Freeing the Beast: Taming the Beast, Book 1 (10 page)

Her eyes sparkled from the faint illumination bleeding past the building.

Eric saw what he had before, desire and submission to what they both wanted.

He gathered Becca in his arms, inhaling deeply at how soft and lush she was. All woman.
Damn.
It was nearly more than he could bear. Lowering his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “Are you wearing a thong?”

“No.”

Crap. “Panties?”

“No.”

Hell. “A girdle?”

“No.” She elbowed him.

He puffed out a mild groan, thinking about her answers. No thong, panties, or girdle, which left… “Nothing.”

“Bingo.”

If his cock could have sung, it would have. He searched her face, checking to see what she thought, felt, wanted. When it came to women, he never knew for certain and should have asked, but didn’t want to break the spell they’d woven around each other.

Apparently, neither did Becca. After easing away from him, she placed her purse on the nearest table and pulled out the chair in front of it. With one high-heeled sandal propped on the seat, she ran her fingertips over her skirt, teasing it up her leg.

“What are you waiting for?” she whispered.

Chapter Eight

The muggy breeze ruffled the fabric of Becca’s dress, rippling it against her calf and thigh.

Eric stared at both as if he’d never seen a woman’s leg before. The pronounced ridge of his throat bobbed with his hard swallow. He scanned the area, her, then the area again, and finally took off his jacket. Lightly, he whapped it against the table behind Becca.

The mosaic-tiled top pinged with each of his strikes.

She spoke quietly. “Are we going to lay down on that?”

“Not both of us. Hang tight.”

Easier said than done. If her nipples got any harder, they’d poke holes in her top. Her pussy was so freaking damp, Becca felt the breeze licking it, fruitlessly trying to dry her out. “Want me to help?”

“Done.” Carefully, Eric spread his jacket over the freshly dusted tiles then offered his hand.

Becca left the chair and moved into him. He embraced her with such confidence and need, her excitement sparked to an alarming level, leaving her lightheaded. They were really going to climb all over each other out here.

Somehow, it continued to seem reasonable.

She bit back a moan at Eric kissing her hard and unyieldingly with a right she’d not only given him, but one he’d taken as the newest member of the Bad Boys Club.

Probably not a good thing, but hardly a matter Becca could resist.

He ran his hands down her back, over her ass, cupping those cheeks to pull her closer so her cunt could feel the wonder of his cock.

Reinforced concrete had nothing on him. Becca’s heart sputtered then raced at how he savored her lips—with far more gusto than he had their meal. He angled his head to the left and right, trying to sink his tongue more deeply into her mouth.

A gift she accepted with no hesitation, suckling him greedily, gripping his shirt to keep him as close as possible.

He ground his hips into hers, his rigid shaft pressing against her cleft, wanting in.

Soon, baby.

His actions said
screw that, no more waiting
.
Tearing his mouth free, he rasped, “On the table. Lay back. Now.”

Even in the treatment room, he hadn’t sounded as husky or insistent, and he’d been out of control then.

Wow, this was nice. Smiling, Becca leaned into him.

Eric pressed his cheek to hers and whispered, “I said, now.”

He took matters into his own hands and directed Becca onto the table, helping her as she lay back on his jacket. Her hair fell away from her face. Despite the humid night, a spray of stars twinkled above, reminding Becca of her navel jewelry.

The delicate trinkets slid over her belly. Something inside her turned over as Eric lifted her arms above her head, positioning them as though she were a dancer…exhibiting her body to him.

He arranged two chairs so she could rest her feet on the backs of them, her legs spread widely apart. Eric touched the straps of her sandals, her polished toenails.

Giggling softly, Becca wiggled her toes.

He didn’t smile or comment. Instead, he stroked her ankle, then leaned over her and whispered, “Why didn’t you wear those chains around your leg like you used to? What happened to your toe rings?”

Constance had talked her out of them. Damn her. Becca had no idea how much Eric liked her jewelry. “None of that stuff matched my dress.”

“You should have worn them,” he grumbled.

Next time
,
her heart said.
Yeah sure
,
good sense mocked, telling her to enjoy what she had right now. An evening that was more than she would have ever hoped for.

He tried to loosen his tie and gave up after a few tugs, shoving the ends into his shirt to keep them out of his way. Finished, he regarded her. “No stopping now, right?”

She shook her head, agreeing with him, obedient to whatever he willed. Not even a SWAT team and the bitching from their respective families would have convinced Becca to deny herself this. “Bring. It. On.”

With a wolfish grin, Eric folded her skirt back an inch at a time, as he would a longed-for gift he didn’t want to unwrap too quickly, relishing each part of her that he exposed. Calves. Thighs. Pussy.

A wave of Becca’s perfume mingled with the scent of Italian fare that wafted from the restaurant, and the breeze tinged with the briny odor of the Gulf. The air whispered over her puffy folds, confirming how damp she still was.

Eric didn’t play with that part of her right away. He draped Becca’s skirt above her navel and fingered her stars.

Her tummy quivered. Her mind raced.

Since she’d lost her virginity at twenty, Becca had never been exposed to a man for a prolonged period. Her hookups had always been frantic, fueled by intense loneliness, too much booze, and ended up being short-lived. The proverbial wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. Not unlike her and Eric’s first go-round in the treatment room.

That had been nothing like this. Deliberately, he took his time, savoring each moment, eager to drink her in.

She found it exhilarating and daunting.

Although it was dark, with the shadows smoothing out many of her flaws, there was enough light for him to study the most intimate part of her.

He quit toying with her jewelry and stroked her reddish curls.

She whimpered at the storm of sensations rushing to every part of her body. Rousing emotions she’d buried deep to avoid being hurt, settling on a life without intimacy and desire. Even though it was impossible for her to resist those feelings now—given what Eric was doing—Becca tried. She fisted her fingers, needing to maintain some control.

He wound one of her curls around his finger and tugged gently, teasingly. “Your real color?”

She swallowed. “Uh-huh.”

A crazed sound tore from him, thick with passion. “Lift your ass.”

Once she had, Eric cupped her cheeks, his strength easily keeping them elevated. He bent down.

She blinked wildly and shivered at his first lick that took in the length of her cleft. On his second, Becca gripped the lip of the table, holding it as she would the safety bar on a roller coaster, defending against its perilous dips and sways. This was far more dangerous and thrilling. She shuddered with each new stroke, Eric’s tongue lapping her juices, stimulating her clit.

Torrents of pleasure tore through Becca, some feral in their intensity, others so new and astonishing she had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out, bringing anyone back here. In the relative quiet, too much noise drifted from the parking lot. Cars starting and stopping, voices raised in conversation or laughter.

Tension built deep within her sheath. An itch she couldn’t scratch that Eric kept tormenting her with. He licked fast, slow, medium, around her nub, on the damn thing, seemingly unable to make up his mind, wanting to drive her fucking mental, not allowing her to peak.

Each time Becca came close, Eric changed tactics, behaving like the bad boy he’d become.

Fuck that. She lifted her hips to follow his tongue.

He ran his fingers down the furrow between her cheeks, settling on her anus.

Becca’s mouth hung open. She gasped out a sound that didn’t resemble anything human or immortal.

Eric seemed pleased with her response, his tongue pleasuring her uber-sensitive clit, his little finger probing her other opening, giving Becca the thrill of her life. She clutched the table, clenched her teeth and literally dug in her heels as her climax hit with the force of a hurricane.

A shriek of pleasure rose in her throat. She pushed it back, needing to keep quiet, which only aroused her more. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her, draining all of her energy, leaving her struggling for air.

Gasping was out of the question. She didn’t have the strength. Becca wasn’t certain she’d ever breathe normally again. The stars spun above her as though she were on a carnival ride at the county fair. Her legs and arms felt leaden. Even if she’d wanted to move, she couldn’t have managed it. Moments before, Eric had released her ass so he could wind his arms around her thighs, pushing them back in order to go at her again.

Oh crap, not that.
She hadn’t had a chance to settle down from her first orgasm. Becca rolled her head from side to side and pounded the table with her fists.

“Hey,” Eric complained at the racket she was making. “You want someone to come back here and stop us?”

She wasn’t that loony. “Sorry.” Like a good girl, Becca surrendered, her limbs as limp as overcooked spaghetti, her mouth moving like a fish smothering in air.

Eric soldiered on, loving her nub, tunneling two fingers into her channel. Imprisoning and stretching her for his awesome cock.

The pressure was delicious, her next climax a mere scream away.

Before she could plummet over the edge, he released her right thigh. Beneath the ringing in her ears, Becca heard a faint zipping sound. Eric’s clothes rustling.

Through it all, he suckled her nub, then stopped abruptly and didn’t move.

Had someone arrived? Seen them? Was that person watching now? Oh crap, it couldn’t be Desi.

Reluctantly, Becca went to her elbows. She and Eric were still alone. His cock protruded from the tails of his shirt. Thick. Rigid. Even longer than it had been in the treatment room. She wanted to believe it was because of her, not the potion.

Her hunger for him asked,
Why should it matter?
Her heart whispered,
It will.

Ignoring her nagging doubts, Becca stared at Eric as he stared at her. At last, he winked. She blushed, then got bold, drawing her tongue over her lips the same as the pretty girl who’d flirted with him earlier.

Eric smiled at Becca as he hadn’t Ms. Nympho and then got serious again, digging in his pocket. “Give me a sec to put this on.”

He ripped the packet so fast and hard, the condom flew out, soared for a moment then dropped to the concrete.

Eric swore beneath his breath. “I’ve got more in my car. Hang tight.”

Half-naked? “You don’t need them,” Becca said before he took another step away from her. She might have been abstinent, but wasn’t foolish enough to believe it would last forever. “I’m protected.”
Against everything except falling for you.

His expression said he loved the thought of going in raw. With a male’s unashamed delight, he watched himself lifting his cock, bathing the plump head in her slick juices.

Becca sighed at how great that felt. She wanted to see him burrowing into her, each luscious inch of him disappearing within her body, but her arms gave out. Sinking to the table, she gave herself up, a willing sacrifice to him impaling her.

Eric didn’t rush. He rested one hand on her belly, his thumb returning to her clit. The moment he rubbed it, Becca arched her back then lifted her ass as he entered her. Slowly, at first, so she could feel his beefy crown straining against the walls of her tight pussy.

With his next stroke on her nub, he penetrated deeper, furthering his intimate invasion, making certain her body sheltered his.

Was there any doubt?

All of her life, Becca had felt lonely when it came to men. During this small slice of time, she knew what it was like to have someone who was hers alone. That could change in a minute. A second. Warning bells went off again. She dismissed them.

On a quiet grunt, Eric pushed all the way inside, his balls smacking her ass.

Becca held out her arms in invitation, wanting him even closer.

He kissed both her palms then pulled her arms above her shoulders again and warned, “Don’t move.”

“At all?” She stopped squeezing his cock with her cunt. “Sure you want that?”

His shoulders trembled with laughter. “Behave.”

“Are you certain you want—”

“Keep your arms where they are or else.”

“Or else what?”

“You won’t get this.” He pulled her dress’s stretchy halter top to each side, exposing her breasts.

She grasped the edge of the table again, thankful she hadn’t worn a bra. Eric fondled her with the enthusiasm of a man denied a woman’s flesh for too long, dragging his thumbs over her nipples, testing the weight of her breasts in his palms, resting his head between them.

His hair smelled of shampoo, a pleasant botanical scent that didn’t come close to the wonder of his natural musk.

The noises he made betrayed his brutal need. His cock grew even harder within Becca’s pussy. On a strained sigh, he suckled her nipples.

Holy hell, this was better than she’d dreamed. He flicked his tongue against the tips even as he sucked with just enough force to curl the hair on her head. She wilted with the next pull of his lips then tensed as he resumed stroking her nub. Lazily. Maddeningly. Stopping. Starting again.

Becca twisted beneath him, the mounting and waning pleasure too much to bear. She begged, “Let me come.”

Eric nuzzled her neck then gave it an openmouthed kiss, delivering another slam of delight to every part of her. Incapable of resisting, she finally rode the wave, not caring about anything except having a great time.

Her body rocked with each of Eric’s assured thrusts, proving the beast he’d become. He was more than sure of himself…he was damned certain of her, knowing she loved this. Her breasts jiggled each time he plowed into her. The stars reeled again with her soaring dizziness.

Becca gripped his arms, needing them for support, defying his earlier order not to move.

Eric kept pumping, faster now, identical to how he rubbed her clit. Demanding that she come. Suddenly, Becca wanted to fight it, reluctant for the act to end. She distracted herself with the noises coming from the lot. Hungry people arriving. Stuffed patrons departing.

He stroked and thrust again and again and—

Perspiration slipped from Becca’s temples to her neck. Even in the gloom, she could see Eric’s complexion had darkened with passion. His eyes were just short of wild.

He swooped down and kissed her. Not with brutal need but stunning tenderness. Precisely what she needed in order to let go, trust what might happen next.

She peaked.

His tongue muffled her jarring cry, allowing only a few whimpers to escape. None of them conveyed the pure power of what she’d experienced.