by Zara Cox
I cup one breast and squeeze her nipple, unwilling to lower my head because I’m hungry to see her face when she falls off the edge into ecstasy.
“Oh God!” Her nails dig in harder, and her back arches off the hood as her insides begin to clench around my fingers.
She’s so tight I have to twist my fingers to go deeper. The recollection that she hasn’t been fucked in months slashes across my mind, nearly pushing me into abandoning my resolve not to fuck her.
Color rushes up her chest and neck and I curl my fingers, stroking her sweet spot. I watch her explode, her moans guttural and deliciously helpless as she thrashes on the hood. I continue to tease her clit and finger-fuck her until her legs start to close.
“Stop. Please.” She sounds nothing like the mouthy Brooklyn girl intent on driving me nuts with her stubborn streak. She’s pliant and soft in a way that really isn’t safe for me to be around. Because this is how I like my women. In a position when I can bend them to my will, get them to agree to almost anything I want from them.
But I’m unable to move. Unable to stop watching Keely come down from her sensual high. I continue to slide in and out of her. She moans and moves her fingers from my shoulders to my hair. Her eyes open and she looks at me. She seems to want to fight it, but then her legs fall open again and her breathing changes. I stroke her pleasure until she’s panting again, then remove my fingers. I silence her groan of protest by placing my soaked fingers against her mouth.
“Lick,” I instruct harshly.
The spark in her eyes confirms something I’d been suspecting. Keely is used to calling the shots when it comes to her lovers. A tinge of regret goes through me. In another time, I’d have taken pleasure in challenging that dominant streak; in honing her fire until she accepts my leash without question.
“Do as I say, Keely.”
Another spark of green fire. But slowly she parts her lips, and her tongue licks between my fingers. I groan. The sound seems to please her, enough for her to lap faster, her eyes locked on mine as she licks her juices off the inside of my fingers. When she starts to turn her head to get at my knuckles, I turn them and spread the moisture over her lips.
Then I seal my mouth over hers, crushing her sweetness between our lips. Fire burns through my veins, and once again I debate the decision to hold back. I slide my hand between the robe and her body and cup her plump ass. Pulling her closer, I rub my aching erection against her wet pussy, every cell in my body screaming with the need to fuck.
When she starts whimpering again, I pull back. I grip her thighs and spread them. The sight of her exposed pussy on the expensive car almost undoes me. I should put her in the car, drive us back to Zach’s and walk away from her. But the need to make her come again overwhelms me.
Knowing I’m toying with danger, I trail my hands down her inner thighs, seeking a distraction but finding none from the wonder of her glistening pussy.
Her hands reach for me. “Please,” she moans.
I grit my teeth. “You like the stars, baby?” I ask.
Confusion clouds her face, but then she nods. “Yes.”
“Good. Recite the constellation, clockwise from Pegasus. Not all of it, but generally.”
“What? Why?”
“Because otherwise, I’m going to throw my good judgment away and fuck you. So do as I say and distract me while I eat your sweet pussy. You want to come again, don’t you?” I ask.
I can see her fight it, but she nods after a several seconds. “Yes.”
I grip her thighs, unable to stop my eyes from appreciating her beautiful pussy. My mouth waters and again I have pull myself back from the brink. From temptation. “Start now. If you stop, I stop. If you get it wrong, I stop and we go back minus another orgasm for you. Deal?”
Chapter 5
Keely
Having grown up in a tough neighborhood in Brooklyn, there are very few things that surprise me anymore. And yet, tonight I’ve been hit by one surprise after another. Most of them almost shocking enough to flatten me.
I stare up at Mason Sinclair, knowing my mouth is hanging open like a dead fish, but unable to do any more than grapple with the fact that I’m naked on the hood of a half a million dollar sports car, my only protection a thigh-length cotton robe, my body exposed to the elements and the avid gaze of the powerful man looming over me.
A man who just asked me to recite the constellations while he goes down on me.
I want to laugh. I want to snap at him for stealing my line, that I’m the one who normally demands nerdy morsels with my sex. Most of all, I want to get up off that hot hood, throw some snarky quip in his face and walk off into the night. Because he’s seriously crazy. I can see it in his eyes. I can feel it in his voice when he speaks to me. I thought I had issues. But this man has them by the barrel-load. And for whatever reason, tonight they’re straining at the leash of his control.
I should put a stop this madness, before it goes any further.
But I don’t.
Because I want to experience another orgasm like the one he just gave me again. And again and again. I lie there, the heavens shining above me, and decide to chalk it up to the insane rush of a near-death experience firing up my blood.
“Deal,” I find myself responding.
My reward is a twisty-wicked smile followed by a less-than-gentle trail of his fingers down my inner thigh. That alone is enough to set my body on fire.
He lowers his body until he’s crouched in front of the low-slung car, his shoulders, neck and face the only visible parts of his body.
“Start now.”
Another curt instruction that would normally put my back up immediately. But that orgasm had been beyond this world, and as a woman who’s made it a mission to only chase the best, most satisfying ones, I know the difference between mediocre and platinum standard.
Mason Sinclair’s were definitely double platinum.
I let that growly dominance slide. Especially as I can feel his warm breath caressing my sex.
“Pegasus,” I gasp when the rough edge of his beard whispers over my outer lips. “Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Camelopordalis, Leo,” I struggle to keep my gaze fixed upward, not to glance down at what he’s doing to me. His tongue flicks my clit and I groan. God, he’s so good. “Ursa Major, Venatici.” The broad side of his tongue licks me from hole to hood before he buries his mouth in an open-mouth kiss of my sex. My whole body shudders and my hands slam against the expensive paintwork. “Coma Vernices, Virgo—Oh!” My hips jerk as he opens me up and goes to town on my pussy, eating me with an expertise that makes my world tilt sideways.
“Keep going,” he growls against me after a long pull on my clit.
I shut my eyes and recite from memory. “Serpens Caput, Ophiuchus, Libra, Serpens Ocuda,” I recite them slower now, because I’m drowning in sensation and my brain can barely remember my own name. “Scutum...” My hands lift off the hood and I grab my breasts, pulling on my nipples as my hips roll against Mason’s mouth.
“God, that’s so hot, baby,” he croons. I don’t know whether it’s because of what I’m doing to my own body or the names spilling out of my mouth.
All I know is this is the hottest non-penetrative sex I’ve ever had. And I don’t want it to end. But I feel myself cresting the edge. “Aquila, Vulpepula...” He increases the intensity of his mouth and tongue, then slides two fingers inside me. “God, yes,” I gasp, squeezing harder on my breasts.
Strong fingers brush mine away and my breasts are cupped in warm, expert hands. He sucks my clit into his mouth the same time as he twists my nipples. I explode and feel myself bounce on the hood of the car as pleasure rips through me.
He laps me up in greedy licks, his own groans deep and guttural.
My mind disconnects with reality, and I just exist in pure, mind blowing sensation. I’m not sure how much time passes, but I slowly open my eyes to find him leaning over me. He’s not smiling, and his brooding eyes rake over my face with an intensity
that raises the hairs on my neck.
When I manage to pull my gaze from his, I look down. My robe is done up and tucked around my thighs, and my belt is secured around my waist.
Disappointment and relief twist through me, and I school my feature as I raise my eyes to his. While a large part of me had anticipated the next step would be Mason fucking me, a part of me had been reticent about ending my months-long dry spell with a one-night stand.
Having the decision firmly made for me wasn’t one I had foreseen, and I feel a little flustered as I lie there, with the stars I’ve just named winking above me.
“Time to go,” he says. He straightens and holds out his hand.
I place mine in his, but before I can stand he scoops me up, much like he had before, and places me back in the car via the driver’s side. I secure my seatbelt in silence, and a second later, he’s throwing the car in reverse.
He drives back with much the same speed and intensity as the outward journey had been, and I suspect that whatever demons are chasing him have been nowhere near quietened on our little danger-laden jaunt.
There are less lights on at the house, and I guess the party has wound down.
Mason parks the car in the garage, and once he turns off the engine, the silence becomes almost impossibly deafening. I stay in my seat, unsure what to do next.
Me, the woman who’s never lost for words and always ready with a snappy comeback according to family and best friend, is stumped as to how the next minutes will play out.
Mason thrusts open his door and steps out. Striding round the car, he opens mine and stands back, his arm thrown over the edge of the door, as if he doesn’t want to stand too close.
I get out of the car. My legs feel weak from the depleted adrenaline and from the two powerful orgasms whose residual tremors move through me when I move.
My eyes meet his and a small smile plays about his lips.
“Shall we dispense with the awkward goodbyes? I have a cold shower to get intimately acquainted with.”
My gaze drops to his crotch and sure enough, his cock is still hard and thick behind the fly of his jeans. My pussy clenches with renewed need, and the temptation to offer him relief hovers on my lips.
I stop myself before it spills out, frown at my disconcerting emotions around this man and try to think of one of my famous but now oddly elusive comebacks.
“Sure. Umm...have fun with that.”
God. Really?
A corner of his mouth crooks upward, but his eyes reflect a solemnity that cracks at something inside me. He watches me in silence and I can’t help fidgeting again.
The man has given me two mind blowing orgasms, and I can’t find one word to say to him? Thank you seems odd and flippant. And despite the craziness with which our meeting started, I can’t flip him off either, no matter how richly deserving I think it is for him scaring me to death on our drive out.
So I stand there, my eyes locked on his.
Slowly, he comes toward me and stops. He traces a finger down my cheek, and I catch a faint scent of my sex on his fingers.
“I wish I’d met you in another time,” he says with that strange look still lurking in his eyes.
“I’m not sure I can say the same.”
He looks at me for a long moment, then he nods. “Fair enough.”
He leans in close, brushes his mouth against my cheek. “But just so you know, your pussy is the sweetest thing I’ve tasted in a very long time,” he says in my ear. “I’m going to miss it.”
He walks away before I can draw breath, his long, lean body disappearing around the house.
I stay there, stunned, for almost five minutes before the sound of voices drifting from upstairs forces me to move.
Luckily, I don’t encounter anyone as I hurry to my room. Disrobing, I see clear imprints of fingers on my breasts and thighs.
Blushing, I slip on my nightie and hurry into bed. I fall asleep with my hand resting between my thighs, a sudden fear that unless I keep it there, the memory of what happened on that dead end road in Montauk will disappear forever.
I wake to brilliant sunshine and my best friend’s curious stare.
“We missed you last night. Where did you disappear to?” Bethany asks, her blue eyes full of curiosity as she steps forward and holds out the mug of coffee in her hand.
I take my time sitting up and arranging the pillows behind me to buy myself time to respond. Bethany and I used to share everything, but since she became one-half of the powerful Savage couple, I’ve begun to feel as if burdening her with my mundane life and problems isn’t fair on her. Plus, the man behind my disappearance from the party last night happens to be a good friend of Zach Savage’s. Which makes this whole thing a little tricky.
I take the coffee and blow on it before taking a sip.
Bethany perches on the edge of the bed and eyes me. “I know that look. You’re thinking of how much to tell me, aren’t you?” she accuses with narrowed eyes. “What the hell happened after you stormed out of the kitchen? You had me really worried.”
I shrug and try and smile my way through it. “Well, your Neanderthal friend found me.”
She frowns a little. “I don’t know him that well. I only met him one time before last night.”
“So you know nothing about him?” I ask nonchalantly, even though my stomach knots with more than a little tension.
“Very little, but Zach says he’s been through some issues. I only asked because I didn’t want him to come after you without...” She stops and I muster a grin.
“Without knowing that he’ll return alive?”
She grins. “Yeah, you were pretty pissed when you stormed out of the kitchen. Anyway, Zach said whatever he’s been through has made him a little...eccentric, but he wasn’t unpleasant to you, was he?”
I stifle a hysterical laugh. “No, he wasn’t unpleasant. A little judgmental, sure, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Liar, the hard throbbing between my thighs seems to echo. I shift in the bed and sip my drink as Bethany continues to eye me.
“You sure?”
I nod. “Seriously, he came to find me on the beach and apologized for his rudeness.”
“That’s all?”
“Pretty much.” I cringe inside at the barefaced lie and quickly change the subject. “How did the rest of the party go?”
She shrugged. “Okay. Everyone left happy, which is the most important thing, I guess. But,” she bounces on the bed, her eyes shining with happiness, “Zach and I finally agreed on a date for the wedding.”
“Oh?” I heave an inner sigh of relief that she’s dropped the subject of Mason and I. “And is Aunt Keely helping with the organization?” I ask with a genuine smile this time.
“Of course you are. The date’s April Thirtieth.”
“Wow, I thought for sure Savage would want to get you hitched by next weekend.”
She rolls her beautiful eyes. “He tried, believe me. But he’s learning he can’t always have his way.” I hide a smile and raise an eyebrow when she bites her lip, a worried look crossing her heart-stoppingly beautiful face.
“You think you can help me organize the wedding on top of the Indigo Lounge project?”
I send her a speaking glance. “You kidding? Have you forgotten what I do for a living?”
She laughs. “No, I know you can juggle projects in your sleep, but Zach can be demanding.”
“Girl, please, he may rule your world with thunder and lightning, but Zach Savage doesn’t scare me. Besides, I’ve hammered down most of the project details and expect everything to be done by the end of March so that leaves me a clear month to help you with your wedding once I’m back from the IL trip. I’ll be able to devote a clear month to helping you, babe. Don’t sweat it at all.”
Her face lights up with a smile so radiant, I can’t help but smile in return. But again, I feel that sharp ache in my chest that makes me feel like a bitch.
We talk wedding shop for anothe
r fifteen minutes before she leaves me alone to go get dressed for the day. I know she has a relaxing day of entertaining her remaining guests, but I’ve already made the excuse to return to New York under the pretext of work pressures. For a moment, I feel bad, but then I’m glad I’m not staying, because I don’t think I can face running into Mason Sinclair this morning, in case he hasn’t already left.
In the clarity of day, my behavior last night seems even more shocking. I’ve had one-night stands before, those which I’ve initiated, and those I’ve gone along with just for the hell of it.
Last night was different. The intensity of the whole thing is not something I’m familiar with. I want to think it’s my unfamiliarly long abstinence that made me react like I did, but I know it’s not true.
Something about his intensity drew a response from me that still makes me reel.
I sit in bed, sipping my coffee, then feel my face heat up as I recall his parting words.
Your pussy is the best thing I’ve tasted in a long time... So why hadn’t he gone a step further? I’m not ashamed to say that I’d wanted him to. That I’d have let him fuck me right there on top of his car.
He’d certainly wanted to. So why hadn’t I pushed?
I set my cup down and slowly absorb the answer I’ve known for a while. Because I like being in control. Every single one of the men I’ve slept with were carefully hand-picked because I like my sex one way—by being the one in control.
From the moment I’d set eyes on him, I knew Mason’s eyes wasn’t that sort of guy. I’d called him a Neanderthal just now. Deep down, I know it isn’t far from the truth. Behind all the demons lurking in his eyes was a deeply primitive guy who would push all the wrong buttons in me. Buttons I hadn’t let anyone push since I was nineteen.
No matter how hot the sex, I’d never give up control in bed. Or in any other aspect of my life.
Never again.