Wicked Player

by Lynn, Stacey

  She seemed almost hesitant, slowing drawing out her reply. “Thank you, John.”

  I stepped closer, slipping out of my shoes and shucking off my gray thermal. As soon as I got her undressed, I wanted our bodies pressed together. Keeping my pants on would ensure I didn’t move too quickly once they were.

  My dick was already pressed against the zipper of my black dress pants, craving its release and freedom into the heat of her.

  I adjusted myself as I stepped toward her. It was futile. I was too hard and rubbing myself only made things worse.

  “Stand up,” I said. I left enough space between us so I could take in every movement she made. She stood elegantly, like she’d spent years in ballet shoes. Her movements were lithe and smooth, a gracefulness born of years of training and all she’d done was stand the hell up.

  And I didn’t know that from seeing her a few times. Since she’d bombarded me in Brandon’s room, I’d spent more than a reasonable amount of time watching her old news stories online. She had enthralled Brandon. He was almost as excited to see her as he’d been to see me the first few times I walked into his room.

  Pretty wasn’t the word for Elizabeth either. Elegant and refined. She put excitement and joy and a light I rarely saw in people into the most mundane stories. No person should get excited or find so much laughter in a news segment about a VFW’s fish fry and steak night as Elizabeth did telling the story of the small town with some of the best eats in the state.

  I’d now spent days fantasizing about how red her ass would look when I got my hand on it for following me.

  She didn’t walk in with a notebook and pen in her hand, dying to get the story. She’d appeared embarrassed at being caught and instantly, she became friends with Brandon, asking about him and not his illness. Not how we knew each other. Sure we took some photos at his request. The two of us. The three of us, all happily snapped by Penny who stood in the corner with tears in her eyes.

  Some were happy ones.

  Most were because she’d recently gotten news that the possibility of Brandon ever leaving that ugly ass hospital room was dropping by the day.

  But now it was Elizabeth standing before me, and I had to get my shit together.

  To spank her properly, I needed to be fully engaged.

  “Turn around.” Her dress was skintight and as I assumed, a zipper appeared down the back of her dress.

  “What are you going to do?”

  I tsk’ed twice. She knew better than to ask. “Ah, whatever I want, little one. You ready?”

  “Yes. Whatever you’d like.”

  It was a good answer. Not only appropriate but sincere and it was all I wanted to hear. I closed the space between us and my hand went to her hair. It was long, straight tonight, and hung down her back like a sheet of gold. I wrapped my fist around it, tugged lightly so I could bend and press my lips to her jaw.

  She smelled like flowers and sunshine, pure beauty and joy. For not the first time I wondered if I could reveal myself to her.

  She had as much to lose as I did if our kink was made public. A woman who liked to be spanked and dominated? That wouldn’t go over so well for a female public figure, even if the double standard sucked ass. She’d be ridiculed and shamed and probably lose her job. I’d bring embarrassment to my charities but would probably gain a few thousand female followers on social media.

  My lips brushed against her jaw, went right to that soft, gentle flesh beneath her ear. Her breath hitched. She shivered. Even her lids fell closed as I touched her for the first time.

  Goddamn. This woman.

  A weekend with her in public and only one night of sex with her and already she was screwing with my head.

  As I peppered her alabaster throat with kisses, covering her with my scent, I reached up and dragged her zipper down. I moved slowly to draw out the anticipation. It was as much of an exercise in self-control for me.

  I wanted her naked. I wanted to sink inside of her and ride her hard and fast, pounding into her until she’d never forget me.

  I wanted to imprint on her pussy so she’d never be satisfied with another man taking her like only I could do. I wanted to fuck every good memory of Connor Hopkins out of her body and her brain.

  The suddenness of my territorial thoughts jolted me and my hand froze.

  “Is it stuck?” she asked.

  “No.” I tugged the zipper down the rest of the way, forgoing the exquisite pleasure of taking my time.

  Whatever my brain was thinking was definitely in line with my dick.

  I’d return to common sense and rationality after I left.

  With the zipper undone, I pushed her dress forward, helping her out of the long sleeves and once it drifted to the floor, I helped her step out of it, kicking it to the side.

  Her bra went next and while I’d wanted her splayed out on the bed, her mass of golden hair backdrop to the gray coverings, another idea came to mind.

  My hands curved over her shoulders and I carefully guided her forward until we were at the dresser at the far end of the room. The drawers held toys and implements and a few more ideas came to mind.

  Another time, I decided, before I could realize what I’d already decided.

  This woman would be mine. For much longer than most women were.

  “We’re at the dresser. Put your hands out and hold on.”

  She bent down and my breath left with a forceful whoosh of air as I caught sight of her tight, trim but nicely rounded ass sticking in the air.

  She hadn’t been wearing underwear beneath the dress. A disobedience, one I was thankful she was already in position to be punished for.

  I reached out, ran the tip of my finger through the crease of her ass. “You didn’t do what I said to,” I said quietly.

  I pressed my fingertip to her hidden opening, loving every single one of her tiny reactions to my touch. Her arms quivered and as I slid my finger farther forward to her opening, her head fell. “Ohhhh.”

  “Like that?” She was wet, practically dripping. I swirled my fingertip around her already swollen clit. Damn. Hot and soaking wet already.

  At least I knew thinking of and anticipating fucking me was as big of a turn on for her as it was me.

  Hot damn, she was perfect.

  I palmed her ass, warming it and preparing her. “How many spankings do you think you should have for not listening?”

  “I tried, John. I tried to listen.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  “Well, no sir. Thinking of what you were going to do to me tonight made me too wet.”

  My hand on her ass stilled. I stepped forward until my dick was at her backside. She was too short for me to fuck this way, but no matter. I didn’t bring her here to fuck her. Just to spank her and give her at least the first of her orgasms for the night.

  I’d fuck her on the bed on her knees, probably holding them up off the bed to make it easier for me.

  And better for her. I didn’t even have to wonder if she’d get off on it. Her rhythmic breathing was already at hyper-speed. I bet she’d come while I spanked her and got her off with my fingers, too.

  Yeah. Perfect.

  “Trying doesn’t mean listening though, does it? If I wanted you without panties on, I would have requested it. I spent all weekend, fantasizing about pulling down your underwear, maybe gagging you with them while I fucked your ass to muffle your screams. And now you’ve robbed me of doing something I would have liked.”

  While I spoke to her, I gathered moisture from her center and pressed against her puckered hole. She was trembling. Her breathing was already erratic and as I pressed my finger to her opening, she moaned as I slid inside.

  “See? You like the idea of me taking your ass don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  I slid my finger in farther, pulled it out slowly. Before she could ask for more, my palm was at her ass, spanking her once, then twice, two more times in rapid succession.

  Her small ass bounced a
nd turned red from my hand even as she gasped, arched for me. “Yes. Thank you,” she breathed.

  “You’re thanking me?”

  “It feels good.”

  “Hmm.” I rubbed her ass, soothed it, spent too much time trying to slow down my own racing heart.

  She has limits you don’t…

  I hadn’t meant to stand in a corner, listening to her conversation with Connor, but once I heard what they were talking about, I couldn’t help myself from eavesdropping. I should have stepped in sooner and stopped so she didn’t get hurt and he didn’t grab her but, as soon as he’d done that, shaking her to get her to listen, a red haze clouded my vision.

  He didn’t get to be an asshole and put his hands on her. Not when my hands had been on her and would be again.

  So yeah, I’d listened to more than I should have, but at the word limits my dick had gone hard and my mind wandered.

  I wasn’t into the ultra hard shit. I just liked being in control. But was it possible even sweet and little Elizabeth Hayes liked more than that? Tristan had assured me she’d be perfect for me, but if this was all we did, what was poor Connor missing out on with his new woman?

  Poor thing. I almost felt sorry for the asshole, and more than once over the weekend I wanted to call Tristan and demand he didn’t let Elizabeth see Connor.

  But that could be a mistake.

  After how she was once she showed up at the press conference, I figured I didn’t have anything to worry about.

  She’d stood in the back looking broken and sad. She’d looked like she was paying attention, but I’d bet a million bucks she didn’t hear a damn word I said, but what she didn’t do, was go to Connor and take him up on his offer. And when I was done, all the questions asked and the night winding down, she’d stepped out of the room and I hadn’t seen her since.

  For three whole days, I’d thought about her ass. Stripping her out of a sexy lace thong or underwear and wondering what color it would be and now she’d gone and ruined that.

  I spanked her again, teased her clit and her ass with my finger. I worked in slowly to her tight opening. So damn tight I had to bite back a groan as I worked on stretching her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll listen next time.”

  “I wanted to take your ass tonight,” I said again, pressing two fingers into her. “I’d been thinking of this and you want it, don’t you?” She was sweating and panting. She was soaking wet and her clit was swollen. I didn’t need any words of hers to know she was the kind of girl who loved a good ass-fucking.

  Lucky, lucky me.

  “Yes. Please.”

  I scissored my fingers and at her next pleasured whimper, I pulled my hand out of her ass, spanked it a few more times. “Too bad. Girls who don’t listen don’t get what they want.”

  I went to the drawer next to her and slid it open. I yanked off the wrapper on a butt plug instead. Not a small one, not one as nearly as big as I was, but with her ass stuffed, she’d be mighty full and maybe slightly in pain by the time I slammed inside of her.

  My dick jumped at the thought.

  I unwrapped the plug, simple black and made with soft material. I lubed it up generously and readied her body for it. “I’m going to put this plug inside you. When’s the last time you had something in here?”

  It was more curiosity than safety. Had Connor taken her this way?

  “Um.”

  She hesitated and I grabbed her chin, pulled her back so I could see her face. “When?”

  “Two nights ago,” she whispered. “I did it. Thinking of you.”

  Jesus. Dirty, naughty little girl. My heart almost burst it was so pleased with her admission. My teeth almost broke from clamping them together. She was utterly perfect. “Good,” I said, for lack of saying anything else. “Then you’ll like this.”

  If she’d been stretched recently, this would be easier. I’d already stretched her so I pressed the tip of the plug against her, slowly pushed it in, giving her little time to adjust.

  Her sounds and moans were enough and I paused when her shoulders tensed, just for a moment so she could breathe. While I put the plug in her with one hand, my other snaked around to her front and rubbed her hot and swollen clit.

  “You going to come?” I asked. I rubbed her clit gently, taking her mind off the plug.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Not yet,” I smacked her clit and she jumped. At the movement, the rest of the plug slammed inside of her so her next noise was mixed with pain and pleasure.

  Beautiful.

  “Stand up.” I placed my hands at her waist and turned her around. Her cheeks were flushed. So was her chest. Her nipples were exquisite hardened nubs. I pinched them and loved the sound of her gasp. Tugging her lightly toward me with my fingers at her nipples, she collapsed against my chest.

  I slammed my mouth to hers before she knew what to expect and she opened immediately.

  God fucking damn. How was I ever going to walk away from her?

  Twelve

  Elizabeth

  Good God. I took his kiss as he invaded my mouth without preamble. My nipples ached, my ass was sore and tender and so full.

  I was ready to come and as he continued kissing me, his hands at my jaw and my cheeks holding me to him, I rolled my hips into him, seeking friction.

  I doubted I even needed it.

  If he squeezed my nipples once more or tapped my clit, I would shatter and I wouldn’t care about trying to pick up the pieces.

  This man was magnificent. Stunning in his bossiness and commands and so damn gentle at the same time.

  I’d practically jumped with glee when Tristan called me earlier. At first, I’d hesitated, worried it’d be at Connor’s request but as soon as Tristan said, “le garçon with the blindfold wants you again,” my heart leaped to my chest.

  This was dangerous, loving what he did to me so much without knowing anything about him.

  I also didn’t care.

  After Connor, after the weekend, I didn’t care who this man was as long as he fucked me harder and longer and better than Connor ever did.

  It’d be enough to move on from him forever and I still hadn’t forgotten Gage’s words.

  Man’s a selfish asshole, not getting what he needs and screwing over two women. You deserve better. Make sure you get it.

  It was exactly what I’d needed to hear.

  “Stop,” John said. His hand went to my shoulder and he pushed me off him, keeping a hand on me so I didn’t stumble. “Are you trying to come before I say you can?”

  “Please,” I replied. I couldn’t admit the truth. I wouldn’t. I’d been so turned on after the phone call and the thought of being with him again, I’d had to fight against making myself masturbate before I arrived.

  “I don’t think you should be able to come quite yet if you didn’t listen to me.”

  His voice had a glint of teasing. I could imagine full, thick lips cracking into a smile as he watched me writhe in front of him. So damn horny. Soaking wet.

  His hand went to my shoulder and he pressed down gently. He didn’t need to instruct me. I dropped to my knees, holding onto his hips and then his legs for balance as I went down.

  The clink of a belt echoed in my ears. The rustle of a button and whisk of a zipper before the soft falling of his pants in front of me. He cupped the back of my head and then the tip of him was at my mouth. “Open. Take me. If you make it good enough, then maybe I’ll let you come.”

  Oh God. I’d probably come while I blew him and then what would happen? Would it be over before we had sex?

  I whimpered and wrapped my hand around him.

  God. He was gorgeous. Veined and long and thick. Thank goodness for the plug. He’d ache in my ass whenever he took it.

  My mouth opened and I slid my tongue over his tip getting him nice and wet. I slid my hand up and down his length, getting the feel of him, reveling in his size and his heat. The heavy weight in my hands before I took him
farther in my mouth.

  He wanted me to make it good for him? I’d suck his brains out through his dick if he asked.

  I went to work, taking him as deep as I could, then further, moving slowly, adjusting to his size and the instant push and pull of his hips, urging me on.

  His fingers dug into my hair, pulled and yanked but he allowed me some control.

  “Fuck. Yes. So good, little one. Take my cock. Suck harder.”

  I groaned. His filthy talk hit me in heated places. He swelled in my mouth, and my hand went to his balls to feel them hard and pulled tight.

  I squeezed and rolled them in my hand.

  His hand at the back of my head tightened and he held me still. He thrust his cock in and out, groaning and dirty talking to me like he didn’t care about me at all. The way he held me told me different.

  He pulled out and his hands were at my shoulders, helping me to my feet.

  “On the bed. Hands and knees.”

  Yes. I scrambled into position and then he was there, at my back his chest covering my small frame in a way that felt warm and protective and sexy all at once. The hair on his chest brushed over my back, his hand went to my hair, swiping it off to the side.

  There was the crinkle of foil, the pause, and then he was there, sliding into me.

  And between him and the plug, it hurt. My body stretched around him and I groaned from the weight of all of him as he bottomed out inside me.

  “Cheek to the bed and keep your hands by your head.”

  My fingers curled into the mattress as he slid out once and slammed back inside of me. His hands went to my hips, held me still while he took over.

  It didn’t take much. Between my blow job and the plug and the ferocity in which he was pounding in and out of me, my orgasm exploded. I dug my fingers into the bed and made sounds I’d never known I could make as my climax came so fast and hard, it felt like it had the power to break me in two.

  “Oh God,” I said as I came down, but he didn’t let up.

  His hand slid to my front, pressed against my clit, rubbed frantically while he bent over me and growled. “Again. Keep coming and clamping on my dick until I’m done with you.”