Big Girls Do It Boxed Set

by Jasinda Wilder

  Well, the doubts were still there, they were just pushed down under a torrent of lust.

  He stood waiting for me, thick arms crossed over his broad chest, dark hair messy and sort-of-but-not-quite spiked, brown eyes blazing. He looked like he could, and would, drag me to the nearest bathroom and fuck me in a toilet stall. How do you resist that kind of naked lust?

  You don't.

  He pulled me into a hug, palms circling on my back, drifting lower and lower, and then he grabbed my ass in full view of everyone in the airport. I opened my mouth to protest, and then he kissed me, hard enough to take my breath away and make me forget what I was saying.

  I'd almost forgotten how he could do that.

  "Come on, hot stuff," he said, "I've got a cab waiting."

  He pulled me into a fast walk, and I forgot to ream him out for groping me in public. Besides, I asked myself, how much do I really mind? Not so much, came the answer. He was claiming me. I didn't mind being claimed. And oh boy, the promise of the things he would do with his hands, when we were in private, had my blood racing.

  "How was the flight?" He asked.

  "Fine. Nothing eventful. How's things with the band coming?"

  "Great! We're in the studio right now, recording our first LP. Once that's in post, we're going on tour, just local stuff at first, New York, Buffalo, Atlantic City, DC. We'll be opening for some big name bands though, so it'll be great exposure." He squeezed my hand, his excitement palpable, radiating off him in waves. "Have you ever been to a recording studio? I'll bring you with me. You'll love it. It's so fun."

  He chattered all the way through baggage claim and out to the taxi line. The taxi ride into the city was full of more Chase-chatter with barely a pause for breath. He didn't ask me much of anything about how I'd been since I'd seen him last.

  His hand crept up my leg as we sat in the back of the taxi, and slow crawl up to the hem of my skirt. I let his chatter wash over me and focused on wondering how far his hand would venture, and how far I'd let it. The cabbie's eyes flicked back to us every once in a while, and I wondered how much he could see through the rearview mirror. I tried to think about being in a car, driving, looking in the mirror into the backseat.

  You can't see much, can you?

  I smirked, and decided to let Chase explore as far as he wanted, just as a dare. I let my legs loosen a little, and Chase's fingers made their first exploratory move under the hem. It wasn't much of a skirt, really. Short enough to need my legs crossed when sitting in view of others.

  Chase was going on about isolating the instruments and layering them in post-production, and how his bassist had trouble playing his part without the rest of the band. I nodded, made agreeable noises at the appropriate places, and slid my bottom down a bit farther.

  His fingers were tickling my inner thighs, working upwards. Another shift of my legs, and his forefinger was brushing my core through the thin silk of my panties. I bit my tongue and forced myself to keep still. He glanced at me and grinned, a cat's-caught-the-canary smile. Then his middle finger worked its way underneath the band next to my leg to slip into my folds, which grew wetter the farther he got.

  He never slowed his patter as he found my clit with one finger, and now he circled it, slow and soft. I swallowed hard and tried not to gasp when the climax began almost immediately. God, was I ready. It was as much anticipation as anything. The memory of what Chase could do, and would do.

  A soft sigh escaped me, and the cabbie glanced back, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He knows, I thought. But I didn't care. I was close, raging and ready. He never increased his pace, just kept a slow and steady stroking rhythm, even when the cabbie struck up a conversation about...I don't even know what. Something inane. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, scattered and lost in the blaze of a rising climax that wouldn't pass the edge.

  I put my hand over his and pushed, wanting him to go faster, harder, but he only let a corner of his mouth tip up in a mocking smirk.

  The bastard is playing with me, I realized.

  By the time the cabbie let us out at Chase's address, a modest walk-up shared with the rest of the band, I was a quivering, knock-kneed wreck. Chase grabbed my single suitcase from the trunk, paid the driver, and led me in. He gave me a tour, a long, detailed tour. He introduced me to his friends/bandmates/roommates, and made sure they engaged me in witty banter. Witty fucking banter, when I was a few good touches away from coming, and hard.

  I was on the edge still, every step brushing my thighs together and making my nub ache harder. It didn't help that Chase took every opportunity during the tour and the conversation to touch me in some surreptitious way, just enough to keep my desire alive and burning.

  I was snarling with unfulfilled sexual need and irritation by the time Chase showed me to his room and closed the door behind him, twisting the lock with a flourish. He held my bag in one hand, the other in his pocket, a shit-eating grin on his face. I was flushed, my hair sticking to my temples, my legs shaking like leaves.

  "Miss me?" Chase asked. Cocky bastard.

  I attacked him. I mean, I just about flying tackled him. He dropped the suitcase with a loud thud and caught me against his chest, our tongues clashing and colliding, hands ripping zippers open and peeling clothes off.

  Chase pushed me away, chest heaving, and pulled my shirt over my head, going slowly now, and then pushed my skirt down past my hips. He was hard, his erection bulging against his pants, and I reached for him, but he moved out of reach.

  "My turn first," he said, unhooking my bra. "I've missed you. I need to see you."

  I wasn't sure if that was a self-centered thing, or a compliment. It didn't matter. He had me naked in front of him, and he was running his hands over my body as if it were the most precious thing he'd ever seen, and simply couldn't get enough.

  I was wet and trembling, aching. I wanted him to push me down onto the bed and slip inside me, take me hard, or slow, or anything.

  "Take me, Chase," I breathed. "Take me, please."

  "Are you begging me?" Chase asked, rolling a nipple gently between a thumb and forefinger.

  I arched my back, thrusting my breast into his hand, writhed my hips into his thigh.

  "Yes." I wasn't above begging. "Please, Chase. I want you."

  Chase stepped back, taking his hands off me. "Say it, baby. Beg me."

  He wanted me to play the game. Well, I could play too. He was hard, and I knew he wanted me. His eyes betrayed him. The twitching curl of his fingers betrayed him.

  I moved toward him, putting an extravagant sway to my hips. I slipped my hands underneath his chest to his nipples and pinched, hard. He grimaced and tried to escape, but I followed him. I bit his earlobe, breathing into his ear, and dug a single finger under the waistband of his leather pants, brushing the tip. His stomach jerked inward, and his hands flew to my waist, cupped my ass, pulled me against him. I circled around behind him, kissing his neck, his jaw, and his ear again.

  "Beg you?" I whispered. "How about you beg me?"

  Chase squared his shoulders and set his jaw. "I don't think so."

  I laughed, and reached around his waist to unbutton his pants. His hands groped behind to reach for me, but all he could reach at this angle were my hips. I let him touch me. My hips ground into his ass, and I tugged his pants down, just enough to free the tip.

  "I'm so wet, Chase," I whispered, rubbing the pad of my thumb on the drop of pre-come oozing from him. "I'm wet for you. I'm aching. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me, Chase."

  He tried to turn around, but I danced to follow his motion, and he went still. "It's not nice to tease a girl. Don't you know that?" I said. Chase groaned.

  I dipped my hand into his boxer-briefs to take his full length in one hand. He rolled his hips, but I let go, scraping the tip with a fingernail in slow, gentle circles.

  "How about you beg me," I whispered. "You know I want you. I could drop to my knees and suck you off, right now. All you have to d
o is beg."

  Chase sucked in his breath between his teeth, but otherwise kept silent and still. I pushed his pants down a bit farther, past his hips. My teeth at his earlobe again, I took his balls in one hand and his erection in the other, stroking and massaging. Chase refused to move, even when I began pumping him. A change in tactics was required, then. I pulled his shirt off with one hand, still sliding my fist up and down his length. He couldn't stop his breathing from changing, though, and I knew he was nearing the end of his control.

  Next came the pants, which were more of a struggle with one hand, but I did it, along with some judicious use of my feet. He was naked too, then, and my hands were doing their slow work on him, his breathing growing ragged, his hips beginning to tremble despite his attempts at control. At last, a moan escaped his lips, and that was my cue.

  I let go of his shaft and massaged his sack, pressing a finger in a gentle circle to his taint. He groaned, growled, and thrust his hips, close, so close, but unable to come without me. He grabbed for my hands, but I resisted his attempts to guide me back to him.

  "Anna," he said, his voice ragged. "Goddamn it."

  I moved in front of him, pressed my body against his, slid my folds against him, ground into him, slipped my hands over his body, kissed him everywhere.

  Time for the real teasing.

  I dropped to my knees, kissing his torso on the way down, took him in my hands again, caressed him in a hand-over-hand motion. He threw his head back, anticipating.

  Anticipate away, baby, I thought. Not gonna happen how you think it is.

  I even went so far as to wrap my lips around his head and suck until my cheeks hollowed. He was close, I could feel him tensing, about to come, and I spat him out again, glancing up at him, a wicked smile on my face.

  "Oh, I'm sorry, were you about to come?" I said, trying to sound innocent.

  Chase growled at me and tangled his fingers in my hair, but didn't apply any pressure.

  "Not gonna work," he growled.

  I lifted an eyebrow in a 'we'll see' gesture. I took him in my mouth again, stroking him with my hands now as I bobbed on him, put a finger to his taint again and massaged, faster now, hands sliding up and down, lips sealed around his head, and his knees began to move....

  This time his growl of frustration was loud and irritated.

  I crawled onto the bed, laid down on my back and spread my knees wide. Chase's eyes followed me, hungry and predatory. I slid my hands on my skin, rubbing up from my belly to take my breasts in my hands, thumbing the nipples, hefting the heavy mounds, then down between my legs. Slow, then. A single finger tracing the crease between my labia, dipping in to swipe the slick juices.

  "Look how wet I am," I said, showing my glistening finger. "You want me?"

  Chase crawled up on the bed, eyes burning. I slapped my knees closed and covered my breasts with my arms, as if suddenly demure.

  "Tell me you want me," I said.

  Chase rocked back on his knees, brow furrowed in irritation. "You know I do."

  "Say it."

  "I want you."

  I shook my head. "Tell me what you want to do to me."

  "I want to tie you up and fuck you until you can't walk."

  I widened my eyes as if shocked. Chase grinned and scooted off the bed, rummaged in a dresser drawer and pulled out four neckties. He held them up, two in each hand.

  I spread my hands and feet wide, waiting for him. This time, he tied my hands and feet both, and I felt a rush of true nerves, then. With my feet free, I wasn't as vulnerable. I was completely at his mercy.

  I was spread-eagle before him, and now he climbed up on the bed between my legs, ran his hands up from my knees to my thighs, dragged a thumb down, not entering, but teasing.

  He could tease me as long as he wanted, touch me until I was near to orgasm and then stop. For hours, if he wanted. I refused to let fear show on my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended indifference as he teased my entrance with a finger.

  A single push inside, one finger. I gasped, bucked my hips. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the sensation without sight. Two fingers, then, curling up to caress my G-spot, and now I whimpered. Two fingers and a tongue, stroking my walls and licking my clit, and I jerked my hands against the bonds holding me in place.

  Climax rising, rising, fire burning, and Chase kept going, bringing me to the edge.

  "Don't stop, please, please don't stop," I said.

  He didn't stop. He flicked and stroked and licked me over the precipice, and I moaned, refusing to scream. He didn't stop, though. I was hypersensitive, every touch like fire on my skin, and I wanted him to stop, to give me a minute, but he didn't. This was a new torture. He withdrew his fingers and used his tongue alone, moving in circles and squares, side to side and up and down, and now...holy shit, another orgasm blossomed through me and I bit off a shriek of ecstasy, pleasure so potent it was like pain.

  His weight descended on me, and now I felt a new pressure probing my entrance, finally. But he didn't enter me. Oh, how I wanted to beg him, but refused. He pushed the very tip inside, gripped himself in his hand and moved in circles inside me, brushing my clit, and now it was there, his moist tip against my throbbing nub. He thrust, ever so slightly, sex in miniature. I sucked in a ragged breath at the flush of lightning bursting through me.

  And then he pulled away, probably about to come himself. His lips found my breast, and his fingers the other, and now I entered a new realm of heaven as he licked and laved and tongued and pinched me.

  There was no warning. He thrust inside me in one push, driving to the hilt, hard. My eyes flew open and I breathed a whimper, straining against the ties. His mouth remained on my nipple, and he didn't thrust again, just stayed there, buried to the root, our hips grinding together. I tried to move into him, but he held my hips down with one hand.

  He was inside me, and another climax was building. I wanted him to move, needed him to thrust.

  "Please..." I couldn't help myself.

  He didn't move. He grazed his teeth on my stiffened nipple, then moved to the other. His hand held me down, kept me from rolling my hips.

  "Damn it, Chase, please!"

  I was past games. I'd come twice without him inside me, and it just wasn't the same. I wanted him deep, wanted to feel his length sliding inside me.

  "Please what?"

  "Enough teasing. Just fuck me."

  "Hard, or soft?" He accompanied his question with a slow pull out and a hard thrust in.

  "God, yes, just like that. Both. Either. I don't care!"

  He moved again like he had before, a torturously slow withdrawal, until only the very tip was left inside me, and he hesitated there, stopping the flutter of my hips with his powerful hand, and then he crashed back into me. I gasped when he plunged in. He did it again, and again, slow out, fast in.

  Then he switched, pulling out quickly and driving in as slow as he could. More teasing. I wanted rhythm, I wanted him to move and move and move, hard and fast or slow and soft, I didn't care, but I couldn't find release like this. It felt delicious, but it wouldn't bring me over the edge.

  He switched tactics again, now adjusting the depth of his strokes, shallow, shallow, setting a rhythm but only a few inches in and out. Maddening. Deeper now, yes, I whispered encouragement, gasped his name as he neared what I wanted, deep thrusts hard inside me.

  I felt him abandon the games. He settled his weight on me, forearms planted underneath my neck, his lips crushing mine in hungry kisses. Finally, thank god, he drew out and plunged in, deep, as far as he could go, and again, a slow rhythm at last.

  "God, Anna. I missed you. I missed this, so much."

  I missed it too, but I couldn't speak to say it. The anticipation of this, all the many minutes of teasing had me desperate for him, had the explosion wild and rampant through me, but I couldn't move anything by my hips in the shallowest of rolls. I wanted to wrap myself around him, hold him as he drove into me, faster now, but I could
n't.

  I tugged at the ties, jerked my feet, bucked wildly as he moved above me.

  "Oh god, oh god," I moaned, needing to be freed, "let me go, let me go!"

  He was gone, lost in the frenzy, and I could only gasp his name. He came, hard, so hard, and the fiery liquid of his seed filling me sent me over the edge, the mad thrust inside me sent me over the edge, his body going stiff in the throes of orgasm sent me over the edge.

  This climax made stars crash in blinding bursts behind my eyes, and I couldn't stop the shrieks this time. Fire in my veins, in my muscles, in every cell, but still he thrust, pushing me past orgasm into desperation, back into pleasure so powerful it hurt.

  At long last his motion slowed and he untied me with trembling fingers.

  Something twinged in my heart, a brief but sharp pang of some emotion I didn't recognize. I didn't like it, didn't want to categorize it, and I pushed it away. I curled in to rest my head on Chase's chest.

  "God, I needed that," Chase said, after a long silence.

  "It was definitely intense," I said.

  Chase gave me an odd look, which I interpreted to mean he'd expected me to say "me too." Which was dangerously close to having to realize it hadn't actually been all that long...

  Shit. This is awkward.

  The look passed, and I let myself drowse, feeling Chase's arm around me, his thick pectoral muscle a perfect pillow.

  I woke up to Chase shaking me gently.

  "Come on, sleepyhead. We've got reservations."

  "Hmmm-what?" I forced myself to a sitting position, the sheet pooling around my waist. "Reservations?"

  "For dinner. This place my buddy knows about, real tiny, but really great food." He grinned and tugged the sheet off me. "So get moving. Dress up nice."

  * * *

  I'm not even sure if the restaurant even had a name, honestly. The menus were small squares of thick white paper printed in black calligraphy. There was no name, no prices, no descriptions, just the item name. Very...minimalist.

  The food was delicious, though. Incredible, actually. Strange pairings like steak and roasted apple, or garlic hummus and pork chops with candied asparagus. Bizarre. I found myself having a really great time, which shouldn't have surprised me, but did. I'd never been on a date with Chase. Never spoken to him outside of Ram's Horn and our one night together.