg to the side, his penis, no longer erect yet still thick, lay enticingly to the side of his inner thigh.

  Leila looked away.

  “You heard me, Brandan…I want you to go,” she insisted.

  She turned to face him, ready to see a mocking look on his face.

  There was none. Instead, he leaned up and gently held his hand out to her, silently begging her to take it, to take him.

  She took a deep breath. She didn’t want him thinking he could get away with manhandling her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. The apology seemed to shock him more than her, and despite her ambivalent feelings, she felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips.

  What in the world was she going to do with him, with her confusing feelings for him, and their odd relationship?

  Leila sighed, and placed her jumbled thoughts and confusing feelings to the side.

  She placed her hand in his and allowed him to draw her back to the bed.

  He pulled her body in front of his, her back to his chest, and wrapped his arms around her, before resting his head lightly against the top of her head.

  Leila expelled a breath of air, and curled her body inside his, and fell asleep, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of tangled emotions.

  21

  “Wow, you look…different, but cute! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wearing anything so casual before. What’s the special occasion? Supporting the Spurs?”

  Leila laughed, and spun around in her pink and white Nikes, showing off her outfit of faded jeans and a San Antonio Spurs’ jersey, before she quickly glanced around to make sure all her customers were taken care.

  Once she was assured they were, she asked, “May I?” indicating the seat opposite one of her favorite customers, Danita Adams.

  “Girl, of course!”

  Leila pulled back the chair and sat down, unable to keep the grin from her face. “I have a date to go see the Spurs pull out a can of whoop-ass on the Nuggets,” she replied, laughing.

  “Oooh, who with? No, let me guess…that big, fine, Stetson-wearing tycoon who’s been sniffin’ around you for the last few weeks?” Danita laughed when Leila’s grin widened.

  “Ummm, girl, spill the beans! What’s been going on with you two? The last thing I heard from you was that he was hell-bent on trying to steal your land, and you were just as hell-bent on stopping him. A regular Hatfield—McCoy type of relationship,” she laughed, and Leila laughed along with her at the analogy.

  “Yeah, well, we’re at an impasse with that one.”

  “Called a temporary cease-fire, did you? Ummm, must be some good loving going on for that to happen.” Danita replied, raising a brow as she drank her tea.

  “I am not saying a word about that. My lips are sealed!” She replied, moving two
closed fingers across her mouth as though she were zipping them shut.

  “Your lips may be sealed, but I’d lay ten-to-one odds that’s about all that’s sealed!”

  “Oooh, no you didn’t!” Leila burst out laughing. “You are too much!”

  “You may as well spill. You know you want to, anyway…what’s been going on since the last time we spoke?” Danita asked, propping her elbows on the table, a mischievous grin flirting around her small, pursed lips.

  Leila sighed, and immediately began to spill. Just like Danita knew she would.

  She hadn’t talked about her relationship with Brandan with anyone. The only one who was aware of what was going on was Hawk, and she didn’t feel comfortable talking about it with him, although he was the closest person to her. It felt somehow…strange when she’d tried to. Instead, she’d kept all her doubts, fears…and excitement to herself. She had no real close girlfriends, just casual acquaintances. Danita was the closest she had to a real “girlfriend.” It was a strange relief to have someone to share her burgeoning feelings about Brandan with, at last.

  Danita had moved to San Antonio a few years ago at the urging of her assistant and good friend, Larissa, after completing her dissertation to earn her clinical license in psychotherapy.

  After striking out on her own, she’d gradually earned a solid reputation as an outstanding therapist, and within two years of opening, now had a nice office in private practice in an exclusive area of town.

  But she’d worked hard for every bit of success she’d acquired.

  Before she had been able to afford to move into her own office space, in the very beginning, she’d come to Aunt Sadie’s early in the mornings, before the diner grew crowded, tugging her portal office of cell phone and laptop.

  When it wasn’t busy, Leila would sit down with the woman and talk, and although not exactly friends, they’d formed a bond, the type of bond two women who were in business for themselves, struggling to be successful, created. From there it had grown into a friendship, one that Leila valued.