“Spread your legs.”
She whimpered, but he didn’t have to repeat himself this time. Putting a hand on his head for balance, she moved her feet apart.
He used his arm to bring her close. He was sure she could feel his hot breath on her clit. He put his thumb at the opening to her pussy and his first two fingers at her ass. She quivered out an anxious breath as he pushed in.
His fingers were wet but not lubed and he knew she’d feel the hot scrape of it when he shoved them in, just like he had when she’d done the same. He was using two fingers, though, and they both knew it would be a hard taking.
He held there for a good long moment, his breath on her clit, his thumb just outside her pussy, and his two fingers breaching her sphincter. She shivered and rasped out his name.
Then he took her all at once. His mouth closed on her clit, drawing her in, hard. His thumb shoved up her cunt, stretching her wide. And his fingers pushed up into her ass.
She cried out right away, an anxious, keening breath. She kept it up as he worked her, pitch rising as he drove her up.
She took more of it than he could have imagined. She had both hands on his head and she was bucking, nudging her clit to his mouth. She sank down a little, opening herself to more stimulation from his hand.
Her breath turned to shrieks, screams as she came. Her body shuddered, wracking spasms that buckled her knees. It was long and brutal, and she ended it collapsed in his arms.
He held her there, stroking and soothing, for a long time. When the spray from the shower started to cool he reached up and turned it off.
“Come on, baby. We have to move.”
“I can’t.”
“I’ll take care of it.” That was his intention, but it was several long moments before he could lift to his feet and steady Delilah on hers. He wrapped a towel around her and headed her out of the shower. He toweled off just a little, too, as he herded her to the bed.
They went down together.
“I’m done,” she said. “No more sex.”
“No problem,” he assured. “I won’t be able to fuck you again for, oh, hours, at least.” He was rubbing his thumb over her lips and felt her smile.
“You think I’m kidding. I’m not. I’ve had enough to last me, well, forever.” He chuckled, pretty sure he’d be able to change her mind.
Hours, though. At least.
* * * *
In fact, that orgy of over-the-top, mind-blowing sex lasted them a while. They dozed for a bit, waking when the fog was gone and the sun bright.
They negotiated plans for the rest of the weekend. Delilah seemed as content as he was to spend most of it together. She didn’t even object to his implied assumption that they would.
He played A-league tennis a couple times a week and had a game scheduled that afternoon, plus he had some work he needed to do. She wanted to bike and explore. They’d meet back for dinner and have the night together. And as much of Sunday as they wanted until the afternoon when, she said, she’d been invited to dinner and an evening sail with Howard and his wife Dolly. He only just refrained from inviting himself along for that.
Before he left, he picked up her cell phone and dialed his number into it. When he felt his own buzz in his back pocket, when he saw that she’d heard it, he kissed her good-bye.
He spent the day entirely distracted. Even three sets of top-of-his-game tennis didn’t keep his mind off that bliss he’d found with Delilah, and his work didn’t stand a chance. He usually spent a couple Saturday afternoon hours managing his personal investments and those he handled for Ben and Austin, but he couldn’t get his head into that, either. In the end he just gave up and waited until it was time he could be with her again.
That evening he took her up the coast a bit to have dinner on the deck of a beachside restaurant. They ate seafood and drank Dry Creek Fumé Blanc. They were quiet over dinner but chatted as they walked the beach at sunset.
She had that girly need to know more about him. She learned that his father was an architect and his mother a midwife, and that he had a sister who had three kids and lived in Maine.
“You said you had to work today. So, you got a job, Mr. Harvard MBA?”
He grinned and squeezed her hand. “Yeah.”
She waited, and he couldn’t resist that smile. “I work for a small green energy firm.”
“‘Work for’? Like, you’re director of something?”
“Yeah, like that.”
She looked at him, brow raised, waiting again until he relented.
“I’m CEO.”
She laughed. “Of course you are.”
He stopped her and pulled her to him, then turned them around so she faced the water and their heights matched better. “Why do you say that?”
She shrugged, like it was obvious. “You’re a—powerful man. You’re used to getting what you want.” She smiled gently. “You like to give orders.”
He stepped back and dropped his hands to his sides. He searched her eyes, her face. “I feel we’re treading on some quicksandy, emotional ground here.”
She met his gaze, let him see her. Guileless, he thought.
“I’ve pushed quite a lot,” he said, feeling his way. “In our relationship, and especially, in…bed.”
Most of the times he’d fucked her like a wild man hadn’t been in bed, but she let that slide.
“Yes.”
He cupped her head with a hand that trembled. “Has that been—a problem for you?” She moved closer and put a hand at his waist. She took his free hand with her other, tangled their fingers.
She shook her head just a little. “No.”
He swallowed. “I get that you’re a strong woman, Delilah. Independent. Complete.”
She nodded. “Good.”
“I guess when I—”
“Fuck me.”
He let out a rough breath. But, yes. “When I fuck you, I like to—” Shit.
She gave him the word. “Dominate.”
“Yes, dammit. It feels good. If feels incredibly, fucking good to—to tell you to suck me, or to make you—shit.”
He started to turn away but she held him. “Submit.”
He ground it out. “Submit while I fuck your ass.”
He’d gotten a bit loud, but she didn’t seem to object. There were other people on the beach, close enough to hear, and he didn’t care.
“Lilah.” He’d known it was quicksand. He’d fucking known it.
She pushed her body up against his. “I liked it, Lincoln. I loved it. All of it.” His ragged breathing eased just a little, his gaze locked on hers.
“I just didn’t know it, Linc. I wouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t know, either, Lilah. The way I want you—it’s never been like that before.” She nodded, appearing to accept that as truth.
Which it was. He’d never been driven like that, never felt such a need to possess, to own. He was fucking screwed.
He slid his hand through her hair, a rough, owning gesture. “I’ll need you to tell me, Lilah, if it goes too far.”
She kissed him once, hard. “I’m not afraid of you, Linc.”
Oh, Lordy.
* * * *
Oh Lordy.
At her last statement, perhaps a bit more bravado than actual truth, Linc had stared hard at her for a moment then grabbed her arm and marched her up the beach to his car. He’d driven in silence, not speaking at all until he pulled into a parking lot on the edge of town. Then he said, “Stay here,” and she watched him walk into the seamy bookstore.
XXX-rated bookstore.
When he came back, he tossed a brown paper sack into the back and drove them the rest of the way to her house. He parked in her unused carport and directed her up the stairs. “Your room,” he said.
She turned and looked at him when she got to the bed. He’d tossed the paper bag on her dresser and was taking his clothes off. He’d left the room dark but there was enough light that she could see him—and that he coul
d watch her. When he unzipped his cock sprang loose, already huge and hard.
“Strip.” It was a command, and he looked hard at her until she complied. She wore a loose gauze skirt, and he watched intently as she slid it down and stepped out of it. She wondered if he could see that her thong was already wet.
His nostrils flared, and she thought maybe so.
“Keep going.” He walked over beside the French doors to her small bedroom deck, still watching her.
She lifted her light knit sweater over her head. For sure, he could see her tight nipples behind the silk of her bra.
He’d opened the door, waiting, watching.
With a little shiver of nervousness she opened her bra and slipped it off. She could hear the growl of his breath as she did it. Then she slid a single finger into each side of her thong and slowly slid it down until she could step out of it.
His cock was very happy, pulsing out toward her. “Out here,” he instructed.
She took a sharp breath and walked past him.
“Put your hands on the rail,” he said. “Get on your knees.”
Trembling, whimpering with edgy excitement, Delilah obeyed. She knelt, her hands grasping the cool metal rail that edged her deck, her knees on the varnished wood deck boards. Linc loomed behind her, his height a domineering presence with her on her knees.
“Keep your hands there. Now, spread your knees and move them back—toward me.” She did what he asked but he wasn’t satisfied.
“More,” he grunted.
She moved further back. She was lifted up on her knees, stretched out toward the deck rail, suspended there. Her breasts hung free and her pussy, her ass, was open, vulnerable.
“Good,” he said.
He disappeared into the room and she knew what he was doing. She could hear the rustling of that paper sack and knew she’d soon learn what he’d purchased. It was a hot torture, wondering what would come next. She hung her head between her arms, panting in anticipation.
He moved quietly and was at her side before she was aware. He twisted a hand into her hair and tugged her head back so he could have her mouth. He took her roughly, biting at her lower lip, plunging his tongue into her mouth.
It was hard and fast and when he was done, he lifted and looked at her, his eyes glittering in the dark. He let go of her head then, but kept her in place with the hard shine of his eyes.
Watching her, he reached between her arms and grasped one nipple. He pulled, elongating it, and then brought his other hand down. He fixed something on her nipple, giving it a good squeeze before he moved his hands away.
A nipple clamp. It stayed there, generating a hard sting on her nipple because of that last squeeze. It was a constant pinch right on the edge of pain.
He paused, holding her gaze. She looked back at him, knowing he awaited her consent. It was more than she could do, looking at the harsh desire on his face. It was incredibly erotic, so unbelievably enticing. But to consent to it, to ask for more—
Beyond her control, a shiver coursed through her body and she moaned. It was nearly an orgasm, driven by that extreme, impersonal bite on her nipple and his fierce need. She shuddered and closed her eyes.
He took it for consent. He went to her other side and did the same thing, abruptly grabbing her nipple, applying that rough-velvet clamp, giving it a final, taunting, torturing press. A loose chain connected the two clamps. He gave it a small tug and both clamps bit into her in wicked stimulation.
Hanging her head, she panted, riding a wave of excitement that had her highly sensitized, hovering in sensual, sexual haze. Her pussy throbbed, the cool air surrounding her giving bare relief.
The next thing she felt was pressure at her anus and a sudden cold shock. Lubricant. He filled her with it and she knew now what would come next.
He knelt behind her, his cock pressed at her opening. His knees were inserted between hers and he separated them, pushing her wide.
The movement caused her to fall onto him, a controlled descent that rode her ass down onto his cock. It wasn’t his thrust, but her own weight bringing her to fuck his cock with her ass.
He kept the act slow so she felt every millimeter as she took him in.
In the end she was sitting on him, splayed open, exquisitely stretched, completely filled. His bristled jaw nudged against her shoulder, a rough chafe. He spoke in her ear, hot driving words she could barely process. He slid his hands around her, one twisting in the chain and giving it small tweaks that kept her nipples constantly stimulated. He put his other hand on her pussy. His fingers delved in then spread her own moisture over her clit.
He had her splayed so wide that even the stretch was a stimulation to her clit. His added touch was almost too much, nearly painful.
He paused when she whimpered, keeping his fingers still.
She felt his harsh breath on her neck and his touch everywhere. She breathed hard, struggling to cope.
His thumb gently moved the chain and her nipples thrummed. His cock buried so deep in her ass stretched her, causing her nerves there to sing. And that pressure of his fingers on her clit—after a long moment, it wasn’t that it was too much, but not quite enough. She groaned and rocked just a little, seeking more.
“Linc.”
He knew the moment it happened, when she gave over. He stopped holding back
“That’s it, Lilah. It’s fucking good. So fucking good.”
He tugged sharply at the chain and went aggressively after her clit—pinching, pulling, and then giving it quick, firm strokes.
And then he fucked her ass.
He didn’t use the gentle, half strokes he’d given her before. These were full-out, long, strong fucks. He leaned up, lifting her by virtue of his cock up her ass, until she had her weight on her knees again. Then he pulled out, all the way until his wide cockhead was right at her sphincter. He held there a long moment, then slammed back into her, taking her deep.
She cried out, agony and ecstasy, a devastating, indistinguishable, irresistible force.
He knew he had her, and he didn’t hold back. He stroked again, again and again. It was a wicked, gritty taking, a conquering, a rampant display of ownership. He fucked her ass hard, over and over. He grunted and cursed out his pleasure, his feral satisfaction, his primal, male exultation.
“Lilah,” he ground out words as he used her. “I love fucking your ass. Fucking love it. You’re so fucking tight. You’re so hot, you make me crazy. I’m about to explode.”
He kept thrusting, rising over her, going faster and deeper. He worked her clit urgently now. “I need you to come, baby. You bitch. My bitch. Come, goddammit.”
He arched back, fucking her wildly, lifting her up off her knees now. He was chanting, growling with each thrust. “Come. Fuck. Goddammit. Bitch. Come.”
Her body was his, taken and owned by him. He was so deep inside her, had her so stretched around him. He thrust fingers into her cunt and then rubbed her clit some more. He brushed his hand over the nipple clamps, setting the stimulation there ablaze.
She was helpless to his taking, subject to his power. She wailed and arched back, letting him have all of her, giving herself over to his possession. She rocked her pussy, her clit against the hard stimulation of his hand.
And then she did has he bade. She came, a howling, wild orgasm. He went with her, driving her higher so she cried out stronger as he bucked and heaved and shuddered into her.
He clutched all around her, filling her, fucking her, his cum blasting into her with brutal spasms.
He clenched her hard in his arms as they finished, their bodies spent, rent. Her hands had fallen from the deck rail and he held her, just short of collapsed onto the floor. His heaving, hard-muscled chest circled over her back, his body heat a hot contrast to the cool of the air and the deck floor.
“Shit.” His breath, like hers, wheezed out. He stayed pressed into her ass, his cock softening but still big. “Shit, fuck, shit. Holy shit.”
She was cold
now, shivering as the sweat on their bodies cooled her skin. She could tell he became aware of it as he started warming her with his hands.
“Baby.” Gently, tenderly touching, he opened the clamps and took them from her nipples. Then he braced her with an arm around her hips and slowly withdrew from her ass.
She couldn’t help a little squeak at that final slow abrasion. He gave a satisfied, grateful groan with it.
“Come on, sweetheart. Up you go.” He pulled her back against his chest and stood, lifting her weight as well as his. Then he took her up in his arms and carried her in to the bed. He laid her on her side, draping her over onto the bed, almost on her belly. Then she heard him in the bathroom, the sounds of him washing up.
When he came back, he got something more from that evil paper sack. He snugged up behind her and pressed something into her ass.
“Here,” he said, nudging it a bit. “Tighten down on this.”
She realized her anal sphincter was still open, distended as it had been by his huge cock. She squeezed until she felt the prod of that object he held in her.
“It’s a butt plug,” he told her. “It vibrates. I want you to keep it there.”
Now that she had it secured nice and tight, he wrapped his arms around her and tucked in to sleep. “Sometime during the night I’m going to turn it on. You’re going to wake up with it buzzing in your ass, and me fucking your pussy.”
Chapter Four
“You’ll never believe who I spent the weekend with.”
“Brad Pitt? Jake Gyllenhaal? Wait, I know. Channing Tatum!”
Delilah laughed. Once Sarah had accepted her friend’s determination to move to California, her sunny nature had turned to finding the advantages. One of those was what she imagined to be the plentitude of hot, available, scantily dressed men.
Or maybe just hot. And scantily dressed.
And like a true East Coaster, she had no real concept of California geography. “Remember graduation night? At the Daedalus?”
Three Men and a Woman: Delilah (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 5