by Kim Karr
That’s when she lets her jaw go slack to take me deeper. And I fuck her mouth with an urgency I’ve never felt before.
“Maggie,” I groan.
My fingers twist and tangle in her hair.
“Shit,” I say, “oh, shit, this feels so good . . . I’m going to come, Maggie, I’m going to come.”
I prepare myself to pull out of the blissful cavern that is her mouth, but she doesn’t let me.
“Fuck. Yes.”
My thighs shake as my body starts to surge toward an explosion. Muscles tensing and nerves rapid-fire releasing, getting ready to come.
And then it happens.
I groan.
Wordless.
Desperate.
And I’m coming. Coming. Coming so hard.
Maggie takes everything I give her, sucking hard until I’m spent and softening in her mouth. Even then she’s not done. She places small, tender kisses in the most sensitive places. And her mouth is on my balls, licking, touching, driving me crazy and sending bolts of energy racing through me.
Never wanting this feeling to end, I watch her take everything I have, and I know I have never felt like this with any woman. Ever.
Moved in a way so unlike me, I tug her to her feet so I can tell her what doesn’t make too much sense. Shit, I’m not even sure it’s something a guy should say to a girl, but I do it anyway. “Fuck, Maggie,” I mutter, “I think I’m in lust with you.”
She laughs, but only softly, as if just enough to gauge my sincerity. I get it. It’s the barrier that doesn’t want to come down.
I slump back against the wall and look at her. My hair is damp with sweat, my body ablaze like it never has been before, and the fire in my eyes is the only way to prove my sincerity. “I mean it, Maggie.”
She leans closer. “I think I’m in lust with you too, Keen Masters.”
That’s when I swoop her into my arms. Actions are so much better than words. My hands feel her. My mouth finds hers. My tongue probes hers.
Then I taste myself on her lips, and smile. “Just so we’re clear,” I start, “that is the one and only time I will ever beg.”
Eyes half-lidded and super sexy, she looks at me. “Don’t count on it.”
And fuck, she’s probably right.
If she keeps looking at me like she is right now, I might be begging . . . a lot.
Maggie
It goes one of two ways—always.
Your hotel bed is either made of feathers and so comfortable you never want to get out of it, or it’s made of bricks and so lumpy you can’t wait for morning to just give you a reason to have to get up.
I honestly can’t tell you a freaking thing about the mattress right now. All I know is that sleeping with Keen Masters has to be the most comfortable way to spend the night.
So when the light streams through the curtains that must not have been closed all the way and my eyes pop open, my only worry is that I have overslept, and so has he.
Crap!
We can’t both be late for work.
A familiar, sexy voice breaks through my thoughts. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Blinking a few times, my eyes come into focus and land right on Keen in all his beautiful glory. God, I don’t believe in love, but I swear if I did, I might just think I am in love with him. Not just lust, but love.
And how insane is that?
It’s just . . . he’s so damn sexy. Everything about him. The way he talks, the way he walks, the way he fucks. Even the way he’s lying at the foot of the bed right now with his head resting on his hand and his eyes blazing with desire meant for me.
Sure, this thing between us has had its ups and downs.
I’m not delusional.
Ours isn’t the typical path to coupledom, or who knows—maybe it is.
Meeting. Fucking. Texting. Sexting. Him ghosting me. Him wooing me back. Me trying to fight him, fight this attraction, ignore this pull, and then finally giving in to it. It doesn’t make me weak. It makes me strong. And now we’re in this place that is undefined, but defined at the same time.
I’m happy with it.
With him.
And I’m going with it. I hope you get it. Understand that I really feel like I can trust him. Little tantrums like what happened our first night here aside, I just know we belong with one another.
My toes press into his side as I rise on my elbows and I let the sheet fall to reveal my naked breasts, because I know how much he likes that. “Good morning. Are we late?”
That wolfish grin shows itself. “It’s Sunday, sweetheart, remember?”
Such great news. I could jump up and down on the bed to celebrate, but I won’t. I think I’ll stay here and enjoy the view.
The week flew by. Between meetings, fashion shows, introducing Keen to my mother as more than my prospective boss, and meeting Winston—oh Winston, I rather loved him, he and my mother are perfect for each other—I forgot today is our last day here in New York. “Right. How could I forget that today is the day our little bubble is about to burst.”
His lids drop closed, and stay that way for a moment before he opens his eyes. “I hope that’s not true. I don’t think telling everyone will change a thing. Do you?”
I slowly shake my head, my words hoarse. “No, of course not. That’s not what I mean. I just mean it’s been you and me, and I like it like that.”
That sexy brow rises. “Is that going to change? Are we adding someone to the mix that I’m unaware of?”
I sit up a little higher to see him better. “Stop it. We already tried that, remember? And she liked me more than you?”
He slams his fist to his heart. “I’m wounded by the very memory.”
My lips twist and I can feel my eyes twinkle. “Keen, be serious. You know what I mean. It will just be different with you living next door, that’s all.”
“You got it all wrong, my little bedwrecker. I’m not going to be staying with Cam and Makayla when we return.”
I sit up even higher. “You’re not?”
He shakes his head. “Your mother is renting me her place. Didn’t she tell you?”
Shaking my head, I bury my smile by biting my lip. “No, she didn’t. When did you two discuss this?”
He looks at me with an amused smile. “Last night, when you and Winston walked off to have that private chat.”
I dig my toes farther into his side. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
A throaty chuckle fills the room, and he lies back on the bed, peering over at me. “Oh yeah, why?”
“That leaves me with nowhere to stay when I’m in LA.”
Keen weaves his fingers together and rests them on his chest. “I’m sure we could work something out.”
Sitting up all the way, I reach over and open the bedside drawer, pulling out a pack of condoms. “Something to do with these, perhaps?”
His blue eyes dance as they flit from the packets to my face. “About those.”
I gasp when he suddenly moves.
He twists onto his knees in a crouched position, his chin tucked and his gaze peering down at me. Predatory. As if at any second he is going to pounce and wrestle them from me. My breath catches. Tingles speed under the surface of my skin, and my stomach flips in delight. It’s so crazy what only the thought of him touching me does to me.
My hands tighten around the little foil packets. “What about these?”
His hungry eyes roam my face, absorbing my mouth, my lips, and then they move down a little lower, growing even hungrier. “Hand them over, Maggie.”
Looking right into those blazing eyes of his, I squeeze the last of what we have left in my fingers and close them tight. “No way. Let’s discuss the details of the trade first.”
Strength bunches in the muscles rippling along his shoulders as he moves a little closer.
I’m shocked when he abruptly grabs me by the ankles and drags me down to him, forcing me flat on the bed, and I scream out his name. “Keen!”
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From my view down here, I am staring up at his gorgeous face as he hovers over me. Playfully, he straddles my waist, and I can’t think. He stares at me and I can’t breathe. I can only feel desire coursing through my veins and I can only hear my heart pounding in my ears.
His nose is an inch from mine, his hands resting on either side of my head, but he is everywhere, all around me, as if he’s become a part of me without me even realizing it.
Then he smirks, all naughty and smug, and my eyes go wide when realization hits me. “Oh my God, Keen Masters, don’t you even think about it.”
Those eyes only grow more devious.
“Don’t you dare,” I beg.
He loves when I beg, but I’m not certain it is going to work this time.
“What?” he asks with feigned innocence, before his fingers begin to tap at the center of my chest.
I writhe beneath him and try to flail my limbs, but his legs cinch around my sides to keep my arms pinned to the bed.
“Hand it over.”
I shake my head no and still refuse to open my hand. Torture or not, I will not let him win. I will not.
His fingers start to move.
Oh my God, I can’t stand it. I’m so ticklish that soon I’m bucking like a wild stallion, trying to throw him from my body. “Keen, stop. Come on, stop. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Saying things like that is certainly not going to stop me.”
“Sorry!” I yell. “Sorry.” I make a hopeless attempt at flailing my arms once again.
Without mercy, he continues to hold me down and tickle me, and then somehow the naughty fiend manages to peel my hand open and take the packets from my grasp.
With his body still pinning me down, he holds the condoms over his head with his one free arm in victory. “You were saying?”
The push and pull.
Hard and soft.
The tease and the taunt.
I love the thrill of it.
A low whine rises from deep within my throat. “That I am certain we can strike a deal.”
A hushed chuckle tumbles from his mouth, so thick it is almost a pant, and then his expression softens as he rolls off me to fall beside me.
“What are you proposing?” I ask as I feel a change in the air.
He looks at me as if mesmerized. Suddenly, I’m mesmerized too, and I watch him. Watch everything. The way his tongue flicks out to wet his full lips. The way his eyes seem to be assessing me. That same nervous twitch in his hand I have seen before. I am so hyperaware of every inch of his body and the way it moves that I swear even his chest is rising and falling in perfect sync with mine.
Raising a cautious hand, he crumples the condom packets. “We haven’t talked about this, but I haven’t been with anyone but you since New Year’s.”
A fragmented sigh stutters from my lips as they part. Never have I felt anything better than being with him and never once since him did I consider being with another. And the fact that he hasn’t been with another woman—I can’t even tell you how that makes me feel. “Neither have I,” I respond.
His gaze captures mine before he reaches with his empty hand to push my hair away. “I’m clean.”
“Me too.” I swallow, knowing exactly where he’s going. “And I’m on the pill.”
He drags his fingertips down my cheek, sweeping along my jaw and tracing my lips, while raising his other hand. “Then we don’t need these,” he murmurs, the words rough, absolute.
“No, we don’t,” I whisper against the fingers he is fluttering along my bottom lip.
“Come here,” he says, tossing the condoms to the ground. “I want to kiss you. I want to fuck you. I want to do so much more.”
“I’m right here,” I tease. “Go ahead and have your wicked way with me, but be quick about it—we have to leave soon to catch our plane.”
“We’ll catch a later flight.”
“No, we won’t.”
Grabbing me by the hair, he slams his mouth to mine.
“Maggie.” He licks. “Maggie.” He sucks. “Maggie.” He blows hot breath against my skin. “What am I going to do with all this teasing of yours?”
Whimpering as our bodies grind together, I run my hands up his face and slip my fingers into his soft, thick hair to tug on it.
His groan is loud.
I hear myself whisper against his jaw. “I already told you: whatever you want, as long as we don’t miss the flight.”
His body trembles with unleashed power. “Say that first part again.”
“Whatever you want.”
His lips curve up into a smile. “Get up on your knees and elbows.”
As a self-proclaimed sexpot, he knows I’ve done just about everything under the sun. He also knows the one thing I have not. And yet I trust him. In fact, I want him to take every part of me, fuck every part of me with his beautiful cock, his talented fingers, and that lethal tongue of his. So without hesitation, I get up on my hands and knees knowing exactly what he’s going to do. And honestly, I’m equal parts nervous and thrilled.
He slips his fingers over my pussy, dragging the moisture up. “Oh fuck, you’re already so wet.”
I turn back to catch his gaze. “I always am when you touch me.”
“Oh, God, Maggie, feel what you do to me.” He rubs the head of his huge erection between my cheeks over and over.
And God help me, I call out, the feeling of his pulsing cock already so good.
Soon, he’s all I can feel everywhere. Dragging his cock from my pussy upward, circling the puckered area, rubbing his tip right there, driving me crazy.
Sensation overload strikes hard and I find myself quivering from head to toe.
“Keen,” I moan. The anticipation is killing me, the feel of him so close, but so far.
So possessively, he strokes a hand down my back and then around to my clit. His other hand is on his cock and he continues to tease me right there. “You sure about this?” he asks.
“Yes!” I cry out. “Yes.”
It’s only then that he finally reaches over to the night table. I hear a tear of the condom.
“I thought you said no more condoms?”
“Oh, baby, you have so much to learn.”
Normally, I’d be insulted. Sex has never been anything I needed a lesson on, but this . . . I admit, I only know what I’ve read, so I say nothing, just wait in anticipation while he rolls the condom on and reaches for the tube of lube we purchased yesterday.
Yes, we’ve discussed doing this over and over for the past three nights. Him wondering if I’m ready. Me telling him very confidently that I absolutely am, when in fact, I’m a little nervous.
It happens so fast—opening the tube, applying the lube, tossing the condom wrapper and the tube aside. And then he’s back, and he’s sweeping a hand up to one of my breasts, pinching the sensitive tip of my nipple, while his other hand works my clit. Arrows of pleasure go straight through me, all the way to the place his cocking is waiting to penetrate.
“Do it, Keen,” I gasp.
His answering murmur is followed by the movement of his hand from my breast back to his cock. A quick drag across my pussy one more time to assure we’re both wet enough and then he presses his thumb into me, something he’s done a few times over the past couple of days.
The anticipation is too much for me to wait any longer. “Keen, please,” I call out.
And then . . . and then . . . he does. His long, thick cock is pushing into me, and I can feel it, and it does in fact hurt a little bit, just like I’d read.
“Push back against me,” he murmurs.
I do.
“Oh fuck, that’s it, Maggie, that’s it.”
And that is it. Oh my God. His hand is on my clit. His cock right where I want it to be. “Oh my God, Keen!” I scream and scream and scream as he stretches me. It should be painful, and yet the pleasure is far too great.
His teeth scrape over my shoulder, up the nape of my neck, to my shoulde
r. Biting and sucking, groaning and hissing, this is the most primal act I have ever participated in, and never have I felt this way.
I need more.
Want more.
And as if he can read my mind, he grabs my hips and eases back, and then slowly thrusting inside me, he starts up a slow, steady rhythm.
Unable to stand the slow pace, I’m completely unraveling. I push my body back, trying to increase the pace. Slow and steady is not what I want. Hard and fast. Please give me hard and fast.
Refusing to increase his pace, his gentle manner is pissing me off.
I need more.
Want more.
“Please, Keen. Move. Harder. Faster!” I cry out.
And then finally he does. Keen pumps into me, hard and fast, and his hand reaches around my front again to stroke my clit. It doesn’t take much to get me off now. His fingertips roll my clit in time to his thrusts, and my pleasure is a spring coiling tight.
Oh God.
His teeth on my shoulder.
His fingers on my clit.
His cock is right where we’ve both talked about it being.
And then it’s like a bright light blinds me and I have to squeeze my eyes shut. I’m coming with a cry like that of a warrior going out to battle.
Hard and fast.
All-consuming.
Like nothing exists in this world but a brightness I can’t quite name.
And I’m climbing higher and higher and higher still.
My orgasm is brutal. It breaks me open and puts me back together, and I’m left panting, and blinking away stars.
When my body stills, Keen pulls completely out of me and flips me over, yanking me by the ankles to the edge of the bed.
“What are you doing?” I pant.
I see him yanking off his condom, but it’s a blur as to what he does with it because before I know it, he’s bare and his big, callused hands are spreading my thighs wide and he’s thrusting his cock into my pussy. His cock filling me in a way it never could in the other place. “I need to feel you like this. And I want to see you when you come.”
I lean back on the bed and thrust my hips forward. “And you call me crazy.”
He grins in that wicked way of his and holds tightly onto my thighs as he thrusts into me at the most relentless pace.