Stripping Her Defenses (14 page)

Read Stripping Her Defenses Online

Authors: Jessie Lane

“Meek, little Kara blossomed into a woman who wants a little excitement. You want to know what I think of that?”

“What?” I breathed out.

He grabbed the collar of my thin, pink baby doll T-shirt and tore it down the middle, exposing my lacy covered breasts. “I think I’m gonna give you so much pleasure you won’t care if we’re being watched or not.”

He pulled the tatters of my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms before he threw it on the floorboard. Pushing me back until my skin was pressed against the window, his hands went immediately to my waist as he slid them around the back to my skirt’s zipper. His mouth went straight to my right nipple where he sucked my bud into his mouth until I was almost positive he’d left a hickey there. Then he gently bit down with his teeth at the same moment I heard the soft sound of my zipper descending.

He switched his mouth over to my left breast, licking the skin above the lace then over the fabric until he was sucking that nipple into his mouth. My hand grabbed the handle above the door as I groaned at the exquisite sensation, so lost in the feel of his hot mouth on me I barely noticed as he slid my skirt off my hips and down my legs. He didn’t bother to take my panties off as he once again filled me with his fingers. “Fuck, you’re soaked, babe.”

He pumped into me as he dragged his mouth up my chest to my neck, driving me mad with kisses along the way. I was already on the verge of a second orgasm when I heard movement then the sound of foil crinkling. I couldn’t really see much of his body because his face was buried in my neck as he licked and sucked my skin up to underneath my ear, but I did see the arm of his hand that wasn’t filling me moving around as if he were unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down.

As a second of sanity broke through, I started to wonder if this was smart. Should I really be doing this with a man that I loved, yet was no longer with?

Completely torn as to if I should stop him or not, I was leaning towards the no when his teeth bit down on my neck. The sharp nip sent a spike of pleasure straight through me, sending me over into an orgasm that had me trembling from head to toe. My body felt boneless, almost liquid, and if Riley had asked me to move at all, I wouldn’t have been able to lift a finger.

Apparently, I didn’t have to worry about that because he sat back, giving me the perfect view of his long, thick, condom covered cock before he moved me himself. Pulling me away from the door, he flipped my body around until I had my hands pressed where the door met the glass and my knees up and braced on the backseat. I watched as my breath created a small fog on the glass in front of me as he once again slid the crotch of my thong over to bare me to him. Then he thrust into me hard, causing my body to rock forward until I moved one of my hands up onto the glass to brace myself. This wasn’t the slow love making we’d done in our marriage. No, this was dirty, raw, unbridled fucking… and I loved it. He pulled out to the tip and then slammed back into me, proving that the gentle husband I’d had wasn’t in control right now. A wild beast of a man was there instead, taking what he wanted. Proving to me he could back up the words he’d spoken moments before when he promised to screw me silly until I never forgot the feeling of him inside me.

He was doing just that.

Leaving his impression.

Branding me in the most primitive way as his.

“More!” I found myself pleading.

He took one hand off my hips and leaned forward a little to slide his fingers against my head, gathering my hair then fisting it to turn my head sideways until he had the side of my face pressed against the glass.

“You like to be watched?” Thrust. “He might come back.” Two quick thrusts. “Or maybe a customer will wander back here and stand where they can see you, wishing it was them fucking you instead of me.” A hard slam.

God, his words should have freaked me out, but all they did was turn me on. I was burning now. The stretch and fill of Riley inside of me was throttling me into something so big, so consuming, that I wasn’t sure if I was going to come out the other side of it intact.

“Please!” I cried desperately.

“This is mine, Kara.” Another slam. “I’ll never share it with another man again, because it’s fucking meant to be mine! Understand?”

“Yes! Please, Riley. Oh, God, please!” I wailed.

He started hammering me so hard I felt it all the way through my body with my cheekbone rhythmically pushing against the glass. The sound of hips slapping against my ass was like music to my ears. It was an erotic soundtrack, including the sounds of him moving in and out of me and our labored breathing.

I was overloaded and unsure of how much more I could take. My body already felt as if it was hurtling towards a devastating orgasm I didn’t know if I could handle when he moved again.

Reaching with his other hand to brace over my own on the glass, he slipped his fingers in between mine while he kept up his fast, punishing pace.

Bringing his lips to my ear, he whispered, “All mine, babe, but you should know, he could be in there, watching the camera as I take what’s mine. Let him watch what’s mine because he’ll never touch it again.”

It might have been sick and twisted, yet that imagery sent me over the edge. It was not only the thought of Ice possibly watching us have sex, but the ridiculous thrill of the possessive statement he was sending. I screamed against the glass with Riley’s hands clutching my hand and hair, holding me in place as we exploded together.

I felt blown into teeny, tiny pieces.

Somehow, with Riley covering my back, he felt like the superglue that could hold me together.

Chapter

13

Riley

For the first time in eight years, I slept like the dead without alcohol being involved. The reason why was lying in my arms, breathing softly, still asleep. I’d woken up an hour ago yet refused to move a muscle. There wasn’t anything in this world that could drag me from this bed right now.

My thoughts wandered back to last night. I had Kara practically boneless and comatose after I’d done my best to show her we were far from over in the SUV. After taking my shirt off and putting it on her, I carried her to the front seat and strapped her in. When I asked her for directions to her place, she’d come out of her fog to argue with me for five minutes.

Then she gave me the directions.

Once we arrived at her apartment door, she blocked it with her body and asked for her keys back. We argued for another five minutes about me going in with her before a wrinkled old woman came out from her own apartment across the hall and asked Kara if she needed to handle ‘this boy,’ too.

This made my eyebrows rise for more than one reason. First, because I was standing there without a shirt, and it was obvious Kara was wearing it. Secondly, because I was easily three times the lady’s size. I didn’t know the woman, who was old enough to be Moses’s sister, but she had gumption. I liked it. I also liked that she was looking out for my Kara.

Kara huffed, looked up to the ceiling, and muttered something that sounded like a prayer about interfering old broads and pushy, annoying men while stepping aside, allowing me to unlock her front door and enter.

I quickly walked into her apartment—not to be nosy, but to check and make sure it was safe—and then walked back to the front, finding Kara still standing by the door. She looked pissed with her arms crossed over her chest, a foot tapping, and her eyes glaring at me.

This was not old Kara behavior, and I liked it.

Before, my wife would have never argued with me. She would have meekly done whatever it was I wanted her to do and followed in my wake. This new Kara had attitude. She was feisty, and it made my dick hard.

While her attitude was cute, I wasn’t going to let her sling it my way when I had better plans than having her start another argument. As a result, I ignored her glare, walked up, bent and put my shoulder into her belly, and then threw her over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

Banging her little fists against my bare back in frustration, she screamed, “What are you doing, Riley!”

“Moving on to round two.”

“Round two?” she squeaked.

Closing the distance to her bed, I tossed her onto it as she gave a small scream. Then I watched as she bounced once before settling.

“Yeah, babe, round two.” I toed off my boots, unbuttoned my pants, and then pushed them down with my boxers, stepping out of them as she watched me.

Her throat moved as she swallowed nervously. “How many rounds are we talkin’ here?”

Bending down, I grabbed her ankle, dragging her to the edge of the bed so I could reach up and unzip her skirt. Pulling it down over her hips, along with her thong, I answered, “I figure I’m in the fight of my life, so I’m gonna go all twelve rounds if I have to. That way, if I can’t
talk
some sense into you, I’ll
fuck
it into you instead.”

Her eyes got adorably big and round at my answer. I waited for her to object, but she didn’t say a word. It gave me hope that I was getting through that thick skull of hers.

Not giving her a chance to come up with some new argument, I crawled over her body until I was settled between her thighs. I planted my hands above her shoulders, bracing myself so I didn’t crush her.

The subtle scent of the perfume she’d always worn hit me. Running my nose up her neck to take in the aroma better, I murmured, “I used to buy you that perfume every year for your birthday. I’ve missed the smell of it on you.”

Her soft voice called my name, becoming the last thing I let her say that wasn’t involved with what I was doing to her.

Kara moved, lifting her head off my arm, bringing me out of the memories and back to the present.

“What time is it?” she mumbled.

“Seven.”

“Ugh, did you even look at a clock, or are you still a walking tick-tock freak of nature?”

I tightened my arms around her, moving the arm she wasn’t lying on up so my hand could cup her breast, swiping my thumb over her nipple. Kara moaned at the contact. Her nipples were sensitive, and I’d almost forgotten how much I once loved playing with them. She arched into my touch, which pressed her bottom into my hardening shaft. It didn’t matter how many times I’d had her last night, I was ready to take her over and over again.

I had been serious last night when I had told her I’d fuck the sense into her since every time I had tried to talk to her she had been evasive. That wasn’t the only reason for wanting her, though. No, I just plain wanted Kara. She was the woman made for me. The only woman who completely satisfied me inside and out.

On the rare occasion, over the last eight years, any woman I’d tried to lose myself in had felt wrong. At times, it even made my skin crawl because, even though we were divorced, it had felt like I was cheating on my wife.

I’d come to learn the hard way that my Grandpa Pat had been right when he’d told me sometimes a person was fortunate enough to meet the person made for them—their soul mate. What’s more, if they ever lost that person, their soul was equally lost.

Therefore, lying here with Kara, my hands wandering over her body as if it were my personal amusement park, I felt more alive than I had since before she had left me. Alive and… home. She was my home. I’d been lost, homeless, for far too long. I’d never take her for granted again.

When my hand slowly drifted down her rounded abdomen, my fingertips sliding under the waistband of her underwear, Kara jumped out of my arms and off the bed like a startled cat. Putting one hand on her waist, pointing a finger with her other hand in my direction, she scolded me like our English teacher used to when I hadn’t been paying attention in class.

“Oh, no you don’t, Riley Sullivan! You are
not
getting in my panties this morning.”

Propping my head up on my hand, I replied, “I’m not?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not happening, buster.”

“Why not?” I asked solemnly.

Kara’s jaw dropped open, and she looked at me like I was a crazy person who’d escaped from an asylum. “Are you kidding me? Do you realize how many times we had sex last night?”

I knew it would piss her off; nevertheless, I couldn’t help the smile that tipped one side of my lips up. “Yup.”

She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “Yup?
Yup
! That’s all you have to say?”

Snorting at her antics, I asked, “What else did you want me to say, babe?”

She slammed both of her hands down on her hips this time and snarled at me. “How about ‘I’m sorry I abused your vagina!’ ‘I’m sorry I acted like a starving man at an all you can eat buffet!’ or ‘I’m sorry I rode you harder than a bull at a rodeo!’ ” The last line ended on a screech.

“I definitely rode you longer than eight seconds, sweetheart.”

As her hands went to her hair, she gave a small scream of rage. Then, like only an offended woman could pull off, she gave me her back with a huff and stomped to her bathroom.

Too bad her huff and puff stomp was ruined by her walking slightly bowlegged.

The door slammed shut while I did my best to hold in laughter, knowing if she heard it through all the banging around she was doing in there, it would only set her off again.

A few minutes later, the shower came on, so I rolled onto my back, placing my hands behind my head as I waited patiently for her to finish.

Forty-five minutes later, she came out of the bathroom, steam following her, hair wet and dripping down her back, and a white towel wrapped around her. She was quite possibly a new example of the definition of ‘wet dream.’ She was ignoring me as she started across the room to where her dresser sat in front of her bed. I’d taken eight years of being ignored by Kara. I’d be damned if she ignored me for one more minute.

Knifing up on the bed, I moved so fast she didn’t have time to react as I grabbed the back of the towel she was clutching and pulled her backwards to me. She gave a small scream of surprise, yet didn’t fight me when she landed in my arms so I could roll her underneath me on the bed.

Kara glared at me after I settled on top of her with my body in between her thighs. “I get it, babe; you’re sore. That just means I did what I meant to.”

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