Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Unleashed #1-4; Beg for It #1) (43 page)

“Yes,” she moaned.

“Yes, I think you
would. I like the idea of you sucking me on my private plane. And I
think I want your hands free to do it right.” I leaned down and
unfastened her ties.

Looking up at me,
tentative, excited, she brought a hand to my inner thigh, then up to
circle her fingers around my bulging, hard prick. I tensed under the
contact and made a low groan of pleasure. She inched closer,
positioning herself directly between my legs, growing bolder now as
she brought both hands to my member. One hand at the base, she used
the other up at the tip, her fingers gently caressing my head. She
looked at my cock in admiration, as if amazed to see its swollen
length up close, its intimidating size. She licked her lips and
parted them.

I watched her with
heavy eyelids, almost feeling as if I were dreaming. I’d thought
about this so often, spent so many nights fantasizing about Kara’s
mouth hot and wet, sucking my rock-hard cock.

Her first, tentative
kiss nearly sent me over the edge. Fluttery soft, she brought her
mouth to me to explore, to adore. She flicked her tongue out over my
head, then finally took me partially into her eager, slick mouth.

“Kara,” I exhaled
and leaned back, eyes closed to the building sensations. This was
what I wanted. This was what I needed. She took more of me into her
mouth, sucking, swirling her tongue along my rigid length, moving her
lips along me as she withdrew then took me in again. The heady mix of
her inexperience and desire drove me wild. I knew I’d said I’d
teach her, but every second of what she was doing was perfection,
using her mouth to taste and lick and suck. She took her time,
licking along my length, using a tongue and finger to trace a vein,
then back to the tip to swirl around the head and take me back into
her wet depths.

When the pressure
building in my cock, in my balls, grew to a deep ache, I took over. I
brought a hand to the back of her head and began to guide her. I
brought her head down hard, then up again for a moment, then down
again to take in the whole length of my giant cock.

Eyes wide, she worked
hard to take me all in, but I was huge. It took a lot of effort to
suck in every inch of me. My eyes glazed, panting, I watched her, my
erection solid, wide and glistening.

“Suck it,” I
commanded and she did as she was told, squeezing my length in the wet
heat of her mouth and throat. I dug my fingers into her ponytail,
rough with need as I forced her down onto me. Her erect, clamped
nipples grazed my inner thigh, her high heels stuck out as she knelt
between my legs.

I could feel myself
getting close, the tension building, my shaft growing to a giant
length in Kara’s mouth. Slick, sucking hard, she worked me as I
guided her, taking me in full, deep, worshipping my cock.

She looked up at me,
her gorgeous blue eyes half-closed in pleasure as she sucked hard and
brought me into her. I locked eyes with her.

“I’m going to
come,” I groaned. Then I exploded so hard I nearly blacked out,
thrusting down her throat, pumping all of my seed deep into her, my
hand fisted tight into her ponytail.

“Kara,” I called
out, torn up by the sight of her taking me all in, sucking every last
drop, swallowing my entire load. I collapsed back onto the sofa,
panting, shocked with the intensity of it. Kara slowly drew back her
mouth, then licked my tip, savoring her last taste.

“Fuck,” I panted. I
pulled her onto my lap and wrapped both large arms around her,
encircling her tight against my chest. My heart pounded and she
nestled into me. I breathed her in, inhaling her scent, the softness
of her hair, the feel of her so right, so lush and pliant against my
hardness. I brought my fingers down to her glistening sex.

“Did that make you
wet, my Kara?” She nodded against my chest, her hand against me. I
could feel my erection, still pulsing. Damn, I was still hard, even
after that mind-blowing blow job. I still throbbed with desire for
her. How did she do that to me?

She became aware of me
as well, glancing down, her plump lips parted slightly. Those lips
that had taken me in, wrapped glistening around my length, sucking
me, worshiping me. I brought my mouth to hers in a demanding,
possessive kiss, my tongue caressing her, stoking her fires. She
leaned in to me, tilting her head up and bringing her palms to my
rock hard chest. With trembling, urgent fingers, she began fumbling
with the top button of my shirt.

With a growl, I leaned
back a few inches and pulled my shirt up over my head. Her eyes
widened at the sight of my muscled, tattooed chest. I wanted to give
her time, let her explore every inch of me, but not just now. Now I
needed to bury my cock deep inside her wet, waiting pussy. Bringing a
hand to her knees, I tore her panties away and she gasped.

“I need to be inside
you.” Grasping both of her hips in my large hands, I positioned her
over me. I ground her down hard and full onto my huge, erect cock.
Her sex dripped, taking me in deep as I filled her. She screamed and
collapsed against me, grinding down with need even in her surprise. I
held on tight to her hips, thrusting deep into her wetness,
stretching her pussy so tight and hot around me.

Wanton and wild, Kara
began to move, bucking against me, following my rhythm and matching
it with her own. I brought my hands to her ass, grabbing on to her
cheeks as she started to ride me. She drew up, palms against my solid
chest. She rocked and moaned with my thrusts.

“Ride me,” I
commanded. “I want to see you wild.” She moaned and began moving
faster. Grinding harder against me, she took every steel inch of me
into her wet, slippery depths, again and again. Her eyes closed and
her tits bounced as she worked, a glistening sheen of sweat forming
over her naked body.

“That’s it,” I
murmured. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything better as she
moved with abandon, needy and crazed with lust. I fucked her hard,
and she braced herself against my chest, arching her back and angling
her pussy down around me. She grunted, taking as much of me as she
gave of herself, needing this every bit as much as I did, slick and
fast and dirty.

“Yes,” she cried
out. Moaning, grinding on me, I could feel her desire mounting, feel
her tensing around me.

I reached out and
suddenly freed a nipple from its restraint. As the blood rushed back
in, flooding her with sensation, she screamed and I took her into my
mouth, my wet heat kissing, sucking and lapping at her. I freed the
other, bucking into her, fingers hard into her ass cheeks as I sucked
her sensitive nipple into my mouth.

She was so close,
shuddering and quaking against me, around me. I growled in her ear,
“Come for me.” Instantly, she shattered, undone, screaming as an
orgasm ripped through her body. Shuddering, her pussy throbbed and
squeezed around my cock. It brought me to the brink and I came deep
inside of her, thrust after thrust shooting my come deep inside and
filling her completely.

Panting, sweaty, Kara
collapsed against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, hands up
along her back. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, nestling
into me, naked and wonton and satisfied. I couldn’t imagine
anything better.

Kara

“What’s frisée?”
I whispered to Declan, looking up from a large, linen menu.

“Rich people’s
lettuce,” he whispered back, conspiratorial.

“How about endive?”

He nodded. “Escarole,
arugula, radicchio. It’s all salad.”

I cracked up. He’d
taken me to a rooftop garden restaurant on the Upper East Side for
brunch, our first day in New York City. Wisteria and lavender,
crystal and china, this place was right out of a storybook. Without
Declan, I would have felt like a servant snuck into the master’s
quarters, about to be kicked out at any moment for using the wrong
fork. With Declan, it felt like we were both in on the same joke and
I loved every second of it.

Last night when we’d
arrived late I’d been blown away. New York City. So far it hadn’t
disappointed a bit. The hotel Declan had us staying in was so
over-the-top it ought to be arrested for trying to impersonate
Buckingham Palace. We’d rolled up in our limo to manicured shrubs
in ornate planters and a lit awning with what looked like a royal
crest emblazoned upon it. One man in a red jacket with golden
epaulets and matching cap had rushed to open the door. Another
hustled to the trunk to begin removing our luggage while yet another
stood at the ready should I need assistance exiting the vehicle.

The entryway stairs
were covered in red carpet. The elegant foyer had 50-foot high
ceilings with marble and gold inlay and a crystal chandelier the size
of a blue ribbon cow at the county fair. Declan had stayed as cool as
James Bond at a casino table. We weren’t just tourists, we were VIP
guests. He’d done some business with the owners. He’d led me up
past more golden cherubs than I could count into a hotel suite with
10-foot tall windows and plush red velvet drapes framing a
breathtaking view of New York City at night.

The view from the
rooftop restaurant was incredible, too. The greenery of Central Park
was framed by an impossibly packed, high wall of buildings. We
enjoyed our brunch—a light salad for me, something seasonal and
sustainably-raised for him which basically ended up being bacon and
eggs. He entertained me talking about everything we could see in the
city, 5th Avenue, Soho and Times Square which apparently was all
cleaned up, not that I had much with which to compare it.

“Now, you have to
play it cool, Kara,” Declan whispered from across the table. Then
he nodded his head slightly to the left. “Nine o’clock.”

I looked over and saw a
woman in a gigantic picture hat and sunglasses. You couldn’t see
much of her face. She looked slender and pale next to an eager older
man.

“Star of that new hit
Netflix series,” he informed me.

“How do you know?”

Declan shrugged. “There
are always celebrities around here. But in New York, you can’t
look, can’t react. It’s all got to be on the down low.”

The patrons seated
around me were like no people I’d ever seen before. The women
seriously looked like large heads on top of skeletons. I’d never
been that self-conscious about my body, not overweight seemed good
enough. These women made me look like an overfed farm animal. But in
my world, most of them wouldn’t even pass inspection with their
bones sticking out like that. None of them looked like they’d make
it through the winter.

“Do these women eat
anything?” I whispered again, using the giant menu to partially
hide my lips.

“I think it’s
mostly frisée,” Declan agreed. “And gin and tonics.”

Next to me, I couldn’t
stop glancing at a woman with perfectly clear, smooth skin, her
blonde hair in a bun without a strand out of place. Both her skin and
her hair were pulled up and back, tight. On a Tuesday morning in June
she wore a midnight black wool Chanel suit, nylons and pumps. She
might both weigh and be 95. I tried not to gawk, but I’d never seen
anything like her.

“I think you’re
safe,” Declan whispered over to me, seeing my fascination. “She
only drinks virgin’s blood. And we know you’re not that.”

I would have balled up
my napkin and thrown it at him, but I guessed this was the kind of
place that didn’t cotton to that kind of juvenile behavior. I
scrunched up my nose at him instead.

Looking around, I had
to admit that I felt a moment of doubt. I definitely hadn’t gotten
the color memo. “I should have bought more black clothes,” I
murmured.

Declan dismissed my
worry with a big hand. “Just be yourself.”

I laughed, easy for him
to say, Mr. Big now with his real estate empire. I was still just a
rancher from Montana.

“I’m serious,”
Declan continued. “Here’s the secret: never let them make you
feel less-than. You’re not. In fact, they want what you have.”

“What’s that?”

“Open air. Free
range. There’s nothing like the feel up on a Montana ranch.”

“I didn’t know you
still felt that way.”

“Of course I do. It’s
in my bones. I’ve just figured out how to sell it.”

Our moment, smiling at
each other, recognizing our common ground, was interrupted by a long,
blood-red manicured fingernail trailing along Declan’s shoulder.

“Declan!” A woman
slunk up to his side. The way she said his name made it sound
intimate, just the two of them. She bent down and air-kissed him on
each cheek. My mouth popped open in surprise. And, OK, jealousy.

“Courtney.” Declan
acknowledged her, cool as always.

“I’m so glad to see
you here. It’s been forever. I’ve been so bored.” She
emphasized random words when she spoke, so dramatic. Who was she to
him?

“I’d like you to
meet Kara Brooks.” Declan gestured to me. “She’s visiting from
Montana.”

“Montana!” Her
heavily-tweezed eyebrows shot up and she looked at me like I had a
contagious disease.

“Hi, there.” I
waved feebly, instantly transported back to the seventh grade
lunchroom, tray in my hand, unsure where to sit.

“Listen, we have to
talk about Saturday.” She turned her attention back on Declan.
“It’s a disaster. The caterer quit last week. I’ve been
scrambling.”

I narrowed my eyes.
That woman wouldn’t know scrambling if it came up and hit her over
the head with a baseball bat. She was wearing some sort of strapless
one-piece black silk thing, fitted at the top and floating into
wide-legged pants at the bottom, plus elaborately strapped, heeled
sandals. I’d be willing to bet she’d never done a scrap of hard
work in her whole life.

“I have to run, but
I’ll be in touch.” She brought her hand up again to Declan’s
shoulder while she said it. She definitely meant touch.