Authors: Liz Matis
She took two steps and she was back in his arms, her hands slid up around his neck and she leaned into him. “Had problems with paparazzi making up stories.”
Russ was no stranger to being tabloid fodder back in Australia.
See and you were worried you had nothing else in common besides mind-blowing sex.
He didn’t care about the rumors, but he was curious enough to ask, “What kind of stories?”
His hand closed around her breast, though the texture of the sweater prevented Russ from getting a good hold.
“Do you want to talk or have sex?”
His hand slipped under her shirt. “Is that a trick question?” Since she obviously did not want to tell him, he decided it would be simple enough to Google her later. Much later. Russ bent down to kiss her, his lips meeting hers in a smash as Victoria attacked his mouth like she was out of air and needed to steal his breath away. Kissing her with the same passion, he fumbled to find a wall, chair, or table, anything, so he could make love to her. Her need turned him on, generating a powerful force within him to take her now.
“Ouch.” Victoria bumped into a counter.
“Sorry,” he mumbled into her neck as he kissed her in that spot that made her squirm in delight.
“Do you think we can make it to a bed this time?”
“A bed? I knew you were high maintenance.” Easily lifting her, though he made a face like it was a great chore to do so.
She laughed, wrapping her legs around his waist. “So says the man with the sequined thong.”
The warmth from her body pressed up against him. He couldn’t wait to dive into her heat. “Not my idea. Standard issue.”
“Well, there’s nothing standard issue about what’s behind the razzle and dazzle.”
“Why, thank you for noticing.”
“Kind of hard not to.”
Russ enjoyed her naughty humor. When he sat across from her in the conference room he’d bet his bank account she didn’t have a funny bone in her luscious body. Why the act? Why didn’t she want the world to see the Victoria he was coming to know? What was Victoria’s secret? Hmmm, men have asked that question ever since the advent of the catalogue. Which made him wonder what she was wearing underneath her clothes. He stumbled. “Whoa.”
They reached the steps. “You can let me down.”
“I got you.” At least he hoped he did. She was light as whipped cream but maneuvering up the steps while she nibbled on his ear made him want to take her on the stairs. They reached the top and she opened the door. Curious to see how the diva designer designed her own home, he gently placed her feet on the floor as he noted the décor of the open living space. While not Architecture Digest ready, the living area was sophisticated, but comfy with soft cream walls making it the perfect backdrop for the large artwork hanging on the walls. He wondered if the paintings were her creations. The space was tastefully done—that is if it weren’t for the mess strewn about. Not at all what he expected. He had to stop filtering everything she did by his first impression. “Bonzer.”
“Thanks. But the boudoir is this way.” Victoria tugged on the band of his jeans and walked backwards leading him down a short hallway as she eyed him up and down. “There’s something I need you to fix.”
“At your service.” They entered the bedroom. The queen sized four-poster bed beckoned. A vision of her tied up, spread out before him, at his mercy invaded is already erotic thoughts. But it looked like Victoria had her own agenda.
She helped him off with his shirt and she tossed it, adding to a pile of clothes in the corner. If she was trying to create a new design trend called Slobby Chic she succeeded. “Looks like you need a maid, not a handyman.”
“Do you want a maid or a lover?” Victoria pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs.
It was one of the questions that didn’t need to be answered, but he couldn’t help teasing her. “Are you wearing a French Maid outfit?” He pulled off her shirt.
Ah, a pink lacey push up bra. To match the sweater. Did she always color coordinate?
“No.” She went to work on his belt.
“One of those topless maids?” He unhooked her bra with an expert single flick of his fingers. He preferred skin-to-skin contact.
“Not happening.” Button undone, zipper down.
“Blonde wig?” That earned him a smack to the chest. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m kidding. I prefer the real you.”
“No need for such flattery. You had me ‘at your service.’ Now shut up and lose the pants.” Victoria’s eager hands helped him with the task. “Does it hurt?”
“What?”
“Your cock. Being confined in that torture sling called a thong.”
That dirty word coming out her hot mouth made said cock throb in agony. “I suffer for my public.”
“So very noble.” Victoria pulled out his dick that was hard and ready to go, but apparently playtime wasn’t over yet. Victoria smiled. “Very noble.” Her fingers wrapped around the base and squeezed softly up. “There, isn’t that better?”
“Much,” he managed to say.
Her feminine giggle barely registered. Her artist hands stroked instinctively like she was a genius creating a masterpiece. He looked down to see the results.
Yep, a masterpiece of a hard-on.
She was saying something but all he heard was the roar of blood rushing through his body. “Victoria, you can keep on … ahhhh man … talking but I can’t promise I’m listening.”
“Wet … massage … mouth.”
Now
that
he heard. Or at least those were the parts he heard.
Her lips trailed down the length of him then her tongue licked up. The sensation cause his hips to reflexively jerk up and his dick hit her in the face. “Sorry.”
She gripped him firmly with one hand and repeated the process—lips down, tongue up until he thought he would go mad. Maybe, that was what she was aiming for. To drive him mad. Her past boyfriends were probably in mental institutions babbling incoherently to themselves. Then her sweet mouth finally engulfed him and that’s when the real torture began.
To save his sanity, he stopped her; crazy, he knew.
See, you’re already crazy.
Besides, if he came now, he knew he’d be no good for the rest of the night. He’d be done.
Toast. He pulled her off; drawing her up against him, then flipped her onto her back. He needed to be inside her now. To stop the madness. He pointed to her. “Clothes off. Me, condom.” He spoke like a caveman, but that was all he was capable of at the moment. Standing up the head rush hit him hard. He stumbled to his jeans. Russ was not amused when Victoria laughed. Soon she wouldn’t be laughing, she’d be moaning, she’d be the one to go mad. He pulled out his wallet, slipped the condom out of the fold and tossed the wallet in the same vicinity of his shirt. By the time he had the condom rolled on she had done as he asked. As soon he was inside her he knew he’d be better. Sane.
With a finger he tested to see if she was wet enough for him. She was. Thank God.
Still he’d enter her slowly so her body could adjust to his size. It amazed him that her petite body could accommodate him. Russ smugly knew his size threw the average off for penis length. Victoria cried out in pleasure and he reached the end of what he could handle. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she clutched him in a desperate embrace. They were both were at the end of their limits. Finding a rhythm that didn’t tax his control was impossible but in the end it was Victoria, frantically urging him to go faster, that tested him. Increasing the pace to match the wild beat of their hearts, Russ was quickly, powerfully falling in love but skidded at the edge of the precipice. He would not fall let alone jump over willingly. His body, he would give freely and but his heart would not be enslaved so easily. The rest of who he was poured into her as they climaxed together; their bodies glistening in a sheen of sweat.
He pulled her on top of him and she snuggled into his chest. His heart clenched.
Stay away from the edge. In fact, take two steps back. No, run.
Instead, he stroked the curve of her neck, stupidly happy that she didn’t try to pull away from him like she did the first time.
“I’ll be right back.”
The slight sway of her hips drew Russ’s gaze like a hypnotist swinging an object in front of his eyes. Except, he wasn’t getting sleepy. In fact, as he watched Victoria’s delectable backside disappear into the bathroom he realized he was already hard again. Damn, he’d used his last wellie. He hoped she had her own supply. Preferably an unopened box. For reasons he cared not to explore, he didn’t want to think of the last man who shared Victoria’s bed. Being the most obvious and convenient place for a condom, he opened the nightstand drawer and rifled through the contents.
What do we have here?
He pulled out a large vibrator. No wonder he’d fit inside her, the girl had been in training. He smiled. Russ would’ve felt inadequate if he wasn’t hung like a porn star. Flipping the switch, it buzzed to life in his hand. Of course, his cock couldn’t do that. Frowning over the fact he was jealous over a battery-operated penis, he didn’t initially react as the door swung open.
What was worse, having your girlfriend catch you holding her vibrator or smiling at her when she did? Was there even a correct etiquette? He’d bet none of the men’s magazine had ever covered that topic.
Chapter 21
V
ictoria threw on the silk robe hanging from the hook in the bathroom. The material slid smoothly across her tingling skin. She tightly knotted the belt in hopes of stopping the throbbing of need in between her legs. It wasn’t enough. The more he gave the more she wanted. Russ’s cock was like a syringe filled with pleasure drugs and she needed another fix. Now.
If only it was just sex. She stared into the mirror and blew out a breath that she’d been holding.
It isn’t just sex.
Her self-imposed drought was over and baby when it rained, it poured. A rush of emotions ran through her like a flash flood upon a dry riverbed after a summer storm. Should she ride it out by jumping back in bed and risk being swept away? Or swim to the safety of the shore and tell him ‘well it’s been fun now go home’?
Oh, but before you go just one more time.
She hadn’t wanted a relationship and in fact she went to extremes lengths to dissuade men from thinking she wanted anything more than a good time. But Russ saw through the act.
She fled to the bathroom to escape his tender embrace, to keep her from asking for more. More sex. More him. More them. Russ didn’t need to know how much she needed him inside her. She wouldn’t give him that power. It was bad enough she had torn off his clothes like an Amazon queen claiming her conquest.
Victoria couldn’t go back out there, not when she was still aching with desire. Sliding her hand across the silk, she rubbed the folds of her sex.
No, I will not masturbate with him in the next room.
In frustration she reached for the brush to begin tackling the tangles in her hair, stopping mid-stroke as she heard the distinct sound of buzzing coming from the bedroom.
What the hell?
Opening the door she found a still naked Russ sitting on the edge of the bed holding her vibrator in his open palm. He smiled at her like a prosecutor holding incriminating evidence. Her cheeks burned with mortification. Would he believe it was a personal massager like the catalogue ads advertised? Not likely since Russ could’ve have been used as a mold for the sex toy. She’d bet her face had colored from red into a deep purple. “Put that down!”
“I thought you said you couldn’t use power tools.”
Victoria almost broke into a smile. But between the embarrassment of him finding her pleasure ‘tool’ and indignation of him rifling through her belongings she was able to summon a dignified tone. “A penis is simple enough to operate.”
Russ threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Truer words were never spoken.”
She loved the sound of his deep throaty laugh. She almost forgot to be mad at him. “Why were you going through my stuff?”
“I was looking for a condom.”
“Oh.” A girl couldn’t be mad about that, could she?
“Does it have a name?”
“No!” She held out her hand. “Now give it.”
“You want it? Come and get it.” He waved the vibrator up in the air.
Victoria took the bait and tackled him but her slight weight failed to knock him flat on his back. She made several swipes to grab it out of his out stretched arm but his reach out measured hers by several inches. “It’s not fair. You have gorilla arms.”
“Gorilla arms?” In one fluid motion Russ flopped her onto her back and tossed the vibrator toward the nightstand drawer but missed, it fell to the floor and rolled away for the second time in as many nights. She suppressed a smile. “You better not have broken it.”
Russ shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, it’s just been retired.”
“But I didn’t even give him a going away party.”
“Now it’s a him?” Russ started to tickle her.
Victoria squealed, “Yes, and his name is Lorenzo.”