by M. A. Ellis
He released her nipple so quickly she cried out in frustration.
“Say it,” he ordered,
“Please,” she moaned, unable to say more.
His lips found her once more, nipping hard as his fingers pinched her puckered flesh at the same time. Becca cried out as a small orgasmic wave hit her. As quickly as it was upon her, it was gone and she dropped her body back to the mattress. She opened her eyes and watched the top of his dark head descend as he kissed his way over the inked, double-tailed mermaid that swam across her upper abdomen. She tried to catch her breath but he was already tickling her navel with the tip of his tongue. She knew the pattern he traced. The red and blue beveled star that surrounded her bellybutton. It was the tattoo that had started it all.
He worked his way lower and expectation rocketed through each and every nerve of her body. The ones that had somehow remained dormant and the ones that were sparking like live wires. His thumbs circled her hipbones before he grabbed the sides of her thong and tugged. She moved her legs to help him then immediately returned them to their previous position. His hand returned to her hips before drifting downward to trace her nearly hairless bikini line. He alternated his strokes, up and down the modified arrow of pubic hair, the caress moving her engorged labia against her clit and she opened her thighs a little more.
“So hot,” he said, exerting more downward pressure so her outer lips plumped further. She could come like this, her labia slicked with her own desire, rubbing her clit just so.
Chad dragged his fingers lower, the heels of his hands maneuvering her thighs even wider as he skirted around her clit and brushed the very top of her swollen folds. He pulled her labia aside until she was fully exposed, her clit no longer surrounded by skin that might buff it to the point of release.
Becca lifted her head. She wanted to see as well as feel.
His gaze drifting over every secretive crevice she possessed. She was unsure of his intent and his perusal made her nervous. A rush of liquid oozed from her from her slit and she admitted to herself it wasn’t nerves. It was curiosity.
“So pink.” He moved one of his hands and gently stroked her inner folds with the tip of one finger, staying away from her pulsing clit. “And wet.”
He wiggled his finger from side to side and Becca’s thighs tensed. If he just moved his hand higher and did that. He looked at her, his grin a deadly combination of sexy and innocent. It ratcheted her right back to a level of full-blown lust.
“I’ve tried, baby. I really have. But I just can’t wait any longer.”
His tongue circled her clit at the same time his finger mimicked the motion and slid into her pussy. Becca slapped her palms against the mattress, forcing her to forgo watching Chad to focus on the heat that was flooding through her limbs.
The way he went down on her was random, no rhythm or tempo or direction. But that one long finger was another matter. He stroked her inner wall with an unrelenting, steady motion that was quickly driving her to another peak. Perspiration broke out above her brow, under her breasts. Like a wanton, she bent her knees, planted the soles of her feet on the bed and let her legs fall open. Not caring how wanton it seemed.
“Mmmm. Good girl,” he murmured against her flesh.
The vibration pushed her to the peak but he slowed the movement of his fingers, keeping her at the precipice but not allowing her to fall over the edge.
“Nooo.” She wrapped her hand behind his head, forcing his face against her pussy. “I want more.”
He finally closed his mouth over her clit and hummed his approval. It was too much.
“Faster,” she ordered.
He offered her a tiny amount of suction, never completely removing his mouth from her clit as the pressure pulled and released her nub, over and over without actually touching the engorged kernel of flesh.
The heat, the wet. The tug, the release. Becca curled her toes, the edge of release drawing closer. His finger thrust faster and just as she was about to come, he latched on to her clit and sucked her firmly between his teeth.
She closed her eyes, uttering a long, low moan as her body shook. Fireworks exploded behind her eyes and she watched until they had dwindled to little pinpricks of light. They were fucking amazing.
Her body was still quivering when she felt the mattress dip. She opened her eyes in time to see him rolling off the bed. He stripped out of his pants, pulled a condom from his nightstand, had his cock covered in record time. She hadn’t even had a chance to enjoy the sight of his buff body in all its glorious nudity.
One tiny condom can’t be considered obstructing the view.
“Tiny?” Becca whispered aloud. Her inner voice was insane.
Chad gave her a questioning look. “What?”
Now might be the time to offer a cohesive comment. One he couldn’t misconstrue.
“Ribbed for my pleasure,” she asked, opening her arms.
“Lubed for your pleasure.”
“I hope I’m not too wet.” She stared at his penis, curved upward in the perfect way. Long and thick. He wrapped his palm around the shaft and stroked upward, over his the head of his cock and back down again.
“You can never be too wet.” He crawled onto the bed and she scooted backward to give him more room, propping herself on her elbows. He brushed her clit and she jumped, surprised it was still sensitive.
“I thought that was ‘you can never be too rich’?” She smiled as he moved closer.
He slid the lubed tip of his cock up and down her inner lips, exerting pressure and pulling back but never inserting fully.
“Believe me, Becca. This is way better than gold.” They locked gazes and he eased into her partway with one slow steady stroke. She stared at the determined set of his jaw, his straight nose, his clear blue eyes that held a hint of concern. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she assured.
He gave her a less-than-convinced look and didn’t move.
Why did men never believe a woman when she said that? The hell with talking him down from the ledge of misplaced apprehension.
Becca grabbed onto his ass as she’d wanted to from nearly the first day she’d met him and inch by magnificent inch guided him deeper.
Chad let her pull him into the snug, warm wetness. He stifled a groan. The reality of burying himself inside Becca’s pussy was a million times better than any fantasy he’d concocted. He was pretty fucking pleased with his performance thus far. She was more orgasmic than he’d imagined. He never wanted to forget the expression on her face when he had looked up from between her thighs and watched her shatter.
“You fit perfectly,” she said, her green eyes beginning to lighten. He had always liked that shade, but now that he knew what it took to make them the deepest of greens, he was probably going to change his mind. Or at least do more research on the subject.
His lizard brain wanted to bang her. Right now. Without any more foreplay. But Chad wanted to last as long as possible. Her fingers felt good trailing around his hips and over his abs. She stayed there awhile, playing with his bellybutton, tracing his six-pack. Avoiding his cock. Which worked for him since he needed to harness a little control. He wanted to thrust. Wanted to show her how in tune he already was to her body.
That bout of finger-fucking had shown him all he needed to know. Well, maybe not all, but enough to guarantee there was at least one way he could make her scream. A little more practice and there was every chance his girl would be riding the waves of full-body ecstasy.
Your girl, huh?
He leaned back, nearly pulling his cock free from her. With pure, selfish pleasure he watched her sex draw him inward, her inner muscles encircling him like a new layer of skin. He rocked his hips, a short pivoting motion that allowed him to thrust slowly. He listened to the little sounds she was making, learned that a firm forward stroke usually elicited a quick intake of breath.
He’d intended on being the teaser, but her pussy was more of a temptation
than he imagined, making it clear he wasn’t going to last as long as he’d like. Warmth was already spreading up his shaft, making the head of his cock more sensitized. The soft skin covering his testicles tightened, forcing his balls high. He didn’t want to switch tack so soon but he moved forward, bracketing her shoulders with his hands as he anchored himself.
Chad picked up the tempo but kept his thrusts shallow. Her “oh fuck” was proof he was right where he needed to be, hitting the sensitive zone behind her clit. The one some people claimed wouldn’t do a damn thing. He’d beg to differ. He had tasted the difference in her juices when he’d stimulated her with his finger. He stroked into her a few more times, his cock head throbbing before driving deep, just once.
Becca reached for his shoulders and he stared into her eyes. It almost broke his rhythm, that look that bordered adoration. He hadn’t expected it. Wouldn’t read too much into it, no matter how much he’d like to.
“Shit. Oh. Fuck.” She grabbed his arms and dug her nails into his biceps, inadvertently pushing herself away. It made it more difficult to thrust, but Chad didn’t care. He wasn’t switching gears yet. He picked up momentum, the shallow strokes working for him now but he liked his deep thrusts at the end. Hoped they worked for her as well because his release was building.
He glanced down at Becca’s breasts, making them rock more as he thrust quicker. He swooped down, nipped at one, maybe harder than he would have liked but she wrapped her legs high around his waist and started to whimper. He couldn’t remember reassurance sounding any sweeter than the grunts and gasps slipping from her mouth.
He dropped to his elbows and pressed his temple against the side of Becca’s head, their bodies nearly fused into one as he rocked into her. Her pussy seemed alive, contracting around his cock slowly at first and then with a quickness that he wasn’t quite ready for. Her cursing escalated and he pumped harder.
They didn’t need to go together, but it would be fucking perfect if they did. He leaned his head back, surprised to find her eyes shut tight, her face contorted. “Hang on, baby.”
His words prompted a loud moan and a second later the grip around his legs faltered.
“Just a little bit, more.” He pistoned faster, felt her stiffen, then he thrust deep. Once. Twice. A third time. His groan sounded way too loud for his ears. Her legs went limp and slid down his outer thighs and he drove his cock into her once more, his release making his limbs shake.
He took a few moments, listened to the pounding in his temples and hoped he wasn’t too heavy for her. Her arms snaked around his body and he smiled when she hugged him. Nothing to worry about. She stroked his back and he knew she meant it to be soothing, but it was only making him nervous. Now would be the moment of truth. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to raise his head and try to discern what she was thinking and he knew damn well her mind would be racing in about a minute or two.
He wasn’t so egotistical that he thought he could render Becca Wiley speechless for long. He chuckled then rolled to his side and took her into his arms. Waiting.
“Well, that was fucking awe-some.” She singsonged the last word and he started to laugh.
Becca eased out of his embrace and propped herself up on one elbow. Her dark shoulder-length hair was tousled, her skin flushed, her bra undone but still on. She looked like a freakin’ goddess. An image of the mural on the ceiling of the club flashed through Chad’s mind, of how Becca had the same satiated look on her face.
His cock twitched. She saw the movement, rolled her eyes and flopped onto her back once more. She bent her legs and crossed one naked knee over the other, swinging her leg back and forth. An aerial version of her nervous tapping, he assumed.
“What are you thinking?” Chad asked, knowing it was probably a loaded question.
“That it really is the middle of the day and I’m ready to fall asleep.”
“We can do that,” he said, placing his forearm across her stomach and pulling her closer. “Once you quit jiggling.” She dropped her legs and snuggled into him. It felt pretty damn good. Eventually he’d have to get rid of the condom.
She didn’t say a word and his chest began to tighten with dread. Was she going to take a nap and then leave? Maybe the assertive approached hadn’t been the way to go.
“And afterward.” He was throwing it out there. Balls to the wall. “Then what do you want to do?”
She let out a long sigh. “Dinner. Here. Naked.”
“Really?” He looked down at her, watching her eyelids start to open and close slowly. “I’ve got two things in the fridge.”
“Mushrooms and eggs,” she said hopefully.
“Jack and shit. So pizza it’ll be. With a nice red.”
“Mmmmm. That sounds wonderful.”
“But no nakedness for the delivery dude. I tip him well enough without that,” Chad teased.
Becca wiggled against his side, repositioning her head against his chest. Getting comfortable, he imagined. She placed a quick kiss just above his right nipple and his heart stammered.
“Sheesh,” she whispered. “You’re no fun.”
It was the perfect opportunity for a “words hurt” moment. But he let it go because he wasn’t sure if his voice would even be steady. And she was already asleep.
Chad listened to her slow, steady breathing, the euphoria of having her in his bed starting to wane. Life had taught him not to doubt the things that came a person’s way. Not to worry too much. But he was feeling both where Becca was concerned.
Her doing the tattoos was more than a little worrisome. Their entire experience at Club Rosenthorn had left him disturbed. Not because of the voyeuristic scene they’d witnessed, everyone had their kink of preference, he supposed.
It was because Andres Herzog seemed to be able to read them both. And it was clear he thought Becca had potential. That with a few lessons at his hand she’d fit into their scene.
There was no way in hell Chad was about to let that happen. Not today. Not tomorrow. And certainly not whatever day that asshole decided Becca needed to return to the club for her final payment.
He looked down at her face, her strong features relaxed in sleep.
Yeah. No way in hell.
Chapter Five
“Holy freakin’ hell, look at you!”
Becca stopped dead in her tracks in front of the lunchroom and glanced over her shoulder. She wanted to make sure her boss was talking to her and not one of the other artists who might be following in her wake.
“Miss Clairol and the Sephora Fairy go at it this morning or what? I guess we know who came out on top. I like it, Wiley. Less is more, I hear it all the time.”
“I’ll bet you do, Joseph. And aren’t you lucky they have a pill for that?” she teased, realizing his shock was centered on her new hair color and not some outwardly discernible sign that she and Chad had spent the past eighteen hours banging like bunnies. She’d been running so far behind this morning she’d only done one layer of mascara. Didn’t even prime. Her lashes felt naked.
Mmmm. Naked, huh?
Becca had known she was going to have a hard time concentrating this morning when the light of day had shone through Chad’s wooden blinds and she was still wrapped in his embrace. Panic had started climbing from the pit of her stomach straight up her throat until Chad had placed a light kiss against her temple and ordered her to be still for just a while longer. And she had. She’d pushed all other thoughts aside and focused on the delight of having Chad’s tall, solid form next to her as opposed to flinging a knee over a big fluffy body pillow. The squeezing part was much more rewarding.
But the moment she’d stepped out his door, her thoughts had gone haywire. Her stylist could have dyed her hair Oompa Loompa green and she probably wouldn’t have noticed. She’d spent her time in the salon chair reliving the bliss that had constituted the previous afternoon and evening with Chad. He had nudged her awake with a raging hard-on around six o’clock, which delayed their pizza-fest by another ho
ur but Becca didn’t care. And when he had wrung a few more orgasms out of her and they crawled into his shower, reverting right back to their easy conversation and banter, she’d grown to love over the past eight months. That had been her biggest fear. That sex with Chad would change all that. That she’d have to start weighing her words.
She shouldn’t have worried. Should have known he was going to be the same straight-talking man he’d always been. He stopped her when she started rehashing their stupidity at not acting on their attraction for each other soon. He’d told her all that was in the past and couldn’t be changed. But he’d told her he planned on making up for lost time. He assured her they’d never lose the intimacy that was born from friendship. But he also promised there’d be banging. And lots of it.
Becca’s thighs felt as if she’d done a two-hour spin class. The pain in her lower back wasn’t much better but she smiled, happier than she’d been in a very long time. Which made teasing her boss especially easy.
“It’s a bit disturbing that you know about high-end cosmetic stores, Joseph.” Becca hooked her thumbs in her back pocket and offered him an angelic smile. “Is that your latent Sperry and Lacoste sides showing?”
He offered her a noncommittal snort. The kind that generally equated to a big “fuck you”.
“Give me some credit, will you? That store is right next to those sirens at Starbucks. You know that one chick on the six-to-ten shift has a thing for older guys. I try to stop by on a regular basis. Show her the standard other men should live up to.”
“Right.” Becca chuckled.
“Promise me one thing, Wiley. Please tell me you’re not going to start channeling any of the craziness that goes along with being a redhead. I’ve got enough of that with CeeCee and Brendan.”
“Those two are gingers, boss man. This,” she said, rocking her head from side to side so her hair bounced around her face, “is light auburn.”
“And that’s supposed to convince me you’re not going to turn bat-shit crazy?” His piercing gray eyes raked her from head to toe and back again.