by Amy Davies
I sit and take in her body. The leather skirt does fucking wonders for her shapely arse. It fits it like a glove, like it was made just for her body. The way the little teasing slit gives me a view of more skin I want to taste... I lick my lips and let my gaze run up over her bare back, seeing the tattooed words she has there.
My curiosity spikes when I read what it says. My gaze snaps up to her face when she turns and walks over to me. Jamie stops in front of me and holds my drink out for me to take. I do just that, but I take hers also. She frowns down at me, but I keep my face neutral. I have a feeling this tattooed quote means something.
Shifting to the edge of the sofa, I grip her hips and turn her away from me, so I can read what the quote says. The feel of her warm, silky skin under my rough, calloused hands makes my dick take note of how soft she feels. God, I wanna run my hands all over her body, and my fucking tongue.
My gaze lands on the striking bold font that marks her back. I smile at the words staring back at me. They are rightfully her.
Sky above me.
Earth below me.
Fire within me.
Her breathing picks up when I run my finger over each word. Her skin pebbles with goose bumps, and I can't stop from smiling at her reaction to me. Yeah, she can deny all she fucking wants, but she wants me just as bad as I want her. I will get her, in every way possible. Jamie London is slowly sliding beneath my skin. I’m not sure if I’m bothered by it or not, yet.
I’ve never wanted an old lady, but I loved seeing how my father was with my mother. Yet for some reason, I loved the free pussy instead. My mum always told me I was lazy when it came to girls, and that it would take a strong, beautiful woman to bring me to my knees. Fuck, maybe she was right. Looking at this strong, beautiful woman before me, she looks like she could have the power to tame me.
“Dyson,” she whispers. Her breathing hitches when my thumbs slip inside the waistband of her leather skirt. Yeah, I got her.
I slide my hands down over the outside of her thighs, until I reach the bottom of her skirt. The contrast been the leather and her skin makes my cock twitch in my jeans. My thumb slides between the material and her flesh, then moves up. The skirt rides up with my hands.
Inch by inch, the leather slides up, giving me more of her bare skin to look at. I stop as I reach her arse cheeks. The curve of the flesh is killing me, begging to be bitten or licked, or hell, both. So I do just that. I run my tongue just under the curve of the sexiest arse cheek I have ever been up close and personal with.
“Oh God,” she whimpers, and I have barely touched her. I swipe my tongue over the other curve and push the material up and over. Her arse cheeks sit there, giving me the come-hither look, and who the fuck am I to refuse such a request. I push her arse cheeks together, running my tongue up between them, leaving a wet trail in my wake. My cock is screaming in my jeans, begging to be freed and let loose on this fine specimen of a woman.
“Need to taste you, babe.” I spin her around, not waiting for a reply. The tiny scrap of red lace beckons me to the place I wanna be. I move in, swift and directly. I bury my nose in the apex of her thighs, breathing in her scent.
“Dyson. Eat me.” Now there is no way in hell I’m going to turn this woman down when she demands something as sexy as ‘eat me’. Call me Alice, staring at the ’eat me' sign and being unable to resist.
I slide my finger between her skin and the lace and move the material to the side.
Holy fucking shit balls. She is completely bare. I look up at her and smirk, loving the way I’m making her feel. Her eyes are filled with lust and want. Want for me to eat her delicious-looking pussy.
“Fuck, baby, you smell amazing.” I grip the thin material of her thong and pull, causing the thin strip to snap in my hands. She gasps from the action, and I waste no more time waiting. I open my mouth and run my tongue up from her pussy, right up to her clit, taking in as much of her flavour as I can.
“God, you taste like fucking heaven. All sweet and salty. Perfect combination.” I dive back in, sucking her clit into my mouth, my tongue rolling around the tight, little, stiff bud. I slide one arm around her waist, supporting her.
“Oh God, Wes. Yes.” I suck harder, before using her juices to slide one finger in first.
Son of a bitch.
I almost come in my jeans from how amazing she feels wrapped around my finger. I can only imagine how she’ll feel smothering my cock when I slam into her over and over again.
The sound of her arousal echoes around the room, making me fuck her harder. I want her to come before I slide my cock into her. I’ve been told I’m well hung, but they don’t need to tell me jack shit; I know I’m hung like a fucking horse.
“Yes, there,” she moans when I crook my finger, hitting that sweet spot inside her. It doesn’t take many strokes until she’s coming all over my hand, her juices running down into my palm, her pussy pulling my fingers deeper.
I don’t wait for her to come down from her high and bitch me out. I spin us, so she is laying on the sofa. I slide my cut off my shoulders and lay it on the side of the sofa, then grip the back of my t-shirt and pull it over my head. She watches me from her position, still riding her post orgasm high. Her skirt is still hiked up above her hips.
“I want you bare, but for now, we’ll use a rubber. Get checked out, baby.” I pull a condom from my jeans, opening it before sliding it over my shaft. I rest one knee on the sofa and move her leg, so it’s hanging over my arm. I move closer, lining up my cock at her dripping pussy. I feel like I’m stretching to get to her, so I grip her hips and pull her closer to the edge of the sofa, before lining myself back up and slamming into her.
“WESLEY.” She screams my name and it is pure fucking music to my ears. I slam into her over and over again, gripping her hips hard, knowing I will leave my mark on her.
“Harder. Fuck me harder—like you mean it.” Like I mean it! What the fuck is that supposed to mean? But I listen to the little minx and pound into her. I hike her leg up higher, dropping it on my shoulder. She takes me deeper in this position.
“Oh fuck, babe,” I growl. “So fucking good… Never had it this good before.”
“And that’s saying something,” she cries out as I slam in.
“Bitch,” I mutter.
“Wanker,” she says, her voice husky from all the deep moaning she’s been doing. I smile down at her, and our eyes connect. My heart skips, but I keep my face neutral, keeping up my pace.
My hips are slamming into hers, skin on skin. She feels fucking amazing. She is under me, just where she belongs, but I can see she wants to move. She keeps adjusting her place on the sofa.
I stop my movements, making her frown at me. “Just gonna move, babe. I want you to ride me.” I pull out and sit on the sofa, dragging her over and onto me. She sits on my naked thighs, and I can feel the heat from her pussy. Even her juices are dripping onto my skin. And fuck, I love that. I’m the bloke who is making her hot, wet and dripping. When we go downstairs, she’ll be leaving with her cum dripping from her pussy, and I’ll know it was me who made her come.
I sit and watch as she slides a small zip down under her arm, before removing her little black top. Her tits are beyond phenomenal, firm and all fucking real. There is no fakeness with Jamie.
I lift both hands and cup her breasts, loving the weight of them in my palms. Her nipples are stiff and crying out to be sucked, licked and bitten. I get the feeling Jamie likes it rough. I pull on her nipple, making her cry out.
“You like a bit of pain, babe?” She nods and lifts both hands to my chest, then, shocking the shit out of me, she drags her nails down my pecs and over my stomach, leaving eight red scratch marks down my body.
She fucking marked me.
Jamie
His face is fucking priceless when he sees the marks I’ve left on his chest. I’m pretty damn proud of myself for that. The tattoo on his chest is a work of art. A clock in the centre of his chest with two doves on ei
ther side and roses around the bottom.
I smirk at him, before leaning forward and kissing some of the marks. I kiss over his collarbone, his neck, making my way to his lips. I love the way his lips feel against mine. His light stubble rubs against my skin in the most delicious way.
My lips meet his and I get lost in the kiss. I have dreamt for years of kissing this man, the man who starred in my youthful dreams. Until that night. I leave his mouth and lay kisses over his jaw, down to his neck.
Most people would think a rape victim should be rocking in a corner, refusing to live their lives. But come the fuck on, we are women and we are strong. We should never let a man beat us. The time to kneel and cower unwillingly is over.
Everyone responds in different ways. We all cope how we cope.
Me, I stand up for myself and fellow women. We are the power in the world; without us, there wouldn’t be a next generation.
“Hey, where did you go?” Dyson’s voice breaks my thoughts, and I lift my head to look at him. I blink a few times and smile at him.
“Nowhere. I’m here.” His frown tells me he isn’t convinced.
I slide back and forth over his dick, making it glide between my pussy lips, using my juices to ease the motion. The head of his cock hits my clit, which is pulsing with need.
“Shit, that feels good, but not as good as when I’m inside you.” He slaps my arse cheeks, making me yelp at the sting but grind down harder. A smirk appears on his handsome face. His hand connects with my fleshy globe again, and I moan out his name.
“My girl likes that, huh?” I nod and rise up on my knees. Our gazes lock as I move my hand down to grip his shaft and line it up at my entrance. I slowly lower myself, keeping my eyes on Wesley. His beautiful green eyes bore into me like he’s searching for something deep inside me.
I sink all the way down. He bottoms out, and I moan loudly. So does he.
“Fucking hell, woman. You feel amazing. All wet, warm and smooth. Even though I wanna drag this out and spend the rest of the night buried in this sweet heaven, I need you to move. I need you to ride the hell out of my cock right now. The poor boy is begging to come, up all inside of this sweet pussy.” I do what he says, and I start moving.
Back and forth, slow at first, but then I pick up speed when I feel the building of my orgasm. His cock hits all the right places in this position. I have always loved coming while on top. It’s the best and quickest way to make me come.
I lean back, placing my hands on his thighs, and jerk my hips back and forth. His jaw is tight, and his eyes are closed. He looks like pure sex with his head pushed back into the couch, his neck stretching, looking ready to be bitten.
I move forward and run my tongue up the column of his neck, kissing his jaw, before going back down and biting his neck. He moans beneath me, slapping both of my arse cheeks. I moan and grind down on his cock again, forcing his hands to grip my arse tighter, no doubt leaving bruises.
“Bitch, did you just bite me?”
“Yeah, well, you are marking my arse cheek, wanker,” I cry out, keeping up my movements. He feels so good inside of me, the best I have ever had, but I won't add to his ego just yet. A man like Dyson can get as much pussy as he wants. He doesn't need me telling him how good he is in bed; he already has a mass of women lining up to try him out and tell him.
“Faster, baby,” he says between clenched teeth. If he grinds his teeth any harder, he’ll crack a tooth, but I do as he asks. I rest my hands on his shoulders and ride the fuck out of him. Our breathing picks up as we both chase our impending climax.
Sweat covers our bodies, and the sweet scent of sex fills my office. I know I will be smelling it for days, a daily reminder of what we are doing here. The sounds of our heavy breathing bounce around the room. Thank fuck the music is still playing downstairs, otherwise I can only imagine Andrew bursting through the door, thinking Wes is strangling me.
“Oh God. Yes,” I pant out as my orgasm builds. The tightening of my muscles feels like total fucking bliss that I know will take over my body in a matter of seconds.
“Come, baby. Come all over me. This will be the only time you come over my cock while covered with a condom. Bare from now on. Fuck me, you feel good.”
“That's what you think,” I cry out, and my body locks up as the cosmic bliss rages through my body.
“YES,” I scream through the lasting climax.
“Hell fucking yes, baby. Chase it—take it.” He slaps my arse again, and my pussy tightens even more.
“FUCK,” Wes growls, stilling below me. I collapse forward, resting my head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around me.
I feel like fucking jelly. This man has literally left me boneless. No other man has ever managed to do that. I think Wesley Taylor will be the death of me.
Death by orgasm; not a bad way to go, I suppose.
“Fuck me, Jamie. You’ve rendered me unmoveable, babe.” He chuckles, his breath fanning my naked shoulder. I kiss his shoulder, relishing in the feel of this man wrapped around me.
His hands start to move up and down my back, and I shiver. This is way too intimate for me at the moment. Unwrapping myself from him, I climb off his lap. I look around for my thong, but I can’t see it, so I pull my skirt down. I take it I’m going full commando for the rest of the night. Adjusting my top, I tuck my breasts back in.
Unable to look at Dyson as I get situated, I sit on my desk chair and slide my feet back into my killer boots. Wesley is looking at me; I can feel his stare, but I can't handle how he made me feel right now.
I know he’s said a few times that I’m his, or I’m the best he has ever had, but I know how MC’s work. He’s just saying that shit. He doesn't mean anything he’s saying to me. I have no doubt he says it to all the women he beds.
Despite the connection between us, the tame flame that was there years ago is igniting to a full blaze now.
“What’s happened here, babe?” I hear him stand and get dressed. Still, I keep my back to him, flipping through my camera feeds in the pub. My heart is racing for this man, and my body is buzzing with need again.
I’m Jamie fucking London, and I will never let a man control me again, body or mind. So why the fuck does Wes have so much power over the way my body and mind feels.
Because you have always wanted this man.
The words bounce around my head.
“Jamie.” He says my name again. This time I turn slowly to face him. He’s frowning as he walks over to me. I swallow hard, making sure he sees the tough as nails Jamie, not the Jamie who is running around my head, screaming like Kevin McCallister in Home Alone.
“Dyson.”
“Wes, or Wesley. You don’t call me Dyson when it’s just the two of us.” I huff and go to turn back to the screens, but he stops me with his hands on the arms of my chair, caging me in. I look up into his eyes, forcing myself not to break the connection first. I need to stay strong.
“Fine. Wes.” He just looks at me, his gaze bouncing between my eyes. “What?”
“Don’t turn into a bitch. You don’t get to fucking ruin what just happened. That was good, babe—hell, not just good but fucking epic sex.”
“Exactly, Wes, just sex.” I shrug and try to turn my chair away from him. His green eyes are penetrating my soul, and I don’t like it. Not yet anyway.
“Just sex? Is that what this was? I thought we had something deeper building than that. Fucking hell.” He steps away and starts pacing in front of me, running his hands through his beautiful hair. Fuck, why didn’t I do that when we were fucking? Maybe next time.
Fuck next time.
I shake my head, thinking how much I want to have this man inside me again. But I don’t want to get hurt. I refuse to let a man hurt me again.
“What more do you want, Wesley? You can’t settle down. You won’t settle down. Like I said earlier, you like variety.”
“Bullshit, and you know it. You don’t know me. I used to like a variety of women, yes, but
, baby, with you in my bed alone… I get to have every single fucking flavour out there. That is what I need and fucking want. So quit telling me what I want or fucking need.” His voice gets louder the longer his speech goes on.
“So what, you want us to be in a relationship? For me to be your old lady or something?” I laugh and use the heels of my boots to push my chair back from him, needing distance. He straightens up, reminding me of his true height.
“One day, yes. We can go slow and see where we end up.” I scoff. “What, you don’t want that with me? I’m not good enough for tough Jamie-fucking-London, huh?”
“Clearly we don’t know each other if you think that of me, Wes.”
“Then fucking let me get to know you,” he roars. His booming voice would make most women cower, but not me. Hell fucking no.
What have I got to lose in letting this man into my life, heart and bed? A helluva lot.
Jump. Try it on. Aunt Trudy’s voice echoes around my head.
“Okay, Wes. We try this, but you even think about another woman, or look at another woman, and I can tell you now that Suede and Lola will be burying their only son. You hear me, handsome?” I stand up from my chair and walk over to the small kitchenette I have in the office. I use the mirror I added to sort out my just fucked hair. It was down and looking all curly and shit, now it looks like a rat’s nest.
I tame the curls and pick up a large black hair-tie and put my hair up into a sexy, messy bun. Moving closer to the mirror, I drag my fingers under my eyes, clearing the mascara that had smudged. My eyes have an extra smoky look to them now.
I have no doubt people will know what we have done up here. I smirk, thinking about all those bitches who wanted him downstairs. I straighten my spine and look at Wes in the mirror. He’s standing there, pulling his cut over his huge shoulders.
This man is mine—for now, anyway. We don’t know how long will last, but I’m gonna jump in and try him on for size, and maybe, just maybe, he will be the perfect fit for me. Just like I used to think all those years ago.