Your Darkest Desires (Four Complete Short Erotic Stories Of Different Flavors) (4 page)

Dina’s answering grin was slow and evil. “Why do you think he’s wearing a tie?”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to marry her or throw her into the ocean, but I was immensely grateful I didn’t have to make that decision right then. Placing a light kiss on my cheek, Dina sauntered away, murmuring, “I’m coming for you, hunky lawyers.”

I smiled at her retreating figure, and my amusement at the situation grew when Brett turned around, not looking the least bit surprised that his sister had dumped him at the bar.

“I take it she told you why I’m here,” he said, his eyes fixed on the tumbler of scotch in his hands.

My voice stayed even and didn’t betray the slightest hint of anticipation as I replied, “She did.”

“Wonderful.” He swigged most of his drink in one go, and I watched in fascination as the tips of his ears turned a wonderful, bright red. Grimacing, he asked, “Should I tell her this was a ridiculous idea now, or after you’ve kicked me out of here?”

Screw being in control. He was too adorable for words, and he deserved to be put out of his misery. More importantly, I deserved to celebrate my big day with a bang. “Well,” I drawled, unable to keep the grin off my face. “There’s a good chance we’re both going to get thrown out of here before the night ends, so maybe hold off on telling Dee how crazy she is.”

Brett spluttered and that dark blush spread through his cheekbones, all the way down to his neck. I was willing to bet my Christmas bonus that if I got a look at his chest, it would be flushed, too.

My mouth went dry at the image, and giving into impulse, I wrapped his tie around my fist and pulled him closer. His eyes were wide and I was immensely pleased to note that the black had almost drowned out the pale blue. “Just answer me this,” I whispered, trailing my palm along his abdomen. “Do you want to be here?”

His fists clenched and unclenched, and with a ragged sigh, he brought his shaking hands to rest at the curve of my hip. Looking me right in the eye, Brett said, “More than anything.”

Without another word, I led him to the coatroom, ignoring Dina’s knowing smile and the many inquisitive looks we got from the other attendees. Paul, the regular coat-check person, looked curious but not altogether surprised to see me pulling a man by his tie.

“Ms. Danvers,” he greeted, tilting his head to one side. “Would you like me to get your things?”

“No.” Without looking away, I went on, “I will give you two hundred dollars to keep yourself and everybody else away from here for the next thirty minutes.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll make it forty-five, just to be safe.”

Brett made a choked noise behind me, but I gave Paul a brilliant smile. “You’re a star,” I told him, all but yanking Brett into the dark room with me.

“Pass that on to Emilio,” he shot back, pulling the door closed behind me.

I blinked a couple of times, letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The racks were spaced evenly, and I was mildly surprised to find that most of them were stuffed beyond capacity; either they were smaller than they looked or there were more people at my party than I’d anticipated.

The feel of silk bunched around my knuckles reminded me that I had more important things to worry about, and with a slight shake of the head, I moved us away from the door.

The air in the room smelled musty, and as I walked Brett to the farthest wall, I felt my head swim at the myriad scents – not restricted to perfume – wafting off the coats. My nose wrinkled as I turned around, finally relinquishing my hold on Brett. He looked disappointed for an instant, but when his gaze dipped to my hands loosening the knot on his tie, his breathing became heavy.

“April,” he began, but I cut him off with a sharp look.

“No talking,” I told him, slowly sliding the tie out from under his collar. I stepped forward, my blood humming when he didn’t make a move to back away. I reached around him and pressed my breasts firmly against his chest, loving the way he swallowed over and over again. Behind his back, I slid the cool silk between my fingers, and through lips that were suddenly too dry, I murmured, “Put your hands behind your back.”

Brett complied immediately, sending a hot burst of pleasure up my spine. Our gazes met and stayed locked as I twined the tie around his wrists and bound them together. “Is that okay?” I asked when I was done.

His arms flexed as he tested the tie, and I was so mesmerized by the rippling muscles that I almost missed his quick nod of affirmation. I turned us around and nudged him against the wall, aroused beyond measure at the sounds of our combined breaths. I pulled his shirt out of his trousers and began unbuttoning it, still moving at an agonizing crawl, and I refused to let myself get distracted by the number of times Brett licked his lips.

Too soon and not soon enough, his shirt fell open and I drew in a quick breath at the spread. I’d been right earlier – his body was undeniably perfect. His skin might have been pale, but the unyielding tone of his muscles and the light smattering of hair more than made up for it. My fingers twitched at my sides, and with a slightly helpless sigh, I took in every inch of his skin, baffled as to where to begin.

Then I spotted an old scar along his left hip – most likely, from when he almost impaled himself following me and Dina into an abandoned building – and without conscious thought, I dipped down and ran my tongue along the raised flesh. Brett pressed his head against the wall behind him, his stomach trembling as I nipped his skin. He tasted like soap and sweat and male skin, and suddenly ravenous, I dragged my mouth all over his torso, pausing only to scrape my teeth against his nipples. He hissed as my lips found the hollow of his throat, and I smiled against his skin.

“April,” he whimpered, knocking his head against the wall. “Please, please, please let me touch you.”

I bit down on his earlobe in a silent rebuke. “I thought I told you not to talk.”

“In my defense, I didn’t think you were serious!” His voice cracked at the end, possibly because I had palmed his erection through his slacks; the fabric felt damp under my hand, and it was all I could do to maintain my unaffected air.

Keeping a steady pressure, I moved my hand along the length of his cock and back, whispering into his ear the entire time. “Do women normally tie you up when they’re joking around?”

He squinted at me in the dark, attempting a baleful glare – the effect was somewhat diminished by the sheen of sweat coating his chest. “No,” he bit out, jerking his hips when I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of his pants. “Then again, I haven’t known many women like you, so maybe my data is off.”

My fingers encountered burning hot skin, and Brett nearly came off the wall. With a small smile, I nudged him back into place, squeezing the parts of him I could reach. He was muttering a litany of curses under his breath, only to warble off into nonsense when my thumb brushed his dripping cockhead. I repeated the motion again and again, staring at the way his veins jutted out of his neck. There was something inherently sexy about a man lost in the throes of passion, and the fact that it was Brett Sullivan – devout follower and Boy Scout extraordinaire – blissed out in front of me sent a dizzying pulse of lust through my body.

Ignoring his disappointed groan, I pulled my hand away and worked his pants loose with the other one. I waited until his gaze found mine before bringing my previously occupied fingers to my lips. His glazed expression morphed into something more primal as I licked and sucked my digits clean; I didn’t bother hiding the shudder that wracked my shoulders at the musky taste of Brett on my tongue.

After a fair bit of fumbling, his slacks were finally undone, and eager to get the next part started, I dropped to my knees, pulling all his clothes from the waist down with me. His cock stood out, thick and proud and visibly pulsing, and I wet my lips, already hungry for more.

I stroked him from base to head, fondling his balls and thrilling at the way he thrust into my grip. “Would you like to know more women like me?”

“Fuck no,” Brett declared, his hips canted towards my head. “I know you and you’re more than enough.”

Shifting closer, I smiled up at him. “You say the sweetest things, Brett Sullivan.”

He opened his mouth – presumably ready with a snappy comeback – but I opened mine first and swallowed him down as far as I could go. He didn’t have much to say after that.

Gripping the base of his shaft, I closed my eyes and inhaled. The rich flavor of musk shorted out my brain, and I moaned around him, digging my fingers into the firm globes of his ass. I traced a vein with my tongue and gently sucked the head between my lips, feeling Brett’s shiver resonate in my bones. I gave him a quick second to catch his breath before moving again; this time, I didn’t even think about slowing down.

Soon enough, his cock was slick and fiery in my mouth, and a series of desperate, pleading cries were the only sounds Brett managed to make. I stroked the parts of him I couldn’t devour, and with concentrated effort, I pushed him deeper and deeper into my mouth, humming as I felt the tip of his erection rub against the roof of my mouth. Every now and again, I licked off a bead of moisture from his slit, buzzing with each taste. His hips pushed forward, so gently I knew it was instinctual, and every unintentional thrust drove me just a little crazier than I had been before.

My lips had barely flitted over his sac when Brett gasped, “Stop, stop, stop, now.”

My lips felt bruised in the best conceivable way, and as I got to my feet, I purposefully rubbed against his bare skin. He shuddered visibly and I nipped the rapidly pulsing vein in his neck, thrilled at the effect I had on him.

“April,” he whispered, pressing his mouth to my hair. “Please untie me.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

I loosened the tie around his wrists, brushing the inside of his wrists with my fingernails. I’d almost unknotted the tie when he shook his hands free, and with a vicious growl, he grabbed me by the waist and flipped us around. My breath rushed out of me in a startled gasp, and I didn’t have the chance to do more than draw a quick breath before his mouth closed over mine.

In that moment, it seemed as though my bones had melted completely, leaving behind a needy, messy version of myself, one that could only hold onto Brett and hope for the best. He tasted like scotch and salt, and I moaned as he sucked my tongue into his mouth. His hands squeezed my ass – even in the middle of the hottest kiss of my life, I thought it felt possessive, and I loved it – and he dragged my lower lip between his teeth as he shoved my underwear down my legs.

There was no warning, no signal, and definitely no asking for permission. I’m not even sure how it happened. One minute, I was standing with my feet on the ground, and with my tongue in the most talented mouth I’d ever encountered. Not a minute later, my legs were wrapped around Brett Sullivan’s hips, and even with my back to the wall and his breath on my cheek, I knew that he was buried balls-deep inside me.

I rested my head against his shoulder, trying to push air into my lungs. My nerve endings were alight with pleasure and I could hear an echo of hearts beating way too fast. Everything was too bright, too loud, too much, and with the last dregs of my energy, I clenched around him and gave on final order. “Move.”

Brett huffed out a laugh. “As you wish.”

It was my fault, really. I’d completely forgotten what an overachiever Brett was.

What happened next was not sex in the way I’d become accustomed to having over the past few years. It was not slow, it was not methodical, and it was definitely not boring. Instead, Brett gripped my thighs hard enough to bruise and began to pound me into the wall. His thrusts – he didn’t stroke, not for a second – were brutal, his pace was unforgiving, and the sweat cooling on our skin made the entire thing a little sloppy.

I loved every microsecond of it.

My mind went blank as his movements became more erratic, and I dug my heels into his ass, trying to give as good as I was being given; it was impossible in my position, since I had zero leverage, but it was the thought that counted. He kept trying to pace himself, to stay in control, to make it last longer. I kept pushing back, urging him to give it up, all the while riding a blissful high that I knew would only get better.