Authors: Callie Harper
“Ah, Anika.” I drew
back, keeping my fingers on her, circling around her nipple but not
touching. Aching, pointed and dark pink, it testified to her arousal,
her growing need. “You’re so responsive.” Watching her as I did
it, her wrists trapped under my large hand, her eyes already closed
in desire, I brought my fingers to her peaked nipple. And I pinched.
Her mouth opened more
and she moaned, one of the deep, throaty moans she’d made last
night. The sound I’d kept playing for myself all day, hearing it in
the shower while I stroked my long, thick cock until I came. Down
again with my mouth, I took her sensitive tip into my heat and
sucked, then licked, then bit. She shivered, starting to pant.
“Ash,” she moaned.
I liked hearing her say my name like that. I planned to hear it a lot
more during the next month. “We could get caught.”
“Yes, this is really
dangerous.” I swept my hand along her side, down to the high slit
of her dress. No nylons, nothing but creamy, soft skin as I slipped
my hand along her inner thigh. “We could get caught any second.”
Her breath hitched in her throat as I worked my way up, feather-soft,
up her thigh until I brushed against her sex.
Slowly, I drew a finger
across her panties. Wet and hot to the touch, my Ana, so ready for
me, so eager. I growled deep in my throat. Pushing the strip of silk
to the side, my fingers found her slick sex. She gasped as I did it,
twisting under my grasp.
“You’d better keep
quiet, Anika.” I slid my fingers along her pussy, working her,
coaxing, circling at her swollen clit. “You don’t want to get
caught.”
“Ash,” she moaned
again, this time more throaty, more urgent.
“Have you thought
about how I did this to you last night?” Inside of her, I drew a
finger up, deep. So hot and tight, so dripping wet for me. I couldn’t
wait to do more, bring my tongue down to her, feast on her. She’d
taste so good, I knew she would. And what would it feel like to
plunge my hard cock deep into that soft, soaking heat? To take her
completely, her legs wrapped around me as I thrust into her all the
way to the hilt?
She started moving now,
tilting her pussy slightly toward me, pressing into my touch, needy.
“You like how I touch you, don’t you?”
“Oh!” She turned
her head to the side, flushed, shocked at my dirty talk, at the
responses I drew from her.
I hissed as I felt her
slick heat. “I can’t wait to taste you. But right now, I want you
to come on my fingers.” She moaned as I stroked her, deep and
intimate. “Are you going to come on my fingers, Anika? The way you
did last night?” Faster, harder, I fucked her with two fingers,
sensing that was what she wanted. She needed me to pin her down and
make her come for me, hard, right there, in the hallway up against
the wall.
“Do you want to come
for me?” Up inside of her, hard, two fingers, I thrust in her pussy
while pressing on her clit. She was so sensitive, so wet, so
desperate, the sounds she made as I stoked her desire.
“I’m…we…”
“No, we shouldn’t
be doing this.” I watched her as I spoke, her eyes closed, lips
parted, breath coming in harsh pants. I’d never seen anything more
beautiful. “And you shouldn’t come on my fingers. But you’re
going to, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she cried
out, her nipple so hard and aching for my touch, but I wouldn’t
free her to do it, not yet. I’d keep her trapped, one hand on her
wrists, the other on her pussy and enough distance between us I could
watch every second of her gorgeous face when she surrendered into her
orgasm.
“Come for me, Anika.”
Plunging two fingers deep up inside of her, I could feel her
shuddering, her quivering build and then break under my command,
swelling up and cresting over her as I pressed into her clit.
“Oh! Ash!” she
called out as she came, obeying my order, coming hard and full on my
fingers, her juices dripping down my hand.
“That’s it,” I
praised her and she shuddered again. I brought my mouth down to hers,
drinking in her cries as the waves hit, the intense pleasure wracking
her body as I continued to stroke, drawing every last ounce of it out
of her that I could. With Anika, I was a greedy man.
“So good.” I kissed
her throat, letting her hands drift down, dreamy, to my shoulders.
“Oh, Ash, I can’t
believe…” She couldn’t really speak, couldn’t manage to
string together a coherent sentence. Exactly how I wanted to keep her
every second of every day for the next month.
“There you two are!”
Lola burst through the door. My body shielding Ana’s, I let her
dress fall back down and quickly tugged the top back up. “Save it
for the cameras, kids. Don’t waste it on an empty hallway.”
“What are you still
doing here?” I didn’t like how guilty Ana suddenly looked, upset
and even a little scared about getting caught. She had to know, she
was with me now. I didn’t have to follow the rules, and neither did
she. She was with a rock star now, baby. It was playtime any time we
wanted.
“It’s family photo
time!” Lola sang out. “You two have got to get front and center!
Chop chop!”
Groaning, I drew a hand
through my hair and adjusted myself. Ana had come but the raging
erection tenting my pants still strained for release. Ana smoothed
her dress, tugging and pulling.
“You look perfect,”
I assured her, and I wasn’t just saying it. The slightly tousled
look to her hair, the pink flush to her skin, nothing like an intense
orgasm to take her glow and turn it up an impossible additional
notch.
“Come!” Lola
beckoned us at the door.
I couldn’t resist. As
I pressed a hand to Ana’s lower back, guiding her toward the door,
I leaned down and murmured in her ear, “You already did.”
She blushed
appropriately. And, happily, even with our schoolmarm hustling us
away, she still looked pretty pleased. As well she should.
“Family photo time,”
I whispered to her as we re-entered the ballroom. “I know what I’ll
be thinking about as I smile for the camera.”
She gave a hushed
laugh, soft and intimate. Yeah, this was a good thing. Lola was
wrong, we weren’t going to save it all for the cameras. I had a lot
of plans, and they involved lots of time far away from prying eyes,
doing the kinds of things Ana would only do with the guarantee of
privacy, no record at all. Just between us.
Ana
I’d never seen
anything like this private black tie ball hosted by one of the more
prominent families in New York. Everyone was dressed like they were
attending a red carpet awards show. The champagne glass in my hand
felt so heavy it had to be real crystal. Who used real crystal for a
party of hundreds of people? What would the bill for broken glasses
be, alone? Never mind paying for the never-ending platters of hors
d’oeuvres, the copious free alcohol flowing, the countless wait
staff, the decorations.
The Christmas tree in
the corner of the room stretched all the way to the ceiling and
overflowed with ornaments positioned just so. Opulence and shimmer
abounded everywhere you looked, though owls seemed to be the main
theme. Popping out among the branches I spotted a bunch of ornaments
with white fluffy feathers and glittering beaks. Even the Charlie
Brown tree Jillian and I had bought outside a bodega in Brooklyn and
lugged up the three flights of stairs had set us back $70. How did
these people have so much money? I’d never seen such a thing.
“You doing all
right?” Ash asked, by my side as he had been all night. Including
in the hallway. A flush of heat stole over my entire body at the
memory. What that man did to me, I’d never experienced anything
like it. “You want anything else? Gram has some salmon and…” He
craned his neck looking over at a giant banquet table decked out with
trays, “anything else you could possibly think of. Want to go check
it out?”
I shook my head. “No,
thanks.” Shame I wasn’t more hungry. My Aunt Irina would want me
to fill my purse up with dinner rolls. Every time we went out to eat,
she’d tuck an extra ketchup packet in her purse. Because you never
knew.
I wondered if Ash’s
grandmother had ever encountered a ketchup packet in her entire life.
Though she didn’t seem too high and mighty. She’d seemed
surprisingly friendly when we’d met, inviting Ash and me to tea.
I’d have to ask the PR team about etiquette when taking tea with an
older British woman, but something told me they’d have no idea. How
to strategically flash your va-jay-jay to paparazzi while exiting a
limo, the proper way to plump up your lips and pout while angling for
the camera, that they knew. Not so much the traditions of elders.
“Want to go check out
the band? They’re really good.”
“I’d love to.”
Ash held my hand,
leading me through the crowd. It seemed to part for him, but I
guessed that happened a lot for a rock star. Funny, I hadn’t known
him long but I hadn’t seen much of the strutting cock-on-the-walk
yet. I’d seen him hiding under my desk in a library, greeting his
grandmother with affection and getting accosted by stuffy and
displeased-looking older relatives. It was cute, I had to admit. I’d
have to watch it with thoughts like that.
I could already tell,
Ash was too good at the romance angle of this arrangement. Just the
way he’d looked at me when I’d exited the limo had taken my
breath away. When he’d first seen me tonight, he’d gazed at me
the way every girl dreamed a man would look at her one day, as if I
were some sort of celestial creature dropped down from above, beyond
gorgeous in every way. Only Ash had enough of a carnal glint he
didn’t make me feel like too much of an angel. He made me feel like
he wanted to cherish, worship and adore me, only with Ash I had a
feeling that would involve a whole lot of licking, sucking and
finger-fucking. If only I could manage to feel less turned on by that
thought.
He led me right up to
where the band played at the far end of the ballroom, loud enough for
people to dance nearby but not so loud as to deafen conversation in
the rest of the party. How did the hotel get that exactly right?
There must be a prescribed Waldof-Astoria decibel level.
“This guy on bass.”
Ash pointed out a tall, dapper looking fellow clearly enjoying
himself playing an upright bass. “He’s good.” The whole band
sounded great to me, playing upbeat swing standards people of all
ages could enjoy.
“He’s pretty cool.”
I smiled, enjoying the jaunty tilt to his hat. Even in a tux, he had
the whole hipster swing vibe down with a goatee, red suspenders and
polished wing-tip shoes.
Ash scowled a bit.
Jealous? That meant I had to tease him. With a sigh, I continued. “I
wish he were my date tonight.”
“What?” There was a
hilarious sharpness to his voice. I couldn’t help it, I broke my
guise, a peal of laughter rising up.
“Well.” Ash
recovered himself, straightening his tux that needed no
straightening. “I mean, I guess that guy would be fine to hang out
with. If you liked hanging out with guys old enough to be your
father. But, Ana.” He turned to me, looking strangely serious. “You
shouldn’t date musicians.”
I had to laugh again.
“Said the musician.”
“Yes, that’s why
I’m saying it. We all suck. Nothing but late nights and touring and
groupies. It’s not for you.”
“OK, Ash.” Settle
down, I wanted to say, but I turned my attention to the band. I got
it. He didn’t want me getting attached to him. He was warning me
off, setting boundaries. Letting me know that whatever had happened
out in that back corridor didn’t mean anything. None of this did. I
was hired help.
“Asher.” His
grandmother appeared by his side, looking impressively grand and
lively though I guessed she had to be in her late 70s. “Why don’t
you join them and sing us something.”
“What?” For a
famous singer, Ash looked shocked at the request. “You’ve never
wanted me to sing at this party before.”
“I’d love it.”
She smiled at him and I could already tell, she was going to get what
she wanted. I bet she always did. “We all would.” She gave me a
quick look and I realized she wanted me to join in the persuasion.
“I’d love to hear
you sing, Ash.” I meant it, too. I’d heard him enough times
through my earbuds while walking down the streets of New York City.
What would it be like in person?
“Yeah?” He looked
at me, the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. What a mouth. I
loved it when he kissed me. And earlier, he’d said he wanted to
taste me. I didn’t think I’d survive that. OK, grandmother
standing a few feet away. I needed to fan myself and reign in my
thoughts.
“Let’s have some
Frank,” his gram decreed. Without waiting for Ash’s green light,
she raised an index finger to the lead singer. Just that slight
gesture caught his attention. He knew who was signing his check that
evening. At the end of the current number, he excused himself for a
moment and hopped over to us.
“Wonderful music
tonight.” Ash’s grandmother sparkled at him.
“We’re having a
grand old time.” He looked it, too. I bet his earnings for this
party covered some nice presents under his tree this Christmas.
“Would you be so kind
as to let my grandson sing a number?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
He turned and suddenly seemed to realize who he was standing next to.
“No shit!” he exclaimed, a hand to his forehead. “Sorry.” He
looked back at Gram, realizing he’d cursed.
“I understand.” She
nodded her forgiveness.
“Hey, man.” Ash
extended his hand. “You guys sound great.”
“Wow, what are you
doing here? I didn’t have any idea—”
“Asher’s my
grandson.” Gram sped things along. “Now, if you’d be so kind.”
“Yeah, yeah.” The
band leader gave himself a little shake, clearly trying to pull
himself together.