Carnal Ecstasy (4 page)

She had the darkest taste of any woman. The darkest, sweetest, most-intoxicating taste and he didn’t know that he’d be able to ever take another pussy without thinking of, without wanting this one.

He licked her softly from stem to stern and all the way up her body. Her eyes were heavy lidded and she looked content as a kitten and as he bent to kiss the sensitive underside of her ear, he smiled at the thought. A sex kitten.
His
sex kitten, learning from him, following his lead, eating out of his hand of naughty knowledge.

“Why don’t we hit that shower?” he suggested, crawling from her body and helping her up.

* * * * *

“Oh yeah, Carrie. Good girl.”

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Dallon dropped his head back against the shower wall. The water was turning lukewarm, but he didn’t really give a shit. The hot mouth sucking his cock complete with virgin enthusiasm drove everything from his mind but what her sweet little tongue was doing.

He had a loose, easy grip on her wet, tangled hair and did his best to guide her, but was quite fucking enjoying letting her get used to him. “You don’t have to be gentle, kitten.”

And she wasn’t. She took his balls, one at a time, sucking, pulled them down from his body and then let them pop out of her mouth. Her teeth took sharp little bites of his cock, and her tongue…damn, her sexy tongue teased the hell out of the head, driving him up on his toes with the tip embedded in the little slit.

He wondered what she’d do if he asked her to rim his ass. He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her between his legs, down on her knees. She’d do it. If he asked her she’d do it. She was exploring and didn’t know her own limits yet… “Damn, girl.”

She looked up and smiled at him. His cock shaft stretched her lips wide but there was a smile in her eyes. “Get up, c’mon.”

His dick screamed at him but he ignored the pain. He didn’t want to lose it his first time with her like this. It never mattered for shit before, but with her it mattered a whole hell of a lot. He wanted it in his bed.

Reluctantly she let him tug her up and he thrust his tongue in her mouth in a hard, smashing kiss. He felt the cold chill of the water and turned it off, stepping out of the shower stall with her in tow.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He dried his hair. “Nope. You were perfect.”

“You made me stop.” She bent forward and wrapped the towel he gave her around her hair like a turban. He never quite understood how to do that.

“Not because of anything you did wrong, kitten.”

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In his bedroom, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt. She followed and it hit him that she didn’t have a change of clothes. She’d be wearing one of his shirts. She didn’t have a toothbrush either or… “You didn’t bring anything with you when you came last night, did you?”

“No. I didn’t think you’d… I didn’t think I’d be staying.” She sat naked on the end of his bed, unfurled the towel and held it in her lap. Her hair was a riotous mess of curls. How odd he hadn’t noticed those before. She’d had straight hair when he first met her and when she came to him last night. “Yeah, I use a straightener. My mother always said curly hair would make men have untoward thoughts about me.”

What a fucking crock. “Maybe she was right. I have very untoward thoughts about you right now, but then I had those thoughts when I thought your hair was straight, so nah. It’s got nothing to do with the curls.”

He tossed her a shirt from the dresser. “Thanks. I’m a little embarrassed.”

“Why?”

She shrugged and put the shirt on. He was irritated to see her tits disappear behind the gray material. Her thighs were pressed together all too tightly and the blush that stained her cheeks pissed him off. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to act. I didn’t even think you’d want me, much less let me stay the night. I didn’t think to pack an overnight bag and…” She shrugged again.

“Do you want to go home?”

Her eyes snapped up to his face and she shook her head. “No.”

“Then don’t feel bad about not having anything to wear. Don’t feel bad about anything, least of all coming here and laying it out to me about what you wanted.” He knelt in front of her, slid his hands up her thighs, unable to keep from touching her, from reaching for that piece of heaven she was hiding from him right then. “You’re strong and have a ton of courage. I didn’t want you here last night. I wanted you to leave, but not because I didn’t want you. I wanted you too much and knew that if we 28

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started we weren’t gonna stop for a few days. You showed up though, you offered yourself to me and there was no way I could or would say no.”

“Do you have a lot of women spend the night?”

Honesty or another little white lie? “Sometimes, but it’s usually because they’re too drunk and we just fall out after sex.”

“Do they bring overnight bags?”

She was so cute, this woman. So unsure of herself, of what the right thing to do or say was, but so damn cute. “No, kitten, they don’t. They just put on whatever they wore the night before and leave. Often before I wake up.”

“Do you ever see them again?”

Damn, nothing like straight and to the point. “No.”

“Okay.”

He saw how her eyes dimmed at that one word and though he didn’t want to, couldn’t give her any kind of hope that he’d be seeing her after today, he didn’t like to be the cause of her feeling rejected. “Don’t. Don’t compare yourself to them. There’s a lot you don’t know, a lot you haven’t done. We’re not finished and you’re not leaving yet.”

And just like that, she smiled. It was small but reached her eyes. It was enough.

“Oh. What are we going to do?”

Did she want the list in alphabetical order? Ass-fucking. Bondage. Cock-sucking.

Defilement. Eat… “We’re going to have breakfast. C’mon. You’re gonna need your strength.”

She stood when he took her hand. The shirt fell to just below her ass and that shirt was now his favorite. Anytime he looked at it, he’d see her. Hot damn.

“I’ve never had a man make breakfast for me before.”

“I’m not making breakfast. That’s Vinter’s specialty.”

“Vinter?”

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“One of the other owners of the bar. He makes killer breakfast.”

“What do you cook?”

“I don’t. I make drinks.” He grinned. “I can make awesome coffee too.”

“Awesome coffee? Is that code for something?”

Dallon laughed. “No. A few years ago, I worked as a barista in a little coffee dive and learned how to make it.”

“You can make the lattes and cappuccinos and all?”

“I can. Want one?”

“I’ve never had one.”

He had to grind his teeth to keep from yelling. Much as he understood what it was like to be sheltered and not allowed to experience anything of the world, he was a little pissed at the fact she’d never tasted something as simple as a latte. Why did parents do that? Hers, his. What was the point? There was no sheltering from evil but from life itself and it really grated on his nerves. “I’m sorry.”

No wonder she was willing to lay it all out. No wonder she was open to stripping down and lying back on a pool table. She’d been told “No” all her life and she was finally in a position to say yes. He just…she needed someone to guide her, watch out for her as she took these chances, made these choices.

In the eyes of reality, she was incredibly naïve. She was strong, had her own mind, her own thoughts, but she was naïve.

At the same time, he didn’t know anyone else he trusted enough, other than himself, to introduce her to, who he would feel comfortable seeing her with. She could make her choices about what she liked and wanted to experiment with, but there had to be someone, male or female, there for her who knew the ways of the real world, because when the good, religious girls fell, they fell hard.

And speaking of hard…

“You’re lost in thought. Is something wrong?”

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“No. Let’s get you your first latte, okay?”

“Okay.”

She was eager, willing, hungry for life. He found it refreshing and incredibly appealing. The women he knew, the men as well, including himself, were jaded, cynical, unbelieving. Carrie though, she was taking it all in for the first time really and he couldn’t deny that her vitality could, would and likely already was rubbing off on him. Not to mention, she was hot as fire when he touched her, so responsive, her eyes unable to hide her feelings, thoughts.

He led her downstairs to the bar and settled her on a stool, doing his damnedest to ignore the pool table and the empty beer bottle from the night before. He wanted to take her on the table right then. He wanted to bend her over the side and watch his t-shirt slide up over her ass. He wanted to slam his dick so deep inside her that she clawed the felt of the table. Instead he said, “I’ll be right back. Need to get some stuff from the kitchen.”

“Sure.”

He slammed through the door and straight into the walk-in freezer. He wanted her so bad his skin was on fire and the freezing-cold temperatures didn’t do anything at all to lessen the hardness constricting his movements and making his jeans uncomfortably tight.

There was nothing he needed from the kitchen. The milk, the syrups, the espresso, the whipped cream…everything was under the bar. He just had to walk away from her for a few minutes, walk away from the temptation she posed. When he had himself under some semblance of control, he went back to her.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I’ve got this. Why don’t you talk to me? Tell me something about you.”

“Well, I’m not sure what you want to know. Umm… I’m adopted. I don’t know why my birth parents gave me up, but they did. I was just an infant. My adoptive 31

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parents gave me everything I needed and I know they love me in their own way. I just… I’m different, you know, and they’ve never wanted to see it.”

He knew. Boy, did he know. “Yeah.”

“I always had more questions than they or their church had answers for, but they were my only family and so I tried to do what I thought would make them happy. I learned in the last ten years or so that what makes them happy doesn’t do anything for me.”

“Where’d you fall off the path of righteousness?”

“I started wandering off it when I was in college and then continued after I graduated. I’m thirty years old and am living on my own for the first time without any kind of supervision. I got lost and entered the line to hell when I met you yesterday.”

He grinned. “Glad I found you then.”

He scooped some espresso beans into the grinder. It was a new, very swanky burr grinder. He didn’t make coffee drinks for the bar patrons unless someone asked, but he loved them. Usually the stronger the better. He just didn’t like straight coffee. Vinter was always giving him shit about it too. Said he was a pansy ass for drinking them.

From the grinder, he filled the small basket with the grounds and tamped them until the surface was smooth and solid.

“I can smell it from here. I’ve always loved the scent of coffee, just never tried it.”

“Did you go to college at a private or public school? State or Christian college?”

“State. My parents didn’t want me to, were afraid of the wicked influences. They wanted me to go to a small Christian college, but I received a full scholarship to Tennessee and after some tense discussions, they agreed to let me go.”

“You were eighteen and were in for a free ride. How could they keep you from going?”

“I was only seventeen when I graduated so I couldn’t just go. I was home-schooled and finished early. My test scores got me in.”

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“Did you live in the dorms?”

“Yes. I had roommates and kind of lived vicariously through them. I didn’t go out and party but they did and would tell me all about it. My junior and senior year was when I started venturing out of my shell. I was still able to put on the façade for my parents, but I was dating a little, working part time and spent a lot of time online.”

“And after graduation?”

“I went on a few mission trips to Africa, China, Central America, and when I was home, I had a job in a small bridal shop. My degree was in hospitality management with a minor in creative writing. I don’t have a bit of artistic talent but I can write. I’ve written vows and wedding invitations from time to time.”

“I take it you don’t still have that job?”

“No. I loved it, but it went out of business when the economy started to crash. I lived in the apartment above the garage at my parents’ place. It was my own but not my own. Does that make sense?”

It did. She was still under their thumb, still beholden to their rules. “How will they feel when they find out you’ve quit the university here?”

“I’m sure they already know and I’m sure they’ve left a million messages on my voicemail. They’ve never understood my need to extricate myself from them, to explore life. I love them, but… I don’t want their life. I want mine.”

Her hair was dry and still full of curls, and her hands were folded on top of the bar.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do first. Fuck her or hold her. She seemed so vulnerable, so lost, but at the same time she seemed so determined and feisty. He’d never met a woman he was proud of for anything. Well, not before her. He knew how hard it was to do what she was doing, to essentially divorce herself from all she’d ever known and begin again.

He poured cold milk into a stainless steel cup and set it under the frothing wand.

The noise from the steam made conversation impossible for a few minutes, which was fine. His dick wanted her and his thinking head was telling him after coffee he needed 33

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to send her on her way. He wasn’t the kind of guy she needed during this transition period in her life. He wasn’t even sure she needed a guy at all.

She hadn’t asked for anything more than last night, but he’d already told her he wasn’t finished with her.