Read My Wicked Valentine (Club Wicked 1) Online
Authors: Ann Mayburn
Tags: #Multicultural, #contemporary, #BDSM, #erotic romance
My Wicked Valentine (Club Wicked 1) (26 page)
When he was halfway in, he lifted her other leg and wrapped
it around his waist, bracing her back against the frame. Looking down at her
face, he marveled at the depth of passion he saw there mixed with a soft
emotion he never thought he’d see on a woman’s face.
At least not for him.
“Open your eyes, Kitten.” His voice came out in an unsteady
growl.
She did as he asked, and when their eyes met, an electricity
jumped between them, adding urgency to his need to be fully inside of her. With
a hard thrust of his hips, he buried his erection in her soft depths, drawing a
sharp cry from her. She started to close her eyes, but he pinched her ass,
hard.
“I said open your eyes.”
Something needy and vulnerable drifted through her gaze as
he began to slowly stroke in and out of her body. He loved that, the way she
surrendered to his will, going against her own urges to please him. Holding her
gaze, he groaned as she moved her hips against him, the grip of her legs around
his waist tightening with each thrust.
“Suck my finger.”
She eagerly opened for him and swirled her velvety tongue
around him, sending hot sparks to the base of his spine. After it was nice and
wet, he reached beneath her and pressed against the entrance to her ass. Her
immediate shudder almost unmanned him. He breeched the tight ring of her anus,
thrusting his finger in and out in time to his thrusts.
“Fuck, that feels so good. Someday I’m going to put my cock
in that tight little ass.”
She shook her head, but he smiled and pounded into her
harder. “Oh yes. You belong to me, Lucia. You are mine to play with, mine to
cherish, mine to fuck.” He removed his finger from her bottom and pressed as
close to her as he could before whispering into her ear. “And I’m yours.”
Her whole body tensed against him, and he strained to keep
from coming. Angling her hips to meet his pelvis, he thrust into her two more
times before she screamed his name and clenched all around his cock like a
fist, milking him with her orgasm. Finally able to let go, he drove into her as
deep as he could, and groaned as the burning rush of his own release shot
through him, filling her again and again with his seed. Pleasure sank into
every cell of his body, and as he whispered her name, he experienced what had
to be the longest orgasm of his life.
When his body finally stopped twitching, he placed a kiss on
her damp neck and slowly withdrew. He didn’t want to leave her warmth, but
she’d have some sore muscles tomorrow if he didn’t get her off the web soon.
She made a little mewling sound of distress that tugged at his heart.
“Shh, I’ll take care of you.”
He grabbed the towel on the ground and quickly cleaned
himself before attending to her. With gentle strokes he efficiently washed her,
the scent of their release mixing together and creating a primal fragrance that
he loved. It was their unique smell, a blend of their pheromones that appealed
to him more than any perfume in the world.
Tossing the towel over to the side, he unstrapped her arms
and held her close as her knees gave out and she slumped against him. The
chains of her top pressed into his chest, and he closed his eyes, so very
grateful she’d given him a second chance. She rubbed her nose back and forth in
the hair on his chest, making happy noises low in her throat.
He had to steady his own legs as he moved them over to the
wall, then sat down and drew her into his lap. Warm and cuddly, she squirmed
against him, and his cock twitched in response.
“Unless you want to go for round two, I suggest you stop
that wiggling.”
She laughed against his chest. “Sorry. I just feel so good.
Like I’m floating on a cotton-candy cloud of happiness.”
“A cotton-candy cloud of happiness?”
She nipped his nipple, startling a yelp from him. “Don’t
harsh my buzz.”
Laughing, he kissed her head and held her as close as he
could without crushing her and floated on his own cotton-candy cloud of
happiness.
Valentine’s Day
Lucia strolled through the throng of revelers in the grand
ballroom of Wicked, now transformed into a 1920s speakeasy. From behind a
privacy screen, a live band played a mixture of jazz and ragtime music, and one
entire wall of the ballroom had been turned into a massive bar. She’d even
found an amazing antique absinthe fountain that had drawn quite a crowd.
All around her men and women laughed and smiled, their joy
becoming her joy. Across from her, a submissive wailed out her release as her
Dom made use of one of the spinning roulette wheels in the gaming area that had
been specially modified to allow a submissive to be strapped down. There were
also poker tables, dice, and even a game of dominos that had all been modified
in one way or another to become sexual games of Dominance and submission. Those
had been Isaac’s idea, and she had to admit her Master had a very perverted and
yummy imagination.
She headed toward the bar to get a drink, mindful to stay
away from the section with the glory holes, and grinned from ear to ear.
Everywhere she looked someone was either examining one of her decorations with
delight or laughing and having a great time. Giant paper heart lanterns hung
from the ceiling and gave the room a wonderful smoky feel reminiscent of oil
lanterns. The great lighting certainly flattered the club members, and more
than one woman had told her she wished she had this kind of lighting in her
bedroom.
An older woman in an apple-green beaded dress and a silvery
mask stopped next to her and smiled. “Fabulous party, darling. Do you do more
traditional events as well?”
Lucia nodded and fished around in the small pocket cleverly
sewn into her white silk flapper dress. She pulled out her business card and
made a mental note that she needed to get more from her purse when she had a
second. “Of course. If you have an event to celebrate, I’d be more than happy
to talk with you further about it.”
The other woman took her card and slipped it into her
bodice. “Thank you.” She leaned closer and whispered, “My name is Gail Wentworth,
but the club members know me as Sherri.”
Lucia whispered back, “Your secret is safe with me, Sherri.”
With a laugh, the woman waved and merged back into the
shifting crowd. Lucia glanced at the elegant and extravagant gold watch that
Isaac had given her as a one-week anniversary of their first date. They’d had
quite a fight about it being too much, but they’d made an agreement that if she
accepted the watch, he would stick to presents that cost under a hundred
dollars. In the weeks since, she’d received a teddy bear from one of those
build-your-own-stuffed-animal places and a cheesy keychain that played “When
You Wish Upon a Star.” Oh, and every Monday morning she received a delivery of
a huge bouquet of fresh honeysuckle to her office.
Speak of the devil, she caught sight of Isaac and held up
her hand, waving to him. He shuffled through the increasingly crowded ballroom,
that irresistible smirk of his warming her from the inside out. Tonight he wore
a sharp black suit with a white silk tie. His hair was slicked back, and he’d
grown a bit of stubble to lend to the gangster look he was going for. Tall,
dark, and handsome, he was everything she’d ever wanted in a man and more.
When he reached her side, he grinned and grasped her around
the waist, setting her on the counter of the bar. “Hey there, doll.”
She giggled and looked down her nose at him. “Hey yourself.
You sure look swell tonight.”
He raised her hand to his mouth, rubbing her knuckles across
his lips. “Everyone I’ve talked to is having a fantastic time. You really went
above and beyond even my wildest expectations.”
She beamed at him and cupped his face in her free hand. “I
couldn’t have done it without you.”
Trying to be casual, but failing, he tilted his head.
“Notice anything different?”
She examined him closely, her gaze traveling down his body
until a small gleam of gold on his lapel caught her attention. It was a small
pin with an elaborate
W
in the middle
of an art-deco-style circle.
“You made the board!”
He grinned and hugged her close. “Thanks in no small part to
you.”
“Oh Isaac, that’s wonderful.” She looked down at the pin
again and traced the
W
with the tip
of her finger.
“We are quite a team, aren’t we?”
“Yes, we are. I’ve got the looks, the brains, and the skills
while you have an excessively dirty mind.”
He nipped the pad of her thumb with a growl that made
everything below her belly button tighten in a warm flush of desire. “I thought
you liked my dirty mind.”
The world around them faded into the background, becoming a
meaningless blur of sound and motion. She leaned down and brushed her lips over
his. “I love your dirty mind.”
He grinned, then grew more serious. Moving the stool
separating them out of the way, he insinuated himself between her legs and
pulled her closer until her already damp sex pressed against his hard stomach.
“I love everything about you.”
She blinked at him, unsure if she was hearing more into his
words than he was saying. “You do?”
“Oh yes. I love your creativity, your strength, and your
kindness.” He took a deep breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I
love you, Ms. Roa. In fact, I think I’ve loved you since the day we met.”
Her throat tightened up, and she swallowed hard. “I love you
too.”
His wonderful, clever hands cupped her bottom, and he kissed
her thoroughly, claiming her mouth and squeezing her ass hard enough to make
her groan.
“Mine,” he said in a husky whisper against her lips.
“Yours,” she agreed and kissed him back with all the joy
filling her heart.
Ann Mayburn
The Breaker’s Concubine
* * * *
The CLUB WICKED Series
My Wicked Valentine
* * * *
The VIRTUAL SEDUCTION Series
Sodom and Detroit
Sodom and the Phoenix
Ann is Queen of the Castle to her wonderful husband and
three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she’s been an
import broker, a communications specialist, a US Navy civilian contractor, a
bartender/waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also
spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her
children that it ever happened.
From a young age she’s been fascinated by myths and
fairytales, and the romance that often was the center of the story. As Ann grew
older and her hormones kicked in, she discovered trashy romance novels. Great at
first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big, wonderful,
emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple
prose (throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle),
she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail
and plot as everything else without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led
her to the wonderful world of erotic romance, and she’s never looked back.
Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing
in the background to get into her ‘sexy space’ and has learned to type one
handed while soothing a cranky baby.
Links to Ann Mayburn:
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http://www.annmayburn.com
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