Her gaze drifted to his lap, where the outline of his swollen cock was more than evident against his jeans. He was big. Really big. It wasn't like he could hide it. He'd been teased about the Nottingham Monster ever since he hit puberty. After a while the teasing became admiration from women, jealousy from other guys. Her eyes widened before moving back up to his face.
“I've never done that for a man before.”
He arched a brow. “Seriously?”
“I don't lie, Mike. Especially about sex.”
“Then, thank you. Because I really enjoyed it. I've never seen anything so hot.” She tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “With your kind of experience? I find that hard to believe.”
He still had hold of her hand and placed it over his throbbing shaft. “Experience has nothing to do with turn-ons, Grace. Experience has nothing to do with finding something new and exciting that gives you a rush. You've been around the block a few times. You should know that.
“What you did just now made me so goddamn hot I almost came without touching myself. I'm so hard right now it hurts. Feel me. I'm hot, I'm aching and I need you. And I'm not lying about that.”
FOUR
Grace hadn't intended to put on that show of masturbation. She hadn't planned for any of this to happen, but it had.
And now that it had, she wanted more.
She laid her palm over the rigid length of Mike's sizeable cock, feeling the sweet slide of wetness between her legs in response. Masturbating for him had been an incredible experience and brought about an orgasm so intense she could barely remain standing through it. She hadn't come that hard in far too long.
But it had been all her. Mike's restraint amazed her. He hadn't leaped out of the chair to join in. He didn't even unzip his pants to jack off. He'd just watched. And that was the biggest turn-on of all. She got off on his hot eyes, the way he followed the movements of her hand. He wasn't out for himself—he was invested in her pleasure, in her orgasm. She'd never enjoyed teasing a man so much, had never become so aroused pleasuring herself—both for her own benefit and for someone else's.
And now that she had, she could well imagine his patience had worn thin. His cock was steel beneath the denim of his jeans, pulsing and rigid and hot. He was ready for a good fuck. Hard and deep and fast. Probably right here on the couch and right now. She couldn't really blame him, since she'd teased him so badly.
“I know what you're thinking,” he said.
Her gaze swept from his shaft to his eyes. “You do?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay. Tell me what I'm thinking.”
“I'd wager the men you meet want to fuck you long and hard. When they get a chance with you, they want to assure you they're the best the fuck you've ever had.” She resisted the laugh bubbling up in the back of her throat. “Uh, you might be right about that.” Actually, that was exactly what happened with most men she met at the club. That's why she rarely selected strangers and kept to men she knew, men she could count on to give her the release she needed, then discreetly leave. She didn't have time for he-men shows of prowess.
“I don't think that's what you need.”
“You don't.”
He shook his head and stood, reaching for her hand. “No.” Curious as to what he thought she did need, she slipped her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Show me to your bedroom.”
Bedroom? Now that was a first. She'd been taken on the couch, bent over by the window, on the kitchen counter and table, on the floor and across the coffee table— typically anywhere
but
the bedroom. In fact, if a helicopter from the
National Enquirer
were hovering by her picture window while she was being fucked, snapping photos for the next cover story, that would make the men who screwed her ecstatic. She was, after all, a prize and had to be shown off.
Her bedroom was her private sanctuary. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually had a man in there. Entertaining was usually done in the living room, even with the men she knew. Yet she found herself leading Mike down the hallway to the double doors to her bedroom.
He opened them and pulled her inside, flipping on the light.
“King-size bed?”
“Yeah. Just in case I want to have two or three people in the bed with me.” He arched a brow, then laughed. Okay, so he doubted she was serious about that. He was right—she wasn't. For someone who enjoyed sex as much as she did, or at least as much as she had over the past years, she really hadn't had much lately. Burnout. That had to be it. Too much stimulation for too long. Just like Mike had said— she'd seen it all, done it all, and it had lost its allure.
So why was the simple act of holding Mike's hand making her toes curl? Why, when he dragged her against his chest, did her heart slam against her ribs? She was hardly new at this seduction thing. Yet feeling her body pressed to his made her nipples harden and her breath catch. Being in his arms felt... right, felt good, stirred her into a rippling awareness of every movement, every touch of his fingers along her back. Why did the simple scent of his soap cause her senses to go haywire?
Why did she feel a rush of panic when he bent his lips to hers? Because this wasn't scripted, because she didn't know exactly what was going to happen and how? Because so far tonight Mike Nottingham had proven to be anything
but
predictable? The brush of his mouth was a slow assault, not at all what she was
used to. It wasn't an attack, it was sweet. Just a whisper of a kiss—meant to entice, not ravage. He paused, his breath warm against her lips. It
was a question. Mike was asking, not taking, placing the onus on her to make the decision whether to
go
further or put the brakes on. A millisecond of indecision crossed her mind. The way he made her feel was dangerous. She could stop and they could simply talk. She enjoyed talking to him.
But why? When she'd wanted sex with a man before, she'd had it. She'd never been afraid of her feelings. Mike was a stranger. An attractive, sexy, compelling man, but not one she intended to see beyond tonight. So why wouldn't she indulge her desires? She moved in and breached that last inch separating them, giving him her answer with a contented sigh into his open mouth. His lips were full and parted farther as she pressed her mouth over his. Grace kept waiting for him to tighten his hold over her, to slam her into the wall or pull her skirt up to slide his hand over her pussy or throw her onto the bed so he could press into her. He did none of those things. Instead, he rubbed his hands over her back, massaging the muscles there in light circles, his mouth doing slow, gentle, magical things with his kiss. He was tender, taking his time, enthralling her with a kiss unlike anything she could remember experiencing. Her sex life was about driving lust and hard passion—not this slow, exquisite seduction of her senses. The men she was used to taking to her bed gave her fast, intense fucks and quick orgasms—Mike didn't seem to be in any hurry to touch her breasts or insinuate himself between her legs. But she was pulsing everywhere. Her nipples were tight and hot and aching and her pussy quivered in anticipation. And still, he kissed her, notching her arousal to a fevered frenzy. She clutched his arms and dug her nails in, licking at his tongue as he lazily continued mapping her body with caresses. She finally couldn't stand it and tore her mouth away. She leaned back and searched his face, confused by this languorous journey he was taking her on.
“Mike.”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing?”
Now that she was arched backward in his arms, he swept his palm up her belly and ribs, letting his hand come to rest under her breast. Her heart pounded against his fingers. “I'm touching you. Do you know how good your body feels against my hand?” “Uh, no.” But she knew how damn good it felt to be touched by him. So why was she about to complain? Because he wasn't throwing her down and shoving his cock inside her? What was wrong with her? “Relax, Grace. We have all night.”
She sucked in a breath. Relax. Right. She should do that. Stop thinking about past experiences and enjoy the journey. But somewhere along the way she'd lost control of the situation. Mike had taken the reins and he was in charge now. Not that she was uncomfortable. Well, she was uncomfortable. Profoundly uncomfortable. But in an aroused, delicious, swept-away kind of way. She gasped when he picked her up and cradled her against his chest. That she hadn't expected. He made her feel fragile, womanly—cared for. As if she would break if he manhandled her too roughly. He carried her to the bed and deposited her in the center. Now they were getting somewhere. Now they were getting to the disrobing, and inserting of peg A into slot B. The fun part. The part where she got to feel that huge cock of his in her pussy. The part where she came. And he came.
Except Mike wasn't taking his clothes off. He didn't remove his shirt and jeans, just kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, lying down on his side next to her. He palmed her neck and leaned over her, then started kissing her again, the same kind of oh-my-God intense, slow, incredibly soft kisses that made her insides turn to melted butter. The kind of kisses that made her think about jumping on top of him, unzipping his pants and impaling herself on his cock, then rubbing her clit against his hard flesh until she screamed.
She whimpered against his lips and started a half turn so she could grab him and inch closer, but he planted his hand on her belly and kept her pinned on her back. “Stay there. I want to undress you.”
Used to being more of a participant in sex, she plucked at his fingers.
Mike laughed and held his hand firmly on her stomach. “Grace.
Let me.”
His deep voice was a command, not a request. She stopped struggling, giving herself up to the sensation of his hand gliding along her hip. He bunched the material of her skirt in his hand and pulled, raising her dress. Cool air breezed across her skin. She shivered at the dark look in his eyes as her flesh was revealed—first her thighs, then the panties covering her sex.
Once again he surprised her. He looked hungry, his jaw clenched tight like an animal ready to pounce. She thought he'd touch her pussy. He didn't. Just raised her dress and stared at her body, then looked at her face and kissed her again, taking her to that blissful place that was both agony and ecstasy. She felt his hand at her chest, undoing the buttons of her blouse. Slow, unbearably slow, he unbuttoned her, then pulled aside the silk, baring her breasts. She wore only an underwire bra, but no cups. “Damn, that's sexy.” His warm breath sailed across her breast, puckering her nipple. She shuddered, then cried out when he covered the bud with his hips, sucking the tip between his teeth. With a gentle tug, he pulled her nipple into his mouth, then bathed it with his tongue. Over and over again, like his kisses, loving her nipple, then covering her breast with his hand.
Grace had very small breasts—not the kind men usually went
crazy over. But Mike was paying very thorough attention to them. He
took her to the peak of torment by licking and sucking one, then did
the same thing to the other, his dark head bent over her as he focused
his attention on each nipple until she arched her back to feed them to him. When he finally raised his head, she lifted herself up on her elbows, both her nipples erect, wet points, aching with pleasurable tenderness. Her pussy was wet and throbbing and she hoped he planned to fuck her soon because she was about to self combust. “I want you naked,” was all he said, his lips curling in a hint of a smile.
He lifted her and pulled her blouse off, unhooked her bra and tossed both garments onto a nearby chair. Then he pushed her back onto the mattress and slipped his hand under her to pull her skirt off, taking his time to draw the silk down her legs. He followed the fabric, moving between her legs and spreading them, then staring at her again. Still, he was fully clothed and she wore only her black panties.
“You have an incredibly beautiful body.”
“Thank you.” For heaven's sake, she was blushing! She felt the heat creep into her face and couldn't believe it. She never blushed. Though she hardly considered herself gorgeous, she knew she had pretty hair and unusual violet eyes, which more than made up for her small breasts and lack of curves. She'd long ago accepted that she wasn't hideous but she was no raving beauty. Yet, the way Mike looked at her made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. And that was an incredibly heady feeling. “I'll bet your pussy is as pretty as the rest of you.” He slipped his fingers under the skimpy strings at her hips and drew the panties down, but only part way. She lifted, wanting to help him, willing to do anything to get naked, then to get him naked, but he was bound and determined, obviously, to do this his way. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her hipbone.
Could a woman die from arousal? From an overabundance of
stimulation? Because it was happening. His mouth was . . . right
there . . . so close and yet he was teasing her with soft kisses to her belly, her hips, dragging her panties down an inch at a time. “Mike, please.” She couldn't breathe. She was getting light-headed. She wished she was stronger because she swore she'd flip him onto his back and rape him at this point. A quick glance between his legs told her his erection was still there. Oh, man, was it still there. “Please what, darlin'?” His words, mumbled against her inner thigh. So close she could feel his breath at her pussy. So close, if he flicked his tongue out he'd touch her there. She'd go off in a heartbeat if he did. She couldn't even answer him. He knew what she wanted, what she was asking for. She didn't have to tell him.
“God, you smell good,” he said, taking her panties down another inch.
She was dying. Really dying this time, because he kissed right above her sex, and she prayed he was going to move down, follow the trail of her panties.
“Why are you doing this?” She didn't realize until he stilled that she'd said the words aloud.
“Because you deserve it.”
She wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not, because at the moment she felt tortured, as if she were enduring some kind of punishment. Was he doing this because she'd teased him by touching herself and not letting him see?
Or was she just so lost in desire she was no longer rational?
Honestly, she didn't know.
But when she felt cool air waft across her clit, she no longer cared. She was bare, and he was pulling her panties down, leaving them at her thighs, but that was fine. Her sex was naked and his mouth was there—right there, and her gaze was riveted as he pressed a kiss to her pussy. Her clit quivered, her sex on fire as she poised, waited and watched.
Then his mouth covered her clit and she couldn't help the strangled cry that fell from her lips. She'd never felt anything so good. He sucked her clit and licked it at the same time, rolling his tongue over the throbbing bud with a wet heat that sent her skyrocketing into orgasm. Her eyes widened and she gasped, shocked at the lightning bolt zapping her insides into molten lava. How could he do this to her? How could he make her feel this crashing pleasure with soft kisses and gentle tugs on her clit? It never happened like this. But, oh God, it was happening now.
She came fast. Her climax caught her unprepared and she grabbed on to his hair and pulled him against her, lifting her hips and letting out moans she couldn't control. He moved down to suck at her pussy, sliding his tongue inside to lap at the juices that seeped from her. Pulses quivered inside her long after that initial rush. She didn't even have time to come down from that first orgasm before he had her heated up and climbing again, his tongue like liquid heat and moving all over her, lapping her up from one end to the other. He was a magic man, a sorcerer, and she gave herself up to him, relaxing the tension that had taken hold of her, letting the questions about him, about herself, fly away. She was going to have what she wanted with Mike tonight, and not think about anything else. “Again,” she begged, lifting her hips, demanding more of his mouth against her, his tongue pleasuring her.
But she didn't just get his mouth. She felt his fingers along her pussy lips and then inside her. One, then two. Not hard, but gentle, sliding inside her with a soft, rhythmic motion as he sucked her clit. Yeah, he was magic all right. She closed her eyes and absorbed the sensations, letting him lead her to a shuddering climax again. When she went, her pussy gripped his fingers in a tight vise and she rocked against them, unabashedly enjoying the place he'd taken her to. Grace couldn't wait to take his thick cock inside her. She was ready to be fucked.