Unmasked (Revealed #1) (8 page)

This man not only looked like a god, and was built like one too, but he was now proving that his skills at pleasing women were also off the charts.

The combination of tongue, fingers, and his complete control was too much for me to deal with and after just seconds of attention, a tightly coiled spring inside me burst, causing me to spasm against his mouth as wave after wave of pleasure swept over me. My head thrashed around and I clenched around his unrelenting fingers as he continued to thrust them into me, scissoring and twisting them to draw out my climax until I was almost sobbing from the intensity of it all.

Blimey. I was completed sated, and my head, body, and heart were spinning. I’d never climaxed with that intensity before and the knowledge that a complete stranger had been the one to do it made me blush to my core. Not to mention the volume of the noises I’d been making – what was that about? I was usually relatively quiet in bed, so to yell, cry, and groan like an animal was just so unlike me. Mind you, it hadn’t seemed to bother him. In fact, every time I’d moaned or mewled he had upped his efforts even more, so perhaps being a bit vocal had its benefits.

I felt utterly exhausted in a wholly pleasurable way, and was considering if it would be acceptable to lie back on his desk to rest, when he stood up and leant into my field of vision, his handsome, angular features sending another small shudder of desire through my body. Seeing my sleepy eyes, my mysterious stranger slowly shook his head as a wicked expression emerged on his painfully handsome face.

‘I’m not finished with you yet,’ he promised, as he looped his fingers into the waistband of my knickers and swiftly pulled them off my body.

I was now completely naked and half lying on the desk of an almost total stranger. A flicker of shame began to permeate my consciousness, but I immediately forgot the concern as my gaze was drawn to him locating and pulling his zipper down, before stripping off his trousers with swift, precise movements, leaving him stood in just a pair of tight black boxers. Tight black boxers with a very large bulge protruding at the front.
Holy shit.
I could see so much lovely taut skin and softly defined muscles that I barely knew where to look first. He was just hotness personified.

My eyes widened and I definitely got an area to focus on in the next second, because he dispensed with his boxers and it became abundantly clear what the cotton had been hiding – this guy’s large build clearly extended to all areas of his anatomy. And I mean
all
areas. Not only were his thighs broad and muscled, but there was a rather magnificently proportioned manhood nestled between them. Blimey. I think I was actually hyperventilating, my breaths sounding all raspy and breathy as I sat there eagerly awaiting his next move. His eyes were hooded when they briefly flicked to mine as he pulled his wallet from his jeans pocket, dumped the trousers on the floor again, and flicked through it to retrieve a condom.

Donning the protection, he tossed his wallet aside, leaned over me so I was well and truly caged in by him, and laced a hand through my hair, bringing his lips down to mine. As soon as our mouths collided the fire within me re-ignited, sending fresh heat coursing between my legs and warming the skin of my entire body. Nudging his hips between my legs he tilted me back so I was fully lying on the desk, and then palmed his arousal and positioned it at my opening. As I felt the heat of his erection rub against me I let out a long, breathy gasp, the feeling of his solid tip so amazing that I nearly came from the anticipation of how it would feel buried within me. My expectation was then replaced by the real thing as he began to edge himself inside me.

Mr Sex God was barely halfway in when he paused, his rough breath hot against my face as he cupped my chin and leant over me with a deep frown, ‘Are you a virgin?’ he questioned, his tone gritty and strained from holding himself back, but his thumb displaying the complete opposite as it gently stroked my cheek.

Embarrassment flooded through me and my face flushed. ‘No … but it’s been a while ….’ This was the complete truth. I was far from a virgin, having had several partners before, but I’d been so engrossed in work over the past few years that my love life had taken a serious back seat. In fact, the only vaguely masculine thing to have graced my bed in the last four years was my vibrator. ‘I’m OK, it doesn’t hurt.’ Which was a marginal untruth, because he was definitely stretching me, but I was so turned on that there was no way I was going to ask him to stop.

Nodding, he placed a brief kiss on my jaw. ‘You’re so fucking tight,’ he groaned.

That’s because you are so big. I thought, but I was completely beyond coherence by this point. As he edged himself in another inch and paused again, I noticed a sheen of sweat building on his brow and began to wonder if I was
too
tight, so tight that he found it uncomfortable. But as he suddenly pushed himself fully inside me with a lusty growl, I suspected not. ‘God, you feel so good …’ he muttered against my neck, his hot breath tickling my skin and adding to the eroticism of the act.

Pulling out slowly, I was expecting a similar, slow thrust back in, but he instead gripped my hips, and after staring at me for a second or two, hammered forwards in one almost brutal thrust until he was buried to the hilt.

‘
Ohmyfuckinggod
!’ My gargled words came out in one strangled cry as my body desperately struggled to stretch and accommodate his considerable size and the speed with which he had just impaled me. Thankfully, after a second or so where I had expected to feel pain, I realised that I was more than adequately lubricated from his mouth and my orgasm.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked in a growl. Was I? He was flipping huge, and my body already felt full, stretching in places so deep inside me that I didn’t even know they existed. Panting, I clutched his shoulders, my nails digging deep as I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to relax my straining muscles around his twitching cock.

‘Allie? Christ, woman, you’re killing me. Are you OK?’ he barked, his voice so roughened that I pried my eyes open to find a sheen of sweat on his brow and his jaw tense from the strain of holding himself back as his eyes burnt into me.

Wiggling my hips slightly to accommodate him, I felt my slight discomfort gradually seeping away as the pleasure of his intrusion began to overwhelm me, making my entire being feel lax. Managing to relax the grip of my fingers on his back I stroked his cheek, swallowed hard, and then nodded.

‘Yes. God, you feel amazing.’ Giving a curt nod, he then began to move inside me, thankfully slightly slower than last time, allowing my body to fully accept him until
I
was the one trying for harder movements by raising my hips into each thrust to increase the speed and depth of his penetration.

Suddenly our breathy, lusty bubble was burst as we were disturbed by a shrill ringing to our right. The mystery man glared across at the ringing phone, banged one of his fists on the desk beside me in irritation, and looked into my eyes intently. His breath was coming just as hard and fast as mine, but instead of continuing, he shook his head as if clearing his mind and pulled out of me so quickly that I winced at the sudden loss. ‘Get dressed. I’ve been expecting this call, I need to take it.’

With that, he simply stepped back, flicking the condom into a nearby bin as he went, pulled his jeans over his still hard cock, and without even another glance, turned his back to me and picked up the phone.

Laying there on the desk, still stark naked and spread-legged, I stared at the wide expanse of muscled back in complete shock. How flipping rude was that? Not to mention confusing. He’d seemed so into it until his phone rang that I’d almost describe his lovemaking as generous. The way he’d paused while I adjusted to him had been incredibly thoughtful, poles apart from his grouchy behaviour around the house that I’d witnessed so far. But as soon as the phone had rung he’d snapped straight back to being shut off again.

Who was on the phone? Was it his girlfriend? Or a wife calling to check up on him? I was flummoxed and still struggling to understand what on earth had just happened, but seeing as he was clearly waiting for me to leave the room I snapped my legs closed, grabbed my clothes, and left without looking back, hurrying to the privacy of the guest room flushed with shame and perilously close to tears.

Slamming the door, I flung my clothes on the floor and headed straight to the en-suite. I was so desperate to clean away the feeling of smut still lingering on my skin that I flicked the taps on and stumbled straight into the tumbling water without even bothering to wait for it to warm up sufficiently. Immersing myself under the lukewarm water, I grabbed a bar of soap and began to scrub furiously at my body in an attempt to clean off any traces of that man that might remain on my skin, all the while cursing myself under my breath. Having sex on a desk with a man I barely knew – what the hell had I been thinking?

Cleaning between my legs with a frown, I shook my head at my stupidity. Any pleasure I’d had from his talented fingers and my amazing climax had now been tarnished by his appallingly rude behaviour, and I rubbed at my poor abused skin extra hard to try and cleanse myself of the guilt that our encounter had left on me.

Shaking my head, I climbed from the shower and wrapped myself in a large towel, pulling it tightly around my body like a protective shell. Tucking my chin into my chest I stood for several minutes, dripping and fuming. How could I have allowed myself to be drawn in like that? I was usually sensible where it came to sex, but that bloody man and the lure he had over me was completely unfathomable.

Glancing up through the open bathroom door I could see it was still snowing heavily, and felt myself crumble inside. So it looked like I’d be stuck at least another day, then. I wasn’t sure I could cope with another twenty-four minutes in the company of Mr Half-Fuck-You-Crazy-And-Then-Demand-You-Leave let alone twenty-four hours.

Grimacing at my predicament, I realised that I was being overly optimistic if I expected this snow to clear up in a day – it was at least three feet deep in places and still falling. Things could get really awkward between us if we didn’t clear the air soon, and wasn’t that just an understatement. We’d just had sex – albeit unfinished sex – on his desk before he had unceremoniously chucked me out – it didn’t get much more awkward than that.

Sighing heavily, I began rubbing my damp hair and decided to try and be mature about it. We were both consenting adults, and it was just sex, after all. Admittedly rather mind-blowingly good sex, but still, just sex. Once he was off the phone I would talk to him, try and smooth things out so we could get over this strange connection between us and move to being civil for the next few days while I was stuck here. Nodding my head decisively I piled my hair up inside a small towel and wandered into the bedroom to dress.

Plus, it would probably be advisable to find out the name of the man who I had just given free rein over my body to, I acknowledged with a self-derisory scowl.

Over the next twenty minutes I wasted time by brushing and trying to towel dry my hair more thoroughly. I knew I was secretly just trying to delay the inevitable meeting, but my hair
did
need drying, so I began searching in the drawers and wardrobe in the hopes of finding a hairdryer. After five minutes I concluded there wasn’t one, so the towel would have to do. With the length of my hair, it would take an age to dry. In fact, I’d probably be going to bed with it still wet.

I hung my dirty and still slightly damp clothes over the radiator and followed through on his earlier order by sorting through the pile of garments that the house owner had left for me. As pissed off as I was with him, I couldn’t help but smile at these options – they were all enormous. But at least they were dry and warm.

Holding up a pale grey T-shirt I lined it up with my shoulders and saw in the mirror that it practically came to my knees. Sighing, I pulled it over my head and accepted the fact that I was going to look like I was wearing a flipping tent until I’d washed my own clothes. As I pushed my head through the soft cotton I was immediately surrounded by the heady, spicy scent of him, and the sudden smell caused me to sigh and push the material to my nose for another, deeper, inhale. Drawing in a long breath I smiled as I briefly drowned in his fragrance; he might be a nameless, miserable sex god, but wow, did he smell good. Predictably, my mind immediately wandered back to our liaison on his desk … he kissed rather well too, not to mention the other skills he had with that tongue of his …

Argh!
I must stop thinking about him like that. I shoved my hands irritably through the arm holes of the T-shirt and set about digging through my handbag for my face cream, before letting out a squeal of delight as I saw a pair of yoga leggings in there. I’d shoved them in just in case I got sweaty when cleaning and wanted to change for the drive home, but I was so thankful for them now. Judging from the size of the gargantuan T-shirt, the tracksuit bottoms he’d left out would be useless. They’d probably come up to my armpits.

Luckily, I also carried two spare pairs of knickers in my bag in case of feminine emergencies, so I pulled on a fresh pair and donned my leggings. No spare bra, unfortunately, but I wasn’t averse to wearing my bra for a few days in a row and at least it was still dry. Selecting a navy blue fleece jumper, I pulled it on, giggled at how long the sleeves were, and rolled them each up several times so my hands poked out the bottom.

The last items I selected were a thick pair of warm, woollen walking socks. Pulling them on I smiled at how big they were – they would be perfect as impromptu slippers – but once again as I tried to roll them into some usable size I was reminded of other areas of his anatomy that had also been rather large. And hot. And
hard
…

Grunting in irritation at my inability to focus on anything other than the man lurking somewhere in this house, I jumped up and walked towards the dressing table to put my watch back on. A glance in the mirror showed that I looked like a complete ragamuffin, so thinking on my feet, I grabbed my snow-dampened clothes and headed to the kitchen intent on washing them. I wasn’t brave enough to ask the owner if I could use his washing machine – I hadn’t even seen one since I’d arrived – but once I was in the kitchen I found some hand soap under the sink and washed out my knickers, jeans, and jumper before wringing them out and putting them on the radiator in my room. This time I was careful to unfold and spread them properly so hopefully they’d be dry by tomorrow. That way at least I could look normal again, even if my roiling emotions felt about as far from normal as possible.