by Cara Thereon
“Please, what?” He murmured into her ear.
She drew in an unsteady breath. “Please, Sir.”
The words just passed her lips when he slammed home, burying himself deep, forcing a scream from her lips. He felt good, so good. Splitting her, filling her, and joining to her.
He released a long groan as he ground his hips into her. The scrape of his pubic hair on her abused ass added to her pleasure, almost pushing her over that edge. “Perfect.”
A hard tug of her hair brought her head back, and she drifted into heaven as he pounded into her.
Your Day
The floral scent of plumeria tickled his nose the moment John walked into the house. He closed the door behind him and listened for the familiar sound of his wife moving around in the kitchen. No usual clatter of dishes reached his ears, and the mouth-watering aroma of steak or chicken was absent. Only the alluring smell of flowers lingered.
John crossed from the foyer into the living room, pausing to sit his briefcase by the suede couch and toss his suit jacket over the arm before walking toward the hallway. A flash of pink caught his eyes before he passed out of the room and he did a double take before backtracking. Draped over a picture frame on the side table was a pair of lace panties. On impulse he lifted the fabric to his nose and inhaled the subtle hint of flowers and the even more intoxicating scent of female musk. He groaned as arousal punched him in the gut, sending blood straight to his cock.
“Claire?” The panties disappeared into his pants pocket and he stalked out of the room. “Claire, where are–”
The words died in his throat as he noticed a pair of stockings in the hallway. The opaque thigh highs were where the same shade as the panties. John imagined her wearing them as he picked them up; the pink popping against her tan skin, her thighs parted in invitation, and her pussy bare and glistening with her excitement. He clenched the stockings in his fist and concentrated on keeping his breathing under control.
A wasted attempt as he spotted a wisp of pink lingerie hanging on the doorknob. John’s body throbbed with lust; his cock making demands that his body wanted to comply with, and would as soon as he found his wife, his gloriously naked wife.
Pushing open the door, he stepped inside. His breath whooshed out when he saw her positioned on her back a top the bed in front of him. His eyes tracked up her long legs parted wide revealing the puffy, wet lips of her sex, then up the gentle curve of her stomach to her pert breasts, dark nipples hard and taut. Her hair spread out around her body like a dark curtain. She was a lush paradise that he needed to explore. He stood frozen in the doorway, gazing his full at all the lovely skin his hands could touch.
Claire sat up, her breasts jutting forward as she leveled him with a sultry smile. “Welcome home, John. I figured we’d have a little dessert before dinner tonight.”
John took a step closer to the bed; his palms itched to caress her body. “God, Claire, I’m going to—”
“Stop right there, dear husband.” She held up her hand and he halted. He watched as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her back to him, and then stood to move around to him. He devoured her body with his eyes and stayed put until she stood before him.
Claire tugged on his tie to pull his face down to hers. Their lips met in a touch that spoke of promise; hot, electric, and unbelievably erotic. Her tongue demanded entry into his mouth and the desire restrained inside him boiled over. Molding the soft planes of her body to his, John lost himself in the sweetness of her mouth. His hands traveled the curve of her back until he reached the round flesh of her ass and he filled his palms with her.
He needed to feel her wrapped around him, needed inside her now. Kisses were no longer enough, but his wife had other ideas; as he tried to lead her back to the bed, she stepped out of his embrace.
When she sidestepped another attempt to grab her, John groaned in mock frustration. “You’re killing me, love. I’m dying here.”
Her laughter tinkled around the room like a wind chime and he smiled at the ease with which she expressed her delight. Her eyes sparkled and pink tinged her cheeks, spiking his desire to crazy levels. Claire caught his train of thought with a look.
She allowed him to pull her into his arms. Looking up at him, Claire graced him with a smile that made his heart race. “I’m sorry you’re dying, John.” Her hand slipped between their bodies and cupped him through his dress pants. “But your cock feels pretty alive.”
“Filthy mouth, Claire. I didn’t know you talked like that.” He rotated his hips, loving the feel of her hands on him.
“Oh, I should show you what else I can do with my mouth.” She squeezed him and he grunted.
He captured her lips in a heated kiss. “Show me then, love.”
Claire back away, crossed the room to the dresser, and bent to the bottom drawer. He sat hard on the end of the bed, and admired the wiggle of her hips. The lips of her sex peeked out, slick and puffy, beckoning him.
“Claire.” He breathed out her name like a prayer. “Stop teasing me, damn it.”
Her laughter was low and husky. With one last wiggle she straightened up, a piece of rope in her hands. His eyebrows climbed his hairline. She held some brown twine from garage; he’d bought it for their last trip.
“What are you planning to do with that?” He shifted on the bed.
Dark eyes flashed with something that made his gut tighten with desire. His wife advanced on him, transforming before his eyes. Her face was serious, her stance firm, and her body language spoke of confidence and dominance. “I am going to tie you up and have my way with you, dear.”
Claire pushed him flat on his back and straddled his waist. He grabbed her hips, but she slapped him on the chest. “Hands above your head, John.”
Holy shit! The way she purred his name turned him on like crazy. He’d never seen her behave this way; the thread of steel underlying every movement, the fire in her eyes, made her so damn sexy.
“Yes, mistress.” His words came out gruff.
She graced him with a smile when he obeyed. The rope bound his wrists together then Claire looped it around the headboard, holding him in place. “Very good, pet. Now to reward you. Don’t move, understand?”
He lay still while she stripped him of his shirt. Claire bent forward and her hair fell forward like a curtain. The strands brushed over his chest, sending a ripple of sensation through his body. He moaned softly when the heat of her breath fanned over his nipple. The wet tip of her tongue circled his flesh until it beaded up, begging for her mouth, but she teased him with gentle licks.
“Please.” That one word came out as a strangled plea.
The sultry sound of her laughter triggered a cascade of chills over his skin. She raised her head a little to look at him. “Begging already? Just wait.”
She reached above him and placed a blindfold over his eyes. The darkness heightened his senses so much that the hard pull of her mouth his pebbled flesh had him jerking. His breath whooshed out, then back in when the point of her teeth grazed his skin. She knew how to unravel him with so little effort.
His breath came in labored gasps as she tortured the other nipple mercilessly. The ache in his cock intensified with every nip of her teeth until he begged, “Please, mistress.”
“Ah, love, I’ll help you.” She whispered against his skin.
He felt her hands at his waistband, stroking down the front of his pants, then back to his waist. She slithered down his body, leaving a trail of heat with her lips. He jerked when her tongue darted into his navel and swirled around.
The metallic sound of his zipper lowering filled the bedroom. John called upon his tattered self-control to help him stay still. She tested him when she tongued him through the cotton of his boxers. He lifted his hips and whimpered at the sensation of her mouth sucking through the fabric. His teeth ached from his efforts to let her lead.
Finally, she shimmied his boxers down his thighs. Her hand circled his shaft, pumping him slowly up an
d down. The heat of her breath on the head of his cock qualified as exquisite torture. Air refused to leave his lungs, held captive by the anticipation of her mouth.
“You,” she began, her nails digging into his thighs, “are not allowed to come until I tell you to.”
John opened his mouth; a guttural moan was all he managed as her lips closed around the tip. His hips thrust up, desperate to feel more of her silky wetness sliding over him. The suction of her mouth curled his toes, her tongue teasing the slit of his cock on each upstroke.
“Claire! God, Claire,” he mumbled. He fisted his hands in her hair, the instinct to take control impossible to ignore.
She hummed around him, a smile on her face as she moved up and down on his slick shaft. For a little while, she let him take control, thrusting hard into that sweet sensation. Her mouth and throat taking him, squeezing around him just like her pussy, making him groan and grasp at her hair.
John felt his balls draw up close to his body, tension riding hard, tightening every muscle. But Claire denied him the satisfaction of coming in her sweet mouth. No, she released him with a wet sound, pushing him flat on his back. He lay dazed, panting softly while she climbed up on the bed.
“Good job, pet.” She straddled his hips and lined his cock up. She lowered down with a sigh.
A groan, low and tortured, was all he could utter as she lifted up and sank back down. He arched, his hands tight on her waist as he thrust up into her.
“And this is exactly what I’d waited all day for,” she purred as she rode him hard.
A Little Shy
Naomi hustled from the back at the sound of the bell. She rushed through the door out to the front desk and nearly swallowed her tongue when she saw the man standing there. He was the stuff of dreams with his sun streaked brown hair, strong jaw, and broad shoulders. He was the type of guy that turned her into a quivering mess. He was incredibly athletic, painfully gorgeous, and obviously not for her; a fact that made her want to sigh with longing as she looked at his biceps.
It’s her job to help make the customers say the best it could be. Naomi gulped as she tried summoning up the strength needed to speak to the customer. He wasn’t looking at her so she was able to approach the desk with a confidence she didn’t normally possess.
“Welcome to The Country Inn an—” He turned to face her and her voice faltered.
Her eyes dropped to his crooked smile then rose to his hazel eyes. The color seemed to change from forest green to liquid brown as she looked into eyes. Naomi felt her heart skip a beat and in an effort to steady herself, gripped the counter for support.
The corner of his sensual mouth lifted in an almost mocking way “And suites.”
That voice was like silk rubbing against her skin. She didn’t realize a voice so deep could caress like that. Why couldn’t a man this potent walk up to her and sweep her off her feet? Maybe if she were some buxom blond with an hourglass figure and a killer smile, he’d be interested instead of looking at her like she was his sister.
“Naomi.”
He made her name sound sweet coming from his mouth. She wanted him to say it again. She could picture him sitting across from her that boyish smile on his face, a lock of brown hair hanging over his forehead, candles on the table between them as he talked about mundane things. Then later when he’d be buried deep inside her, flooding her with his come.
“Naomi?” A wrinkle formed on his brow as he watched her.
Naomi squeaked as she realized her mind had wandered. Her face flushed in embarrassment and she looked down at the computer hoping to recover from her mortification.
Pasting on a professional smile, she glued her eyes to the screen. “Do you already have a reservation?”
“Yea, booked over the phone.” He dropped his backpack to the ground and stooped to reach into the front. Naomi couldn’t help glancing over the counter to look at him. His jeans fit snug over his tight ass, cupping him in an almost obscene way.
He stood up suddenly forcing her to pull back before he hit her. She lost her balance and landed on her hip. It was a moment that probably only lasted a minute, but felt like a lifetime stretched out as she sat there in a daze. She rose to her feet, groaning as pain shot through her leg.
“Are you okay?” His concern was touching, but only intensified her embarrassment.
“Fine. Just tripped… over a wire.” She looked down at the screen again. “If you’ll tell me what name the reservation is under, I’ll take care of you.” She cringed at the unintentional innuendo.
That crease deepened between his brows then smoothed out again. He tilted his head to the side and he leveled her with an intense look. Naomi felt herself growing warm under that stare. He wasn’t speaking and she was too nervous to meet his eyes again.
“Sir?” She prompted unable to keep the wobble out of her voice.
“Naomi, look at me.”
It was a command; one she obeyed without thinking. She met his eyes and was sucked in like a fly snagged by a bug zapper. He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving hers. Her breath grew shallow the closer he came to her. His eyes dropped to her lips and Naomi felt lightheaded at the thought of him kissing her. What would he taste like? Something spicy, she thought absently as his eyes met hers again.
“It’s under Mckee; Derek Mckee. Look me up, Naomi.”
His voice had an odd effect on her. The subtle way he commanded her was steadying and she found herself moving to do what he said. She managed to get him checked in without any more embarrassment.
“Breakfast is from 6:30 A.M. to 10:00 A.M. and checkout is noon.” She held out his key card careful to keep her eyes on his shoulder. “I’m here all weekend so please let me know if you need anything.”
He grasped the card, catching her hand in his before she could pull away. “All weekend, Naomi?”
Something in his voice made her shake. “Yes… yes, all weekend, Mr. Mckee.”
A big smile spread across his face. “Derek. Call me Derek.”
“Derek.” She whispered, her face flushing when she saw the pleasure on his face.
“Good.” He rubbed his forefinger caressed the pulse at her wrist. “I’ll see you later then.”
He released her almost reluctantly. After gathering up his bags he winked at her then trotted off to the elevators. Naomi watched until he was out of sight then slumped against the desk feeling like she’d just run a marathon. She felt like she had imagined that whole thing. It certainly felt surreal.
She needed a drink to rid the dryness from her throat. Never had a guest check in worn her out so much. She walked to the back to find something to quench her thirst. The phone rang and she answered it from the office.
“Front desk, this is Naomi. How may I help you?”
“Naomi,” She recognized Derek’s voice instantly. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
She swallowed once before answering breathlessly “Sure, what can I do for you?”
He chuckled softly and muttered something she couldn’t make out. “What time do you get off work?”
She checked the clock. “In two hours, why?”
“Come up when you get off.” He hung up before she could reply.
Naomi glanced at the phone in disbelief. She wanted to call him back and tell him she didn’t like being bossed around, but she knew she wouldn’t. Even though she told herself he might only need help fixing something, nothing could stop the excitement that coursed through her. She would go as soon as it was time.
One hour and fifty-five minutes, and counting…
***
“What are you doing, Naomi? Why are you here? You should’ve just gone home, crawled into your pajamas, and made yourself some Mac and cheese.”
Just like she did every night.
She paced in front of his room fighting an internal battle. She felt stupid for even coming. What could he possibly want from her? Probably not what her body hoped he wanted from her. Even as she told
herself this was a silly thing to do, she approached the door and knocked once. When he didn’t come immediately to the door, she shrugged in defeat and turned to head for the elevators. He probably just wanted her to help him do something silly, like change his sheets or bring him more towels. Something about that depressed her.
Halfway down the hall, she heard a door open. His voice cut across the silence like a knife.
“Stop.”
Naomi froze. She was at least four doors down, but she felt his gaze like a laser on her back. Indecision bubbled up inside of her, did she turn or not? Anxiety left her wavering there like a flower in the breeze.
“Turn around and walk back.” Even though his tone was gentler, his words were still a command.
Like a mindless robot, she did an about-face and walked back to him. He was standing in the doorway in a pair of low-slung jeans and no shirt, leaning casually against the frame, looking for the world like he was used to getting his way. Naomi stood before him mute convinced that he probably did get his way often. The way he ordered and she followed proved he was excellent at it.
His eyes traveled up and down her body and she felt incredibly self-conscious. It mortified her to realize that she was shaking, something she only did when she was feeling really nervous and vulnerable. Trying not to faint under his searching gaze made her feel as nervous and vulnerable as she could get.