Any Way You Want It

by Maureen Smith

  She stared up at him as he set her down and spread her legs, hooking them over the curved arms of the chair so that her sex was completely bared to him.

  She trembled hard, feeling vulnerable and deliciously aroused. “Remy...”

  He swore gutturally, his eyes nearly black as he stared at the pink, glistening tulip of her cunt. “You have such a pretty pussy, Zandra. So damn pretty.”

  She blushed as he sank to a crouch between her legs and licked her, one swipe that sent shards of pleasure stabbing through her.

  She groaned, arching into his mouth as he growled hoarsely, “And you taste so fucking good.”

  His tongue flayed the sensitive nub of her clit with slow, hot licks that felt so incredible, tears stung the backs of her eyes. No guy had ever eaten her out the way Remy did, stroking her clit and sucking the swollen flesh of her labia with just the right amount of pressure.

  She moaned with pleasure, her fingers gripping the arms of the chair, her hips rocking against his mouth. The man could teach a master class on the art of cunnilingus, and she’d gladly volunteer to be his test subject every time.

  “Remy,” she sobbed as he lapped at her cream, his tongue chasing the moisture down to her anus. When he licked the small hole, her hips bucked off the chair.

  He caught and gripped her thighs, holding them apart as he stabbed his tongue into her pussy, bringing her to a hard, shuddering climax that made her scream.

  Her body was still shaking from the aftershocks when he lifted her from the chair and sat down with her legs straddling his lap. His nostrils were flared, his lips glistening with her juices.

  He pulled her dress up and over her head and tossed it aside. When the cool air hit her skin, she shivered.

  He stared at her breasts spilling over the lacy cups of her black bra. Her pulse pounded as she watched him unhook the front clasp and slide the scrap of lingerie from her body.

  Murmuring with husky appreciation, he lowered his head and closed his mouth over one breast. She gasped, her nipples elongating into tight, aching points as he suckled her. She closed her eyes and arched her head back as he cupped her breast and lifted it higher, deeper into his hungry mouth.

  She shuddered, the hot stroke of his tongue sending jolts of pleasure to her womb. His mouth moved from one tit to the other, leaving her nipples wet and throbbing for more.

  She ground against his thick erection, the soft cloth of his pants rasping against her clit and the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. He raised his head from her breasts and took her mouth, kissing her deeply and ravenously. Sucking his tongue, she reached down and began unbuttoning his shirt. She got only halfway before impatience made her yank the rest open, popping and scattering buttons across the floor.

  “Sorry,” she breathed against his mouth, ripping the shirt off his broad shoulders. “I’ll buy you another one.”

  His low chuckle dissolved into a groan as she flicked her tongue against a flat, dark nipple that instantly hardened. She licked his other nipple, then kissed her way down his muscular torso as he quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. Rising from his lap, she knelt between his legs and tugged his pants and briefs down to his ankles.

  As his heavy shaft jutted free, saliva pooled in her mouth. She wrapped her fingers around the thick base and leaned down, stroking her tongue over the plump head.

  Remy jerked and swore hoarsely as pearly beads of precum leaked out. She lapped at the wetness like candy, then opened wide and took his engorged length down her throat. He growled with pleasure, his dick impossibly thickening inside her mouth.

  She breathed deep, inhaling his heady masculine scent. And then she relaxed her jaw and began sucking him, hollowing out her cheeks to intensify the suction.

  “Zandra,” he groaned, shoving his hands into her hair. “Ah, fuck, that feels good.”

  She glanced up his body to meet his eyes, trembling at the raw hunger she saw in his gaze.

  She took his shaft deeper, scraping her teeth along the edges just enough to make him shudder and moan at the resulting sensation. His fingers bit into her scalp as she sucked him harder, her hand massaging his swollen balls until they tightened to bursting.

  Remy thrust his hips forward, fucking her mouth as saliva and precum dripped from the corners.

  Suddenly he tensed and fisted his cock, pumping his hot seed down the back of her throat. Zandra swallowed every drop, savoring his clean, salty taste.

  Gasping for breath, Remy closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the chair.

  Pulse racing, clit throbbing, Zandra rose from her knees and climbed back into his lap. She knew it wouldn’t take him long to regroup. The man possessed the kind of stamina that belonged in a world record book.

  Straddling his thighs, she licked his goateed chin and rubbed her drenched cleft against the short, springy curls covering his groin.

  Sure enough, his cock swelled and sprang to attention.

  Her heart thundered as he lifted his head and met her hungry gaze. He smiled seductively and licked at her lips, then grasped her hips and impaled her on his hard shaft.

  Her breath hissed out of her as her muscles clenched tightly around him, making him groan. She bit her lip and gripped his shoulders as he began rocking inside her. Slowly, languorously. Taking his time.

  She stared into his eyes in dazed fascination, marveling at his complete mastery of her body. How could she have thought that she was done with him? Done with this? She must have been out of her mind.

  Needing him to move faster, she squeezed her muscles around his cock. His eyes flashed and he smacked her ass, sending spikes of tingling heat to her womb that almost made her come.

  She heeded the silent rebuke, and before long he was moving deeper and faster, each stroke searing the sensitized flesh of her pussy. Her pulse soared as she caught his rhythm and began riding him, breasts bouncing up and down, hips pistoning back and forth on his thighs.

  “Fuck, Zandra,” he panted as he licked and sucked her bottom lip, then coiled his tongue around hers. “Can’t get enough of you, baby.”

  She moaned. “I don’t want you to. Ever.”

  The chair creaked and rocked as he slammed into her, thrusting so hard she half expected the seat to collapse beneath them. And they would have kept going without missing a beat.

  “Oh, shit,” she mewled as spasms of raw pleasure shafted through her. “Remy...ohh...Remy...”

  “What, baby?” he whispered roughly against her parted lips. “What do you need?”

  “You. Just...you.”

  “You got me.” His eyes blazed fiercely into hers. “You got me.”

  She shuddered and leaned back on his muscular thighs, so far back that her hair hung almost to the floor.

  Remy groaned, his hands cupping her ass as he drove his shaft harder, deeper, drilling into her until she arched her spine and came with a primal cry.

  He shouted her name as he climaxed, hot jets of semen spurting out of him to flood her pussy. She shivered as his cock pulsed and throbbed inside her for several moments.

  As he slowly pulled her back up, her eyelids drooped and she slumped against him, spent and boneless.

  “I can’t move,” she croaked.

  He chuckled softly. “Then don’t. I like you just where you are.”

  That makes two of us, she thought languidly as his hands stroked up and down her back, a soothing caress.

  Neither spoke for several minutes, their hearts beating heavily against each other’s ribs, sweat cooling slowly on their skin.

  Zandra found herself gazing at one of her mother’s paintings, a piece entitled Three Peas in a Pod that featured Zandra flanked by Remy and Roderick. The painting had been inspired by a photo Autumn had taken of the three children one summer as they sat licking Popsicles on the Brands’ front porch. Zandra was pouting as Remy and Roderick, sporting mischievous grins, tugged on each of her pigtails, a favorite pastime of theirs.

  As warm nostalgia cu
rled through her, Zandra sighed and lifted her head from Remy’s shoulder to smile at him. “Now that we’ve worked up an appetite, let’s eat.”

  They dined outside on her balcony with the glittering expanse of Lake Michigan spread before them. Candles glowed on the small table, the flames flickering and dancing in the gentle summer breeze.

  Zandra sat on Remy’s lap as they took turns feeding each other from the same plate of spicy crab linguini. Zandra had always enjoyed Cora’s cooking, but tonight it tasted even better than ever, the rich flavors enhanced by the experience of sharing the meal with Remy.

  She twirled a few strands of linguini around the fork and slid it between his lips, watching as he chewed, then closed his eyes and groaned with husky satisfaction. “I think this is the best damn meal I’ve ever had.”

  Zandra smiled, licking a dab of sauce from the corner of his mouth and purring, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “Great minds think alike,” he murmured, kissing her softly. “But as much as I’m enjoying this meal, I can’t wait for dessert.”

  “You’ll enjoy it. Cora made her truffle tart with strawberries. It’s delicious.”

  “I’m sure it is, but that’s not what I had in mind for dessert.”

  “No?” Zandra raised a brow at him. “What’d you have in mind?”

  A purely carnal gleam lit his eyes. “You.”

  Her stomach quivered, and she smiled demurely. “I’m not on the menu.”

  “Then we’ll just have to create a new one, won’t we?”

  As he leaned close to recapture her lips, she pulled back with a soft laugh and reached for the glass of Chablis they were sharing.

  To her dismay, Remy had poured the rest of Colin’s rosé down the drain. When she’d protested, he’d reminded her of what she’d done to the drink he’d received from the woman in St. Lucia.

  That shut her up.

  As she sipped the Chablis, Remy took the fork from her other hand and twirled it into the linguine noodles. When she set the glass down, he held the fork up to her and she opened her mouth. He slid it inside, watching the way her lips closed around the warm tines.

  Before she could stop him, he leaned over and stole another kiss flavored with spices, succulent crab and white wine.

  “Umm,” he rumbled appreciatively. “Delicious.”

  Zandra licked her lips. “Indeed.”

  Setting the fork down, Remy folded her into his arms, brushed her hair over one shoulder and nuzzled the nape of her neck. She shivered at the warmth of his lips and the soft scrape of his goatee on her skin.

  Gazing out across the moonlit lake, she sighed contentedly. “Do you realize that I’ve spent most of this evening on your lap?”

  Remy nibbled her ear. “You don’t hear me complaining.”

  She smiled, closing her eyes. “No, I don’t.”

  “And you won’t. I love having you on my lap.” As he reached inside her robe and gently cupped her breast, Zandra gasped and swatted his hand away.

  “Stop that,” she laughingly scolded, clutching her robe together and knotting the sash. “I’m trying to enjoy a civilized meal here.”

  “Sweetheart,” Remy drawled, “I’ve never claimed to be civilized—”

  Zandra snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

  “—but I’m evolved enough to know that the meal’s over when there’s no more food.”

  Zandra glanced down at the table, surprised to see that their plate was empty. When had that happened?

  Remy chuckled. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

  “Apparently so.” Zandra dragged her finger through a puddle of garlic sauce and licked it off, then sighed. “I’ll definitely have to ask Cora to add this to the rotation.”

  “Hmm. Well, speaking of rotating...” Remy’s tongue swiped the shell of Zandra’s ear and she trembled, unintentionally squirming in his lap. His dick hardened, pushing against the cleft between her butt cheeks. As heat shot to her groin, she bit back a moan and picked up the empty plate.

  “Time for dessert.”

  Before Remy could grab her, she sprang from his lap and laughingly darted back inside the apartment.

  He followed her, sauntering into the kitchen where she stood at the sink running water to wash the plate and fork. With his SEAL tattoo stretched over his thick biceps and his dark pants slung low on his hips, he looked so rakishly sexy that her knees went weak. And that was before he came up behind her, pressing her against the counter until she could feel the heat of his naked chest burning through her silk robe.

  She swallowed tightly. “I took the tart out of the fridge before dinner,” she told him, her voice breathy. “It can be served cold, but I prefer room temperature.”

  “That’s fine,” Remy murmured against her neck, sending sensual shivers down her spine, “but I already told you what I want for dessert.”

  She trembled as he slowly dragged her robe up her bare thighs. “Cora went to the trouble—”

  “Oh, we can have the tart. Strawberry, right?”

  Zandra gave a jerky nod.

  “Good. I like strawberries.” Sucking her earlobe, he reached between her thighs and touched her drenched, throbbing sex. “Mmm. All this cream. More than enough to drizzle over some plump strawberries.”

  Zandra whimpered as he stroked her hard clit while grinding his erection against her ass.

  He whispered in her ear, “I’m gonna lay you down on this countertop, spread your legs wide open and eat those strawberries right out of your sweet, dripping pussy.”

  Zandra groaned, the plate clattering into the sink as she lost her grip. “Remy—”

  The sudden blast of a phone made her jump.

  Remy tensed against her, swearing under his breath.

  After a few moments, he reluctantly pulled his hand out from beneath her robe and stalked over to the center island, where he’d left his cell phone earlier. He picked it up and checked the caller ID. Although his expression betrayed nothing, Zandra instinctively sensed that the caller was someone he didn’t want to speak to in her presence.

  Which meant it was probably a woman.

  He glanced at Zandra. “Be right back.”

  She nodded, watching as he turned and strode from the kitchen. Moments later she heard the balcony doors open and close, and she frowned.

  If Remy felt the need to step outside to take the call, it had to be a woman. Why else would he require such privacy?

  Don’t jump to conclusions, a small voice reasoned. He could be discussing work. Given the sensitive nature of his profession, it’d make perfect sense for him to want privacy to speak to an employee or a client. You of all people should understand that. Besides, why should it matter if he’s talking to one of his bimbos? He doesn’t belong to you any more than you belong to him.

  Gritting her teeth, Zandra finished washing the plate and fork, then stood there debating whether to cut into the strawberry tart or put the damn thing back into the refrigerator.

  She still hadn’t decided by the time Remy returned to the kitchen carrying the bottle of wine and the glass they’d shared over dinner.

  “Sorry about that,” he murmured.

  “No problem.” Zandra strove for aloofness. “Is everything okay?”

  He nodded, setting down the bottle and empty glass.

  She hesitated, then couldn’t resist asking casually, “Who was on the phone?”

  Pause. “Work.”

  Though Remy had always been frighteningly adept at hiding his emotions, Zandra knew him well enough to detect when he was lying.

  He was lying now.

  As a knot of jealousy unfurled inside her, she walked over and picked up the covered glass dish containing the strawberry tart.

  Remy frowned, watching as she shoved the dessert back inside the refrigerator. “What’re you doing? I thought we were gonna eat that.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s late,�
� she said curtly, “and I need to be up early.”

  His eyes narrowed on her face.

  She stared back defiantly.

  After another moment, he nodded slowly. “All right.”

  His acquiescence further incensed her, confirming her suspicion that he’d been talking to another woman. A woman who was probably waiting for him this very moment.

  As he turned and left the kitchen, Zandra followed him, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor.

  She watched as he crossed to the chair where they’d made love and picked up his shirt, which she’d folded and draped neatly over the back. His muscles flexed as he shrugged into the ruined shirt, then sat down and shoved his feet into those humongous combat boots he’d worn with his suit—a look only he could pull off.

  “I have to go out of the country on business for a few days,” he told her. “You can reach me on my cell if you need anything.”

  Zandra folded her arms across her chest. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  He nodded, tying his boots. “You still going to that fundraiser on Sunday?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I thought we could go together.”

  Zandra sniffed. “Actually, I already invited Colin to go with me,” she lied.

  Remy glanced up sharply. His expression was so ominous she took an unconscious step backward. “I suggest you uninvite him,” he growled.

  Her temper flared. “I suggest you go to hell.”

  He glared at her, a muscle throbbing in his jaw.

  She returned the glare.

  “Fine,” he muttered darkly. “I’ll go with one of your girls, then.”

  Zandra froze, staring at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Set me up on a date with one of your escorts.”

  Her jaw went slack. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me.” He pushed to his feet. “I was invited to the fundraiser. Since you won’t go with me, I’d like to take one of your escorts.”