Suck and Blow: Party Games, Book 1 (11 page)

Her chest squeezed tight, a wave of prickling heat pressing on her heart. “Alec…” she began.

With another grin, he reached behind his head and yanked his shirt up over his body, and all thoughts of who had made whom come went out the window.

Oh. God.

Frankie’s mouth went dry. Her sex flooded with wet desire. He was perfection. She’d never used that word to describe a man before. She’d never met one to deserve it. And in the business she was in, and the family she was from, she’d met some pretty fucking hot guys—models, actors, singers—but Alec…well, Alec made them all look plain.

There was a latent strength to his body that made her pulse quicken. Broad and well-defined shoulders spoke of hours of swinging a pickaxe, wielding a shovel or lugging rocks and bags of soil and other landscaping needs around. His torso was lean and sinewy, the ropey muscles understated and yet, at the same time, undeniably powerful. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, just a perfect body forged from hard physical work and manual labour.

She swallowed. Bloody hell, he was like visual Viagra.

A sinful smattering of soft golden hair covered his wide, hard chest before trailing down into a teasing line over abs that could have been the definition of a six-pack. A line that picked up again just below the shallow dip of his navel to disappear under the waistline of his jeans.

Frankie let out a breath. Damn, she wanted to trace that line with her lips, her tongue.

Wanted to follow it to its conclusion. His cock.

Wanted to take that cock in her mouth and—

Alec unzipped his fly, toed off his boots and removed his jeans.

Before she could stop herself, Frankie was on her knees, crawling toward the end of the bed, her boots and trousers bunched around her calves like annoying shackles. An exasperated, practical part of her mind told her to stop and get rid of them, but she couldn’t. She was too impatient for Alec’s cock to bother with clothes. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around his erection, dragging her thumb over its tip, smearing the pre-come beading there.

He hissed in a breath, his stomach hitching, his balls rising. “Frankie…”

If he was going to say anything else the words were lost on a groan as she closed her lips over the head of his shaft and sucked, slowly sliding down his length as she did so.

He was so big and long. She closed her eyes, loving the way he filled her mouth, the head of his cock pressing to the back of her throat with a nudging insistence. Bringing her other hand to his balls, she cupped each one, giving them a gentle tug as she drew her mouth back up his cock, slowly, slowly, the sound of his ragged moan turning her on more than she could ever imagine.

The bulbous dome of his cockhead stretched her lips wider and, with a little flick at the sensitive knot of flesh under its rim, a flick that made Alec’s hips buck forward in a convulsive jerk, she slid back down again.

“Christ, Frankie.” Alec’s hands brushed at her hair, pulling it back from her face and holding it in a tight fist. “Watching my dick disappear into your mouth…it’s almost as good as
feeling
it disappear into your mouth.”

As if to prove his words true, a spasm claimed his cock, a slight twitch that pushed him farther into her mouth. She hummed her approval. She wanted to make him burn with the same pleasure he’d given her over and over again.

Pulling back up to his distended head again, she drew a breath through her nose and then plummeted down his length, pushing herself past her limit until she felt the swollen form of his balls at her lips.

Alec’s raw groan echoed in her ears. “Sweetheart, I’m about one second away from coming. If you don’t want to—”

The hoarse words became a guttural curse as she sucked hard on his erection.

His hips bucked forward, pumping her mouth full of his rigid flesh. His fists tightened in her hair. He held her still, forcing her to remain motionless. A shudder rocked through him, a quaking deep within his body.

She felt his control waver. His balls contracted. Turned hard. His breath burst from him in a quick succession of shallow pants. “Christ, no,” she heard him ground out, his stomach muscles trembling. “No, I wanted…” His hands gripped her hair, “…longer…give you more…” Another shudder passed through him. “Fuck, I can’t…”

A wicked beat pulsed through Frankie’s core. Her womb grew heavy. She knew what he wanted, what he wanted to give her. More. He wasn’t thinking of himself, he was thinking of her. Her.

Ignoring the command of his hands, she sucked on his cock once again, sliding as deep as she could go.

Alec came. With a raw groan and a violent thrust, he came in her mouth, his seed splashing the back of her throat, filling her with his release.

She took him all, swallowing every thick wad as it spurt from him, kneading his length with the flat of her tongue as she did so. He was sweet and salty at once, like the tequila she’d consumed earlier but oh, so much more potent. So much more intoxicating. She was addicted already. With one taste, she knew she would never get enough. Knew she would want no other.

Just him. Just Alec.

“Christ, Frankie.” Alec’s mutter sounded above her head and she realized his hands had relaxed in her hair, his fingers stroking at the back of her neck with tender care. “I didn’t mean to…” He paused, a curse rasping in his sharp exhalation. “I wanted to…”

Frankie withdrew her lips slowly from around his cock, her fingers taking their place in a gentle caress as she straightened to her knees before him. “
I
wanted to,” she said, giving him a smile. “So shut the fuck up.”

He burst out laughing, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “Hmm, The Gun is in charge, is she?”

She nodded, enjoying the little flip-flop of delight his laughter caused in her belly.

He lowered his head to hers, his lips curling in a slow, crooked grin. “Let’s see about that, shall we.”

Without warning, he pressed one large hand to her chest and pushed.

She landed flat on her back, her breath escaping her in a giggle as Alec yanked her right foot upward, unzipped her boot and pulled it off. He tossed it over his shoulder, his stare holding hers as he did the same to her other. She caught her bottom lip with her teeth, watching him crawl onto the bed enough to snare her already undone pants with his fingers.

Two seconds later, she was naked from the waist down, the cool air of Alec’s bedroom rippling her heated flesh. Her nipples pinched into twin points, and she swallowed a whimper, reaching up under her shirt to cup her own breasts.

“Uh-uh,” Alec shook his head again, climbing on top of her to straddle her hips. “I didn’t say you could touch yourself.”

The rebuke came a second before he grabbed the hemline of her shirt and tugged it up over her head.

“Now,” he said, gazing down at her. “Put your hands above your head, Frankie.”

A heavy throb leapt to life between Frankie’s thighs at the arrogant order. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Whether it was the blunt dominance in his answer that made her heart quicken and her pussy constrict, or the blazing hunger in his face, she didn’t know. Or care. She did as he told her, laying her arms flat on the bed above her head, her hands loosely open, palms to the ceiling.

Alec’s nostrils flared. He brushed his fingertips over the tips of her nipples, sending a shiver of pleasure through her.

“Very good. Now, this is the way it’s going to go, Ms Winchester. I am going to explore every inch of this sexy, fuckable body of yours from head to toe. I’m going to put my tongue wherever I want to. I’m going to bite whatever I want to. I’m going to suck whatever I want to, and you’re not going to move.”

His fingers circled her nipples this time, giving each one a firm, quick pinch.

Her moan of delight escaped her and his nostrils flared again, his eyes hot with obvious pleasure at her carnal response to his touch.

He drew in a steadying breath, and Frankie couldn’t miss the growing pressure on her belly—he was getting hard again. Really hard.

“You’re going to lie here,” he continued, his voice almost a husky growl, “and let me do whatever I fucking want, do you understand?”

Frankie stared up at him, her pussy, hell, her anus, constricting at the utter eroticism of his statement. “And if I do move?”

A wicked gleam filled Alec’s eyes, the sides of his mouth curling into a slow smile. Devilish, that was the only word Frankie could think of to describe it. Devilish.

No, there was another. Untamed.

“If you move, I will flip you onto your stomach, lift your butt into the air and smack its tight, firm perfection until you beg me to fuck you.”

Frankie’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened. Her pussy didn’t just constrict at his promise, it squeezed so tight so fast she almost came there and then.

She’d done some wild things in her time—screwing the Prime Minister’s son on the steps of the Opera House when they were both seventeen probably took the cake—but letting Alec smack her? What would it feel like? His hand slapping her bare arse? Oh God, did she want to know? Did she?

Before she could answer the licentious question, Alec slid down her body, his lips burning a path over her breasts, her belly, past her navel, over her mons, her inner thighs, until he came to her feet.

She lay motionless, arms stretched above her head, gazing at the ceiling and its intricate moldings, her heart hammering, her lips parted. What was he going to do? Suck her toes?

Warm lips touched the sole of her right foot. Just that, a light kiss on the arch of her foot and it was enough. She whimpered, the sound loud in the room’s silence.

A tongue flicked over the arch of her left foot, just as light as the kiss on her right had been.

Again, a whimper slipped from her, her skin rippling with an unfathomable thrill at Alec’s unexpected touch.

She closed her eyes, part of her aching to move, to feel his hand on her arse, another part wanting nothing more than to feel him conquer her body one section at a time.

He travelled up her calf, pushing both legs apart with his hands as his lips explored the sensitive dip at the back of her knee. She bit back a moan, her fingers curling into fists with reflex action. Damn it, how could having the back of her knee kissed turn her on so freaking much?

Move. Just move. Sit up and bury your hands in his hair and make him smack—

He traced his tongue over her sodden folds, over her swollen, throbbing clitoris and the enticing thought was shattered.

“Oh, yes…”

Her nails drove into her palms. And again when he suckled a little on her clit. She ground her teeth, a prickling wave of raw pleasure rolling through her. She lifted her backside a little off the bed, enough to grant Alec greater access to her pussy.

“Are you moving, Frankie?”

His low murmur made her still. Or maybe it was the feel of his thumb rubbing over her clit where his tongue had only just been.

“Alec,” she whispered, “I…”

He dipped into her slit again, bathing her folds with his moist tongue. A shudder quaked through her core—tight and insistent. She ground her teeth together, the urge to arch her back, raise her hips and push her pussy harder to his mouth almost making her move. But she kept still. For as much as the thought of Alec smacking her made her sex flutter with wanton lust, the imprisoning control he’d exerted over her body—being tied to the bed without rope or cuffs—made her heart pound and her soul sing. His control over her, his domination over her was unlike anything she could describe. If someone had pressed a gun to her head and demanded she vocalize how she felt at this very second, trapped by Alec’s words and her own desirous submission, she wouldn’t be able to.

She didn’t understand the reaction. She only knew she loved it. She loved…

Alec stroked his tongue up the shallow line of her belly to her right breast, flicking her nipple before nipping it with his teeth. His body hovered over hers, the turgid length of his cock nudging her thigh. Its hard pressure on her leg made her head swim, the slick sensation of his pre-come on her flesh stealing her breath.

She flexed her fingers, fighting the urge to bury them in his hair. To hold his head to her breast. “Oh, God, Alec,” she murmured, another wave of pure need making her tremble. “Your mouth on my nipple feels so fucking good…so fucking
right
.”

As if to taunt her, Alec lifted his head from her breast and grazed a path to her shoulder with his lips. He nibbled a string of kisses over its curve, working his way up to her ear, the tip of his cock drawing a line of wet pleasure up her thigh to her hip as he did so.

“You feel so fucking right
in
my mouth, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. “I could suck on your gorgeous tits, your sweet cunt, until the sun comes up and still wouldn’t have tasted my fill of you.”

She whimpered, her belly hitching. Her pussy constricted. Her womb grew heavier, swollen with hot tension and want.

He continued to travel up her body, his lips scoring a path up her extended arm until they found her fingers. He unfurled them with his own fingers and pressed the tip of his tongue to the centre of her palm as he did so.

Liquid shards of delight shot through her, spearing into her body from the simple contact down into her very soul. She moaned. Who would’ve thought her palm was such an erogenous zone? Now she understood all those corny movies where the hero made the heroine gasp with such a kiss.

It was insanely erotic.

But he didn’t linger on her palm. He slid even farther up her body to capture the pad of one of her fingers with his teeth and lips. The shift in his position aligned his chest with Frankie’s mouth and, unable to stop herself, she lifted her head slightly from the bed and closed her lips around his right nipple.

The small tip of flesh pebbled immediately, Alec’s hissed intake of breath causing her pussy to squeeze again. She sucked hard on his nipple before rolling it between her teeth.

“Jesus, Frankie.” Her name was nothing but a groaned growl rumbling low in his chest. “You moved.”