PerpetualPleasure (5 page)

He shook his head again and saw uncertainty enter her eyes.
That vulnerability called to him, called as loudly as her body did, the
combination making him crazy to know her, to make her expose more than just her
desirable body to him.

She had called him obsessed. Well, color him lost because
that’s what he felt looking down at her to see her looking up at him.

“Tell me you want me,” she said, her intense gaze almost
hypnotic.

His eyes eating her up, Mac ground out a gravelly answer. “I
want you, Lucie. More than it’s sane for a man to want a woman. More than I’ve
ever craved anyone. More than I could ever imagine wanting a woman in my life.”

His words setting her in motion, Lucie tugged at the hem of
her tube top and pulled it off to let her breasts bounce free. MacCale drew a
strangled breath. She toed off her shoes, baring her feet, and lay down to open
her jeans, one devilishly slow button at a time.

She was enjoying herself, Mac realized, reveling in how lost
he was as he watched her every move.

The fly now open wide, she asked, “Want to help me out
here?”

MacCale’s hands were on her in a heartbeat. He took hold of
the waistband of her jeans and pulled them off along with her panties with far
less finesse than he had gone for.

“I want you naked.” She propped herself on her elbows,
looking mighty pleased with the state he was in.

Mac drew a slow breath. It came out in a heated rush. She
sure knew how to tease. Could she take measure for measure?

At his leisure, he started to undress, peeling off item
after item while Lucie watched.

“Better turn down the bed.” Her eyes lifted to his and
locked for the briefest moment before she let her gaze wander to his chest and
down the dark trail of curls over his abs to the length of his cock jutting
impatiently.

Her eyes never made it back to his. They speared right past
him before falling to the Oriental carpet so worn the pattern had faded from
existence.

“Better turn down the bed.”

“Yes. You already said that.”

She let out a breath, half sigh, half self-deprecating
laugh, before scuttling off the bed, all strong, shapely limbs and curvy ass,
and a rack to make an ass-loving man rethink his preferences.

She tugged off the ornate quilt as if willing herself to do
it.

The uneasiness he had felt downstairs made a comeback.
“Lucie?”

Slowly, she turned around to face him.

“What’s your pleasure, Mac? Sexual maneuvers in the dark or
with the lights on?” The odd mood still clung to her even if her voice dripped
seduction.

“You on me with the lights on, honey. Right now,” he grated.

Lucie padded to him, gripped his hand and ushered him next
to the bed. “I have a confession to make. I’m really bad at taking orders, but
the pushy you does make me horny. Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.”

He sat carefully then stretched out on the bed.

She leaned over him, her hands frisking the muscles in his
thighs and hips but steering clear of his dick. “I have to say you look better
than any bedding I’ve ever had. Warm. Welcoming. Smoking hot.”

MacCale’s breathing turned labored as she climbed over him
and positioned her mound above his cock. Watching him hungrily, smiling at him
invitingly, she put a palm over her sex and squeezed lightly. MacCale’s eyes
shot between her face and her mound as she parted the bare pink folds with her
fingers, exposing slick flesh.

“Ah fuck, Lucie, I could die happy just watching you touch
yourself. But I’d rather do it myself.” MacCale extended his arms to take hold
of her hips only to have her grab his wrists and shove his arms to his side.

“No touching. Not yet.”

He growled in horny frustration. “Do you know what you’re
doing to me, woman?”

Her smile turn wicked as she kept her pussy lips open and
let him drink in the sight of the juices glistening at her opening. He had to
fight back a groan as she fingered her clit for a moment before pushing the tip
of her middle finger beyond the juicy entrance. The digit reappeared, wet with
cream she spread on the tiny bud, flicking back and forth, rotating her hips
and lowering them closer to his shaft with every round she made.

And then she was on him, pussy lips parted and gliding along
his cock. She wasn’t taking him in, just sliding up and down his length, coating
him with her juices, making him want to howl with the need to be inside her.

“Mac, look at me,” Lucie whispered, grounding against his
shaft. “And listen close. I want you to slip that thick cock inside my pussy.
Fill me up,” she purred.

“You’ll have to break me in gently ’cause it’s been a while.
Can you handle that? Give it to me one thick inch at a time? It’s going to feel
so good. Like a wet…hot…tight pussy should. And when you’re done, all done,
your cock buried deep inside my body, so deep I’ve never taken a man like that
because let’s face it, you’re a big boy…I want you to fuck me. I want you to
forget about slow, forget about nice and easy and ride me hard. You don’t have
to wait, warm me up or sweet talk me into it. All you have to do is take me.”

She was really pushing it, MacCale thought wryly. Pushing
him and the femme fatale act to the outer limits. Did men really go for that?
If she thought that was all
he
had in mind, she had another think
coming.

He tore his eyes away from the most erotic sight he had seen
in a very long time to witness her eyes boring into his. What he heard in her
voice and saw in her sultry smile never made it to her eyes. Her gaze was too
intense, too focused, too damn…

Controlled. She was in it with her body, but she wasn’t
giving him everything and that wouldn’t do. She could be the paradigm of
analytical thinking but not while in bed with him. He deserved better. And so
did she.

He had warned her. She really should have listened.

Chapter Three

“Whatever it is you’re doing, stop.” MacCale’s voice was
uncut ice sliding over Lucie’s heated body.

His damn intuition. Could he not give it a rest even during
sex?

Lucie stopped moving over him. “I don’t know what you mean,”
she purred, all innocence. He couldn’t ruin this. She wouldn’t let him.

Lowering herself to rest against his chest, she rotated her
hips against him. She felt his hips jerk, his cock hot and thick as he pressed
closer to her.

MacCale growled, a sound so close to a roar Lucie shivered
with the knowledge of what would come next. He was losing it. She was about to
win the fight.

Pulling her to him, Mac rolled her to her back. His hand
gripped her face, his eyes on hers. But it wasn’t an abandoned expression Lucie
saw, it was pure plain hurt mixed with a generous dose of anger.

“What do I mean? I mean I didn’t come here to play games and
I didn’t come here to be played.”

Cold washed over Lucie again as she took in what he meant.
MacCale had felt everything she wasn’t feeling, and he resented it, resented
her for it.

But he still wanted her, she could tell.

“You came here to have sex, Mac. And I agreed to it. That’s
all I agreed to. You still want to fuck and so do I so what’s the problem?”

He sat up to straddle her thighs, balancing himself so as
not to crush her, his erection as strong as ever. Lucie badly wanted to touch
him, feel him in her hand. As if he’d read her thoughts, he took hold of her
wrists, pinning them in one hand. His eyes darted around for a moment before he
grabbed a pillow and peeled off a pillowcase with his free hand.

He wrapped her hands inside the pillowcase. “The problem, my
lovely, is that I don’t want games.” He leaned over the edge of the bed and
managed another dexterous trick by freeing his belt from his slacks with just
one hand. “All I want is you, Lucie. That’s all I want.” And as what he had in
mind dawned on Lucie, he had the belt secured around her cushioned hands and
tied to the bedpost.

Lucie trembled with anger. He was turning the tables on her
again. She trembled with fear, the situation spiraling out of her control and
spinning her headlong into the unknown.

It was all wrong, and so exciting she would rather die than
admit to it.

“And what is this but games?”

“No, loveliest Lucie.” He smoothed his hands down her arms
and to her breasts. He fondled the globes gently, flicked over her nipples as
Lucie fought not to arch and meet him. “This is payback for you trying them on
me.”

He picked his shirt off the floor and fitted the long
sleeves over her eyes, blinding her, enraging her, arousing her further.

Tied down, under his command, her strength and resolution
seemed to desert her. He had asked if she knew what she did to him. He had no
idea how ferociously he could hurt her. How much unbridled passion could harm
her if let free. She needed to get a handle on her emotions and some semblance
of control over him, and she couldn’t do that, not bound and blindfolded.

“I can’t do this, Mac. Not like this,” she pleaded.

“And I won’t be used. You want cock, get yourself a dildo.
You want my cock, you better treat me like a man and not a sex toy.”

“This isn’t sex,” she whispered.

“Oh honey, it’s the best sex you’ve never had. You want to
fuck? You got yourself a deal. You want to be taken? No problem. But there’s
something you forgot. Big boys aren’t easily sated, remember? If you want the
main course, you’re going to have to give me an appetizer.”

His hands descended to her belly, stroked her stomach and
waist softly before his weight lifted. Moving around in the bed, he opened her
legs wide.

“If you don’t want this, tell me now. If it’s pleasure
you’re after, just settle down, relax, and let me give it to you.”

She felt the press of his palms on her thighs as he climbed
them, dipped to the sensitive inner flesh and stopped short of her pussy.

“I’m going to touch you, honey, light and easy.”

Lucie swallowed down a moan at the rasp in his voice, then
another as his hand cupped her mound. He held the hand in place, pressed
against her. Heat emanated from the large palm, the base resting on her entrance,
his fingers just above her clit. She wanted to writhe, force closer contact
when he initiated none, only letting her feel the hot heaviness of his hand on
her.

“Mac?” she whispered.

He said nothing. He cupped her harder instead, pumped his
palm over her, the base grinding against her entrance.

Staring into the darkness of the blindfold, Lucie froze as
the tips of his fingers moved to her clit. Lust overrode confusion. Arousal
dampened all fear. The last remnants of resistance fell by the wayside as Mac
began to circle the swelling nub.

Two digits flanked the hood and milked her, drawing a gasp every
time he pinched her clit between his fingers, an involuntary jolt of pleasure
running through her each time the pressure eased.

“You’re very sensitive. Or it has been a while. It’s okay. I
can work my way around it for a while and still make it good for you, honey, I
promise.”

She bet he could. That was the problem. “You don’t have to,”
she wheezed.

“Oh but I absolutely insist.” His hand lifted, leaving Lucie
without the warmth and feel of him. But only for an instant. His mouth touched
her inner thigh just above the knee. It might have tickled hadn’t he nipped her
flesh with his teeth, pecking his way up her leg. He made his way to her mound,
careful not to touch her clit, stopping only to press his lips on the top of
her slit and give her a kiss before moving over to the other side and making
his way down her thigh.

Awareness tried to pierce through the haze of heat. The
awareness that tomorrow she would regret this. She would regret giving in to
him. But the feel of his mouth on her overshadowed doubt. It made tomorrow seem
a millennium from now. Because for now, there was nothing but the feel of his
warm breath over her mound. A sharp, cool breeze aimed straight at her clit.
Another blown over her wet opening.

Her pussy contracted, her belly caving as a shiver ran up
her spine.

“What are you doing?”

His breath huffed against her pussy, a tiny laugh. “I’m not
very good at this if you have to ask. I’m enjoying you. Very much.”

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on her slit.

“I missed a spot last time, remember? I’ve been thinking
about tasting that spot all week, baby.” His voice was a harsh, fractured rasp
of hunger as he placed another intimate kiss on her flesh.

Lucie froze. The tip of his tongue played with her labia,
lapping, stroking, before slipping between them to taste her opening in
passing.

“Oh god, Lucie, your pussy…” His breath was hot on her wet
folds. He gave her entrance a long, slow lick.

It felt exquisite, his tongue raspy and oh so slow on her
skin as he licked her again, harder, deeper, pumping past her lips and delving
into her pussy.

Pulling at the restraints, Lucie panted, her senses, her
entire body centered on his mouth on her, on the pleasure raging through her.
His lips moved along her mound, his tongue bathing her juice-laden pussy,
swiping through her slit as he savored the meal he’d made of her sex.

His satisfied murmur vibrated against her labia. “Fuck, you
taste fine, honey. I could feast on you morning, noon and night.” He gave her
clit a light, tentative nudge. The touch of his tongue was gentle, barely
there.

She could feel it everywhere, the sensation tearing through
her, stoking a fire she’d feared and fled all her life.

“I’d be a well-fed, well-satisfied man. If I didn’t need to
fuck you so bad.”

Without warning, he put his mouth on her and sucked hard.
Lucie jolted with a cry of pleasurable pain.

He rolled his tongue over her clit in rapid succession,
flicking, stroking, almost violent, almost sending her into release.

Almost too good.

“Oh god, so good.”

Grimacing at the pleasure, Lucie moved her hips, trying to
burrow into the bed and out of his reach.

His head lifted. “You’re in a bad way, baby.”

He pursed his mouth over her clit, pulled it past his lips.
He sucked her softly, gently, tugging at the aching flesh until her head fell
back, her spine arched, her thighs trembling as she fought to breathe, fought
to stay cognizant.

This was all she’d thought of since that fated night at
Boyd’s.

Only this. Only him.

Oh god oh god oh god.

It was heaven. It was hell.

Close, so close…

Lucie moaned, hoarse with desire and ready to explode.

“You like this, don’t you?” he growled against her pussy. “I
fucking love it.”

The tip of his tongue dipped inside her, tasting her deeper
before licking at the juices easing out of her and coating her cunt. He lapped
her pussy as if he were lapping a rare treat, tasting, teasing with every trip
he made between her wet folds, with every pulsating suck at her clit.

“Beautiful. So sweet and wet. So. Fucking. Hot.” He lashed
his tongue over her, once, twice, flicked her clit hard before thrusting deep
inside, his tongue buried in her saturated pussy, sending her senses into
overload.

“I can’t,” she whimpered. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

She couldn’t take it. His mouth on her pussy, his hands on
her body, the chaos he’d launched her into.

She couldn’t stand it.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you.”

He bestowed a kiss on her inner thigh, another on the other
side, giving her a moment. His cheek was hot on her skin as he inhaled her
scent and breathed it out, a long, satisfied sigh. “I got you.”

And as soon as it had started, the respite was over. Mac
pushed her legs wider and parted her folds.

“And you got me, Lucie. You got me good.”

Her clit throbbed, her pussy clenching violently, aching to
be filled, desperate for him, the heat of his mouth, the rasp of his tongue,
the feel of his cock pushing inside her.

A small, almost hesitant lick left her teetering on the precipice
of bliss. Before he gripped her hips, anchored her in place and thrust his
tongue into her pussy.

Almost bouncing off the bed, rushing into release, Lucie
shouted out in total erotic shock.

She couldn’t escape him. And she couldn’t hold back. Losing sense
of place and track of time, she lost herself in the agonizing pleasure he gave
her. He sucked at her clit, licking her pussy until the unbearable sensations
forced her legs to close.

He wouldn’t let her. Holding her open for him, he lapped at
the juices easing out, pushed his tongue back and forth in her clamping cunt.

It was too intense. Too much.

“Mac, please, it hurts.”

Easing his wicked torture, he left her pulsing clit alone to
languidly lap at her pussy lips, only occasionally delving between the drenched
folds and tasting her opening with the tip of his tongue. He didn’t penetrate,
merely touched gently in between light licks.

Lucie floated in a haze, in the warm remnants of more
pleasure than she could ever recall experiencing with a man. But no other man
had devoted himself so fully to her pleasure while taking his and giving her
something so pure and beautiful she didn’t know what to call it.

You are doomed, Lucie Marcotte.

The queen of gloom was doomed, and MacCale Moore was her
demise.

“That was beautiful, Lucie. The best appetizer I have ever
had.”

His mouth lifted, his voice retreating, the bed shifting as
he moved around. She heard the rustle of a foil pack.

“Are you protected, baby?”

Mute, she nodded.

He was about to take her, and then he would own her. He
would make love to her and he would absolutely ruin her. She could try to fight
it, or she could give in and enjoy it, because she doubted she would ever be
the same again whether she resisted him or embraced him.

And it meant she could never let him near her heart or house
again.

“Can you raise your hips for me, honey?” Mac asked in a
hushed voice.

Oh god, maybe next week. “I don’t think I can.”

MacCale’s arm went underneath her and then she was being
lifted, a pillow being slipped under her hips.

“Just trying to speed up things for you, baby. I’d hate to
leave you behind on our first ride together and I’m afraid it won’t be an
extended trip. Seven nights, Lucie. I’ve dreamed of having you for seven
nights.”

He would destroy her, push into her body and plunder her
soul and there was nothing she could do about it.

For now, it didn’t even matter.

I will never have him, but I will always have this. One
perfect night with one perfect man.

This is all I will ever have.

“Such a good girl to finish your entrée. Now let’s see if
you’re ready for the next course.”

She was. He could smell the sweet scent of her need, see the
juices spilling between her legs. He had tasted it on his tongue, rolled it
into his mouth and savored it, relished the tastiest treat he’d ever had.

Drawn to touch her, he lifted his hand to stroke her slit,
running his thumb up and down the wet flesh. A shiver rushed through her as he
touched her clit, her entrance clenching but she said nothing, her thighs open
and slack before him, her pale skin flushed all over, her breathing erratic.

Gathering her cream between his fingers, MacCale rubbed the
crown of his latex-covered cock with her juices, wiped her sugar along the
shaft, and regretted not being able to feel all of her, red-hot and for real,
when he finally took her.

She had been adamant about the use of a condom at Boyd’s and
he would respect her wishes, but for a safety-first kind of guy, he suddenly
felt reckless.