“You don’t have to do this.” He protested, pulling away from me just the slightest bit. He wasn’t embarrassed. Hell, I don’t fully believe he is really capable of experiencing embarrassment. He was turned on, and I could easily tell.
His cheeks were tinted pink and his smile was weak.
I smirked and told him, “You say this like I am doing this for your benefit. I am doing this because I want to, and for no other reason.”
It was honestly flattering the way he blushed and sputtered. He mentioned how it was the hottest thing he’s ever heard under his breath, and I just smirked. Damn, right it is. Damn right, I am the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
Poor guy. He didn’t even understand how much I wanted to do this. Like he was just unable to comprehend that I wanted to reciprocate, make him feel as good as he makes me feel. How I was aching to do this for so long. I don’t think he even could understand it if I deigned to explain myself to him.
My tongue darted out to like the semi-transparent, whitish liquid that was at the tip of his head. He immediately made a muffled moan, throwing his head back in pleasure and jerking his hips. I held his hips down so he didn’t make me choke on him.
“Behave.” I purred, smirking against his cock. “Or I’ll be forced to punish you.”
I let my tongue continue to lick all the liquid off the head of his cock, delighting in the whimpers and the way he trembled as he tried to refrain from thrusting into my mouth. I have to admit; I’ve always had a taste for odd flavors. This, however, may have been one of the best things I have ever tasted. I needed more. I will get more.
“I’m almost mad.” I nonchalantly said, pulling away for a moment. I purposefully ignored his whimpers and whines as I teased him, “You should never have kept me from such a delicious thing for so long.”
I went back to licking and nibbling on the sensitive head of his cock. I waited until he was whimpering and begging. Until he just whined my name over and over, begging for a release that only I could provide, so beautifully.
When I engulfed the head in my mouth, I made three abrupt realizations. They occurred nearly simultaneously.
First, I find that the warmth of his heated flesh in my mouth felt good, that was not what I expected. Every girl I had spoken to before said it would not be fun, but your guy would feel good so it was worth putting up with a little discomfort. I stand by my agreement with that phrase. Any amount of discomfort was worth making him feel good. But I didn’t feel that discomfort right now. It was good.
Secondly, as I stared at the rest of his cock that isn’t yet in my mouth I found that he was huge. Despite the fact that I assumed he was large, I still underestimated the size of his cock, and I was almost concerned for how it would fit. I could just feel my throat getting sore as I choked on it because he humped my mouth.
Finally, I realized I was wrong. Oh god, I was wrong about his noises. No sound could be better than the soft mewl he just made. Beautiful. I wish I had my phone out so I could record that sound and play it over and over.
In retaliation, I decided to force the sound out of him more. I raised my hand up to pump the rest of his cock. I slowly opened my mouth wider and let more of him into my mouth, gagging as I felt the head of his cock hit the back of my throat, the wispy pubes at the base tickling my nose.
He continued making those noises, and I had to hold his hips down to keep him from forcibly humping my throat as he got closer and closer to his release. I kept doing the motions, slowing down right when he got to the edge and speeding up again until my neck was starting to hurt and my throat was definitely sore.
Weirdly enough, I even like the way those things ached it felt really good.
When I finally let him get to his release, the sound he made as he cried was indescribable. I choked as he humped my face, his come sliding down my throat. It tasted even better than his pre-cum, I have to admit. Oh god. I could just do this forever.
Make him feel good. Make him moan. Make him come. Make him feel good. Make him-
And his arms were around me now, he was brushing the softest kisses to my cheeks. He was so gentle. He loved me so much. “You’re so special. So beautiful.”
I don’t know what changed at this moment, but his touch was electrifying. Every spot on my body that he pressed his lips against lit up like a livewire. More intense than any other time he has touched me.
I batted his hands away. “No,” I ordered him. “I’m still in control.”
He made a whining noise deep in his throat. The whining noise became louder and louder as I ground against him. Electricity went through me at every movement. Every second of delicious skin on skin contact made me feel like my very soul was on fire.
I slowly pulled off the rest of my clothes, running my hands over his skin. He was a drug, and I was addicted. I wish I could be upset about it, but no part of me was.
When I finally divested myself of all my clothes, my womanhood was throbbing with need. I had neglected touching myself at all to make him feel good, and I may have been going crazy with want.
I ground against him, mewling as his cock rubbed against the lips of my pussy. He was hard again. Thank god for my Werebear’s incredibly short refractory period. I do not have the patience to wait that long for him.
He whimpered and whined, begging me for him as he ran his hands over my skin. Every place he touched burned, in the best way. As if every nerve in my body was set aflame and his touch somehow both soothed and enraged the fire simultaneously.
“No touching.” I tried to be confident, trying to retain this delicious control I had over the most attractive man in the cosmos. “Don’t make me tie you up.”
He practically drooled at the thought, and I have to put that away for later. Definitely.
His hands left my body and I was torn between being happy that I was in control, and mourning the awful loss of his beautiful skin on mine. The thought left my mind as he wriggled his hips, grinding against me as best he can.
A loud cry left my lips before I bit my bottom lip and pulled away just a bit in punishment. “Damian. Behave.” I ordered.
“Or what?” He gave me his most devious grin. “You’ll spank me?”
Despite my misgivings, my hand ached to spank his muscled rear. I didn’t even think I was into that until now! This is not even fair. God, he was so perfect and it just wasn’t fair for any other person on this planet.
“You really want to.” He whispered it in awe, his lips curling into an overly smug, self-satisfied grin. “Don’t you? I know you do. I’m just that amazing.”
I almost growled at him. God damn it, why does he have to be so smug all the time? It was horribly annoying and made me want to destroy something. At the same time, I know I never want to hurt him in any way.
Well, except the way I did. Because my retaliation was to tangle my fingers in those beautiful raven locks of his and tug. Hard. The way he moaned at the pain brought a smirk to my lips.
Kissing and nipping his neck as I ground against him was always fun. Leaving my mark on him, even temporarily. Showing to the world that he is mine. All mine. (Maybe his Werebear tendencies are rubbing off on me? Who knows.)
Finally, I sunk down onto his cock, guiding it into me. I mewled loudly. We’ve had sex multiple times, but this time it is like magic. The slightest movement sent a rush of pleasure through my body.
Slowly, we rocked to a melody that only I know. Holding his hips down as he whimpered and whined, clearly wanting nothing more to just bang me into the luxurious – only the best for the two of us, I suppose - mattress was so enthralling. The sight of his face as his voice caught, clearly trying to beg for something, but being unable to formulate the words.
It’s not like it was easy for me either. I underestimated just how much I wanted to move fast. How much self-control it takes to deny not just him, but myself as well. Is this what he goes through, every time he decides to tease me?
If so, I have severely underestimated
the man I have married. I have severely underestimated him, and I am awed by his level of self-restraint.
Especially awed, because it takes less than another minute for me to get overstimulated. To buck against him furiously as my eyes gaze in awe at his features. There is even beauty in the way he is panting and the sheen of sweat covering his perfect skin.
He’s perfect. And the sensations going through me were too intense.
It took mere moments for me to orgasm, my eyes rolling back in the head as the pleasure crashed over me in waves, threatening to drag me under.
I didn’t notice he had rolled us over so I was on my back under him until I felt his powerful strokes. He pounded me into the mattress and my overstimulated nerves became more frazzled. He didn’t stop until I had too much.
All the pleasure at once was too much and it made me feel too good.
When we finally stopped, he took me in his arms and stroked my hair. He cooed softly into my ear as I trembled from a volatile mixture of pain and bliss that I could barely understand.
“I love you.” His soft voice crooned.
Looking in his eyes, I knew it was the truth.
It was the only truth I needed to know for the world to make sense.
It was enough.
It would always be enough.
“I love you too,” I told him, letting my eyes slowly drift close, knowing whatever we would have to face in the future, we would face together. And that is more than good enough for me.
We were more than enough.
And we always will be.
Always.
Unbearable Temptation
By: Cassidy Rowe
Unbearable Temptation
© July 2017 – All rights reserved
By Cassidy Rowe
Published by Passionate Publishing Inc.
This is a work of fiction. All names and characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.
This book is for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher.
Warning
This book is intended for adult readers, 18+ years old. Please close this e-book if you are not comfortable reading adult content.
Chapter One: Gerard
“This is Hawkeye, calling Shadow. Do you read me?”
The sound of his partner’s voice came clearly through the earpiece that Gerard was wearing in his right ear, his hand currently occupied in gripping one of the stone windowsills that lead up into the mansion of Monterrey de Ortega, a wealthy Spanish businessman whom his client had requested to have a few sensitive documents lifted from his home. Exactly what was in those documents he couldn’t say, but given the fact that the client had been willing to pay he and his partner thirty-thousand dollars for this job, he wasn’t going to ask too many questions.
“I hear you, Hawkeye. How are things looking on your end?” he asked as he reached his hand up towards the next ledge, his foot moving from the foothold he had been using to climb higher, taking great pains to make sure that he didn’t glance down. Vertigo was a consistent thing when it came to him, and while he could control his hesitation about heights to a certain extent, I couldn’t completely undo it. Even with all those years of training, I still have much to learn.
“It looks like we are in the clear. The guards are still changing shifts, so you’ve got at least ten minutes before everyone is back in position. Are you nearing his office?”
Gerard smiled at the sound of his partner’s distinctly feminine voice, her British accent tickling his ear slightly as he pulled himself up to the window that he had been trying to reach and pushing up on the bottom of it. The client, someone who was well acquainted with the target, had visited the mansion only a couple of days before. He had been the one to arrange for the documents to be placed in a safe in the very room that Gerard was about to break into, and had also been the one to ensure that the window remained unlocked. The agent known as Shadow smirked as he felt the window slide open effortlessly, crawling through it and landing gently on his feet, immediately pressing himself back against the wall in order to merge with the shadows while he waited for his eyes to adjust.
“I’m in,” he said quietly into the small microphone positioned in front of his mouth, making sure not to speak at any volume higher than a whisper for fear of alerting someone to his presence. Even if the guards were changing right now, that was no guarantee that they might not have stationed at least one person in front of the door on the off chance someone might try to do the very thing that he was doing right now. “There seems to be no sign that anyone knows I am here just yet.”
“The briefing said that we would find the envelope containing the documents we are looking for in the bottom drawer of the expensive mahogany desk that should be in the middle of that room,” Hawkeye said in a hushed tone. “Do you see the desk in question?”
Now that his eyes had grown accustomed to the level of gloom in the room, he took the time to glance around. He could just barely make out a looming shadow a few feet away from where he knelt, the faint gleam of moonlight reflecting off what looked to be lacquered wood catching my his immediately. “I think I might have found it, yeah,” he said cheekily, creeping quietly across the floor until he was kneeling right next to the sizable desk chair that sat behind the giant wooden piece of furniture. It was at that moment that he pulled out the small flashlight that he always carried on these kinds of missions and turned it on low, allowing himself just enough light so he could get a good look at the desk in question.
It looked to be one of those old-fashioned desks that had been all the rage in England back in the early 1900’s, though he could tell that this one had been designed specifically with the owner in mind. There was a single key hole located in the center of each of the drawers that employed something like a deadbolt.
“The drawer has a dead bolt lock on it, though, so this might take a moment for me to undo.”
“Well, try not to take all night. The guards are now all in position once more, so your extraction is going to be a little trickier than your infiltration was, and I would rather not have to blemish my perfect record by having today be our first failure,” she said snippily, the sound of her teeth chattering coming through clearly in his ear.
“If I recall correctly, I was the one who said I had no problem with serving as the lookout. You were the one who said that it would be more reasonable for me to make the infiltration, even though you are smaller and probably would have had a much easier time climbing up the side of the bloody mansion,” he muttered into his mouthpiece. “Seems a little late to complain now.”
“Just shut up and get those damn files,” she said snidely, temporarily severing our connection.
I need to have a serious word with my superiors about her when I get home. Even for her usually bad-tempered self, this is a little bit much. He couldn’t say that he was really surprised about her being in a bad mood. Apparently, she and her boyfriend had broken up only a few days before the two of them had left on this mission. They had been going steady for as long as Gerard could remember, so it was obvious that it was affecting her greatly.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts of the drama of Hawkeye’s life, he pulled a lock pick from the small backpack where he kept his supplies and went to work on the lock. This was something that he had done thousands of times in his career as a spy, the movements almost feeling like they came second nature to him. Gerard soon heard that satisfying sound of the lock clicking, the drawer popping open slightly. Shining the small beam of flashlight inside, he couldn’t hold back the wide smile that spread across his face as a thick manila folder came into view.
Jackpot. “Shadow to Hawkeye, I’ve found what we are looking for,’ he said softly, pulling the envelope slowly from the inside of the desk drawer, my flashlight shining onto the big, embossed stamp on the front. “
Give me a status report.”
The line was silent for a moment before Elena’s voice finally came through his headset. “We might have a bit of a situation here, Shadow. I just saw a limousine pull up in front of the mansion, and Ortega was in the back seat. I can’t see where he is headed, but something tells me that he might be headed for the room that you are in right now,” she said urgently. “I think that you need to get yourself out of there, and quick!’
“Say no more; we got what we came here for,” he replied, slipping the folder beneath his shirt, feeling the coarse material rubbing against his chest. “I’m going to make my way out now.”
“Are you going out of the window again? If so, I would recommend using a grappling hook or something like that. I’m not sure you’ll be able to find decent enough handholds if you are trying to rush, but we don’t really have the time for you to take your time,” she said urgently, the note of worry in her voice flattering him.
“Didn’t know you cared that much,” he said teasingly, reaching into his backpack and retrieving his grappling hook from within.
“I care about getting paid, and I won’t be able to do that if you manage to botch this operation,” she snapped.
Gerard chose not to dignify that with a response. Moving over to the window, he bit his lip as he considered how he was going to get out of this situation. He didn’t want to whirl the hook around too many times for fear of it attracting attention, not to mention the fact that he would basically be making a shot in the dark. No need to worry. I’ve done stuff like this countless times before, and in far worse situations.
Just as he was about to start swinging his grappling hook to try and make his escape, he heard the sound of footsteps outside of the door. He sighed gently before slipping out of the window, his hand gripping the windowsill tightly as he tried to find himself a foothold. He almost cursed as he felt his foot slip, but thankfully, his arm strength managed to hold out long enough for him to find another foothold. Exhaling gently in relief, he started climbing down the side of the mansion, using the hook to help keep him secure. As soon as he felt his feet touch the ground, he ran, keeping his arm pressed against his stomach to keep the folder pressed against his skin.
Single Dad’s Plaything: A Single Dad First Time Billionaire Romance Page 45