Illicit (4 page)

“Good.”

Fingers between her lips, he pried her mouth open and thrust his penis back inside, giving her what she craved. His cock pulsed, testicles tightening in preparation. He was just as close as she’d been. Looking up at him, never breaking his gaze, she opened her throat and relaxed her muscles. She swallowed, taking him deep the way she liked it.

He jerked back, cursed. His hand tightened in her hair, the pain a sweet, sweet pleasure. “Christ. Do that again.”

She sucked him into the back of her throat and swallowed past the gag reflex. He trembled against her, held her still for just a moment before using his hand to pull her off. He repeated the motion three more times, thrusting deep, pulling back, before he wrapped his hand loosely around her throat.

“Swallow,” was his only warning.

Hot semen jetted into her mouth, splashing against her tongue, the back of her throat. She fought the initial urge to pull away. She took a breath through her nose, swallowed. He kept coming, his hips jerking in time to the explosions in her mouth. Each squirt was less than the one before, so she was able to flick her tongue over the underside of his cock. The entire time, Peter put pressure on her throat, felt her take each drop of his essence inside.

He pulled out, cock still hard. She sat back, realized her fingers were buried in her pussy. The burning need to come had faded in the face of his climax. He pulled her up, drew her hand out from between her thighs. His tongue caressed her fingers, sucked them into the heat of his mouth. Every stroke sent her reaching upward again.

“You taste like honey.”

He walked them backwards, pressed his mouth against hers in a long, passionate kiss. His urgency faded, replaced with an intense passion. He stroked a hand from her shoulder to the small of her back, and the simple caress went beyond tender. This was her reward. Angling his head, he cupped her throat and deepened their kiss. His tongue parried with hers, a smooth, wet glide. When the mattress hit the backs of her knees he ripped their mouths apart and pushed her onto the bed.

She scooted backward, toward the center where she assumed he’d want her. He clamped a hand around her ankle, pulled her in the opposite direction.

“Not so fast,” he said.

His grip tightened and it was the only the signal she needed to stay still. Her heart raced as she waited for her next direction. The hunger in his eyes was almost more than she could take. “We haven’t made it to the part where we get all the way into bed yet. I’m going to taste your pussy first. If you do as I say, I’ll let you come.”

His grip loosened, shifted. Palms against her skin, he stroked his hands over her calves, ever so slowly brought them toward her trembling thighs. She propped herself up on her elbows, watched.

He spread her thighs. A skipped heartbeat later, he dropped his gaze to her mound. As if savoring her, he drew in a deep breath, moaned. Arousal drenched her panties, made the silk cling to the folds of her sex.

“You smell delicious and taste even better.” Inch by inch, his hands caressed a path of pure fire from her knees to her inner thighs, and then back.

A long, torturous minute passed before he knelt in front of the bed. He drew her closer and settled himself comfortably between her splayed legs. In the darkness, something gleamed. Claws. She jumped, tried to scramble back as her survival instinct surged to the surface. She knew, better than most, how sharp leopard claws were.

Faster than she thought possible, his hands clamped on her thighs and he held her immobile. Her chest tightened, and each breath she drew in was rich with his masculine scent.

“Shush,” he soothed. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Lips pressed against her outer thigh and, his gaze never leaving hers, he slid the back of his hand across her hip. He flipped his palm, lightly drew claws over fragile skin. Hard, sharp points scored the flesh, but didn’t penetrate. He didn’t draw blood. Goose bumps rose, and the only thing keeping her from bolting was the silent command in his gaze.

He teased one claw upward, curving it beneath the side strap of her panties. Effortlessly, as though he exerted no pressure, the silk sliced apart. When he did the same to the other side, her hips lifted from the bed on instinct. She wanted more. Peter drew his lower lip between his teeth, never took his gaze off hers when he grabbed hold of her ruined panties and tossed them to the floor.

Like the giant feline he was, his claws retracted in a seamless transition. Human fingernails dug into her legs where he gripped her. He stared through the darkness at her swollen sex and inhaled deeply. Moisture glistened off her thighs, and as she watched Peter licked his lips in anticipation. A new flood of desire leaked from her core. A shiver trembled through her.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured.

He leaned forward and the breadth of his shoulders forced her thighs wider. Cupping the outsides of her thighs, he used his hold to spread her wider and expose her just that little bit more.

Hot breath caressed her sensitive flesh. She drew in oxygen and tried to rein in her out-of-control heartbeat. Every heavy, pulsing throb between her legs drew her that much closer to climax.

“Peter,” she moaned. “Please.”

She closed her eyes, the sight of him so close to her pussy too much for her to bear. She fisted her hands into the soft, cool bedspread beneath her body. He licked her thigh, and the rough rasp of stubble from his chin scratched her tender flesh.

“Please what?” His teeth gripped the spot he’d just licked. Silken hair feathered across her clit, and the contrasting sensation from his five o’clock shadow was heady. She moaned. The need to touch him overtook all caution and she caressed his nape, drew her nails up to scratch through his hair. Her grip changed. She grabbed a fistful, started to pull him toward her goal.

One hand left her thigh, gripped her wrist and pulled her hand away. He looked up and amused pleasure curved his lips into a smirk. “Naughty girl,” he mumbled. “Do I need to tie you up already?”

Tie her up. Was he serious? Her heart hammered at the thought of being completely helpless. She bit her lip to keep from begging him to restrain her, to give her the oblivion she needed.

“Stop teasing,” she said. Her eyes felt heavy, and if she didn’t come soon she was going to spontaneously combust.

“This is my game, my rules. I’m rather enjoying watching the cream leak from your hungry little slit. You’ve got such a pretty, pink pussy. Perfect. I can’t wait to stretch you with my cock, to make you scream.”

His finger trailed through the line of moisture running from the bottom of her slit to her ass. She tightened, eyes widening when he rimmed her anus. He circled the rosette. “You ever been fucked in the ass?”

Unable to form words, she shook her head. She couldn’t breathe, didn’t know if she wanted to.

“We’ll talk about that later. Right now you were begging for something. What do you want, angel?” He blew a stream of air over her clit.

She jerked at the hot, barely-there caress against her clit. He held her immobile, hips pressed firmly to the bed. “Don’t call me that.”

“Too bad. Now, tell me.”

“Taste me,” she said.

“Oh, I’ve tasted.” For emphasis, he licked her thigh, flicked the tip of his tongue against the tender spot between her pussy and her anus.

“Lick my pussy,” she gritted between her teeth, unable to stand the wait much longer.

He chuckled, a sexy rumbling noise. Obviously he enjoyed torture. “That sounded an awful lot like an order.”

When she would have tightened her thighs to alleviate the ache, he stopped her. She whimpered. Her head fell back to the bed as the frustration amped up her arousal to a level she hadn’t thought possible.

“Repeat after me,” he said, each word a maddening caress. “Please, Peter, will you eat my
cunt
?”

She stiffened at the c-word, lifted back onto her elbows and glared at him. Peter met her gaze. Amusement sparkled in his eyes like gems. He was laughing at her! Stubbornness warred with desire. She wanted him, oh God did she want him. But at what cost?

Moistening her suddenly dry lower lip, she opened her mouth, “Please, Peter, will you...” She paused, licked her lip again. Nope. She couldn’t say it. There were some rules a girl just didn’t break, even if her potential lover was hotter than sin.

She shook her head, and the gesture, as simple as it was, knocked some sense loose in her head. “I’m not saying…the c-word.”

Peter laughed out loud. When he sobered, his gaze cut to the door, back to her. One of his eyebrows rose in silent question. Stay and say it, or go home. She hated ultimatums.

Tilting her chin, she shrugged. The laughter twinkling in his eyes faded when she sat up, scooted off the bed. The cold carpet beneath her feet jarred. Without the heat of Peter’s touch, the lingering frost in the room gnawed.

She never heard him move. One strong, muscular arm banded around her stomach, pulled her upright when she would have bent to pick up her dress. She drew in a startled breath that was quickly cut off when his other arm cut between her breasts, tightened. Panic welled, and she struggled to free herself.

She would have better luck fighting a bear. Peter brought her back tight to his chest and held her immobile. She wondered if he used even a fraction of his strength to restrain her. Where they touched, heat invaded. His hand slid down her stomach and, from the inside out, set her skin on fire. He rocked his hips, digging the hard length of his cock against her lower back.

She was trapped, as much by apprehension as she was by lust. The element of danger excited her.

Peter’s hand closed around the front of her neck. He loosened his hold, used a finger against her jaw to force her head to the side. Pressing his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “I did not say you could go anywhere.”

“I’m not going to say it, so I might as well leave.” The words, so strong in her head, came out breathless.

“Oh, you’ll stay.” Peter licked her ear, nibbled. “I’m in charge. You won’t leave this room until I’ve tasted every inch of you. Until I’ve fucked your
cunt,
your ass, until I’ve watched my cum glisten on your skin. You’ll leave when I’m satisfied. You either do what I tell you, or accept your punishment.”

Her womb clenched. “I won’t say it,” she whispered, fought not to arch against him, fought not to moan.

A growl rumbled through his chest, and she knew her defiance turned him on. Peter spun her around in his arms, brought them chest to chest. Where she was soft, he was hard, muscular angles. Behind her back he caught her wrists, pinned them together.

He leaned in, bumped his nose against hers. A hair’s breadth away from her lips, he asked, “How far are you willing to take this? Decide now, because I won’t stop at warm and comfortable. I’ll fuck you hard, fast, make it hurt in the best way possible. I will tie you to my bed and make you beg. I will have your sweet virgin ass. Do you trust me, Eva?”

He pulled away, left her aching for his kiss. He stroked her throat, tightened his hold until she had to fight for each breath. When he looked down at her, a dark lock of his hair swept across his forehead. She swallowed, gaze darting from his eyes to his mouth, and tried not dwell on how devastatingly handsome the possessiveness in his gaze was.

Making her choice, she said, “I accept your punishment.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He backed her toward the bed, away from the room’s only exit.

The warm, heavy weight of his cock dug into her stomach. With every step, the coarse hair on his chest teased her sensitive nipples. They hit the bed, and he pushed her onto the mattress.

From on top of the coverlet, Peter picked up a black silk tie. For a moment, she thought of the funeral, the reason he was in town. He’d brought a suit, laid it out on the bed as if he were going to put it on. Thought vanished when he moved onto the bed. Before she could even think about bolting, he straddled her waist. One wrist at a time, he brought her hands over her head and pinned them against the slats of the hand-carved headboard.

“Don’t move.”

Her thunderous heart nearly exploded. How smart was it to trust a complete stranger to tie her up? Common sense reared its ugly head. She knew nothing about bondage except what she’d read in romance novels. Should she trust this man?

“Don’t I get a word to say if things get too...intense?” she asked, hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake. She wanted this. Wanted to trust him. Wanted him to take everything away. This is what she needed.

One half of his mouth tilted up in a sinful smirk. “Cunt.”

“Cunt.”

The crude word rolled off Peter’s tongue like silky chocolate. Eva’s jaw tightened. She lifted her head to better glare at the naked man pinning her to the bed. Damn his sexy, arrogant ass. “You are such a prick,” she snarled.

Peter’s smirk turned into a full-blown smile and he lowered his head until their noses brushed. The tip of his tongue flicked the bow of her upper lip, passed a trail of moisture slowly across the bottom one. He spoke against her mouth. “By the time morning rolls around, you’ll have worked up to hating me.”

Instead of closing in for the kiss she lifted to meet, he pulled out of reach. Never letting go of her captured wrists, Peter sat back and studied her stretched out beneath him. Where his molten gaze landed, flesh heated. Arousal pinked her pale skin and colored her nipples a dusky shade of rose. It was all she could do not to squirm under his intense scrutiny.

“I’m going to enjoy this almost as much as you are,” he said, picking up his black tie and running it along her inner thigh.

Her breath caught. The silk was cool and liquid soft. In the fabric’s wake her skin pebbled. Peter teased the tie up her stomach, across an achingly tight nipple. Shivering, she moaned and fought not to beg for more.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not yet, at least.

“This is part one of your punishment.” As he spoke, he threaded the tie through the slats of the bed and looped it around the wrists he held. The material, once soft and delicate, now tightened almost painfully to bind her. “When I feel you’ve learned your lesson, I’ll untie you.”

Drawing her lip between her teeth, she looked up at him. Eva hoped to hell he couldn’t tell how turned on she was getting. “And part two?” she asked.

With a hand pressed to either side of her head, he bent. The muscles in his arms bulged and sent her heart racing. Lowering, he stopped a mere centimeter from pressing their bodies together. His stomach aligned with hers, close enough for the hair on his body to brush her sensitive flesh. His chest hovered over her aching breasts, but he didn’t close the distance. Heat and electricity mounted. On top of her. She wanted the weight of his body.

“I didn’t say you could speak,” he growled and slanted his mouth over hers in a deep, punishing kiss.

His teeth scraped her lip and forced her mouth open. He pressed his tongue inside, conquered. She could imagine the same rough, wet pressure against her clit, inside her pussy until she came. Oh, yes. Lifting her shoulders from the bed, she pressed her chest against his and moaned into his kiss.

He skimmed a hand down her arm, and then along the side of her breast in a barely-there caress. Callused fingers rounded over her hip, delved between her thighs. She gasped into his mouth. With teasing, deliberate strokes he played in the arousal leaking from her slit.

Peter ripped his mouth away and drew a deep, ragged breath. Hunger danced in his eyes. Just beyond his need, she caught the glimmering sheen of his leopard, separated from the man by a thin veil. He pressed his thumb against her clit and drew a needy cry from her lips. Pleasure spiked, and her hips moved against his hand.

Shaking his head, he withdrew his touch. “Part two. I decide when you climax. If you come before I tell you, there will be another punishment. If you listen, I’ll give you a reward.”

As if to prove his point, he drew his mouth down the center of her body in one open-mouthed kiss. Cool air wafted over the moisture his tongue left, and the sensations of hot and cold rioted through her. He spread her thighs wide and settled himself at her core. He inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Delicious.”

She pulled at her restraints, desperate to feel his skin beneath her hands and his hair under her fingers. Her breathing sped. The moment he drew the broad, flat surface of his tongue against her clit she stopped struggling. Her body throbbed at the pleasure.

“Oh, God,” she gasped.

His mouth was hot and wet, and so sinfully good. A half growl, half moan emanated from his chest. Peter’s fingers bit into her thighs as he pulled her sex tight against his face and devoured. He scraped his tongue against her clit, sucked.

She came off the bed. A low, feral growl rumbled between them. His hands clamped down on her hips and pinned her to the mattress, assuring his prey could go nowhere. Arms bound to the bed by silk and her lower half anchored by Peter’s hands, there was nowhere to run. Her body tightened, wavering on the edge of an orgasm so powerful it nearly hurt. He changed strokes, stiffening his tongue and then flicking.

Stars danced behind her eyes. Her muscles clenched with each throbbing beat of pleasure. And then, he stopped.

She opened her eyes and tried to remember how to breathe—hell, how to speak. “Why did you stop?” she hissed.

From between her legs, Peter met her gaze. In the darkness, moisture glistened off his chin. He licked his lips, smirked. “You come when I tell you to come. Did you so easily forget the rules? Do you need another punishment?”

Shaking her head no, she struggled to slow her racing heart. “How can I
not
come?”

“Trust me.”

He dipped his head and pressed his tongue into her pussy. Sucking, he thrust inside and caressed some magic spot inside that sent her blood racing. She bent her legs at the knee, scraped her foot on the bedspread. Her tied hands fisted around the slats of the headboard. The harder she struggled not to come, the more intense the pleasure became. Darkness wavered. Where instinct demanded she dive head-first into the abyss, she held back.

“Very good,” he murmured against her, his words opening her eyes and drawing her gaze to the sight of him feasting between her thighs.

He was watching her face, head tilted so he didn’t miss her expression. Drawing a finger through her moisture, he pressed deep inside her core and brought her off the bed.

“You’re so tight.” His voice was deep and husky, a sexy rasp that pushed her that much closer to euphoria. “And wet. Fuck, Eva, you taste like peaches and honey dipped in sunshine.” He slid in two fingers. Back and forth against her G-spot, he made a “come hither” gesture with his digits. The pleasure was sharp, instant ecstasy.

Screaming, she writhed and pulled against her bindings. The fact that she was trapped intensified her pleasure. Peter never slowed. Instead, he sucked her clit into his mouth and shook his head back and forth. There was an abrasiveness to his jaw that scraped against her thigh and honed the sensations tightening inside. He added a third finger, twisted and then plunged.

“Come,” he demanded.

She came. Back arched and head thrown back, the orgasm ripped through her nervous system and left every single muscle quivering. “Yes, Peter, oh, God, yes,” she cried.

“Again,” he growled, sank his teeth against her thigh and bit down.

His fingers pushed deep, curved and withdrew. As if he truly were Master of her body, a second climax stole through her. Over and over, he brought her to one orgasm only to throw her into another. She came so many times she lost count. By the time Peter was satisfied with his work, sweat dripped between her breasts and tears of intense pleasure wetted the pillow beneath her head.

She was only half aware of him leaning over the bed, retrieving a condom from his wallet. Rolling the latex over his erection, he crawled up her limp body and gripped her cheeks in one hand. He held tight enough to purse her lips together. His thumb swiped at the tears still running from the corners of her eyes, a surprisingly gentle caress. She never had time to dwell on any building emotion. In the next instant, he pressed the tip of his cock at her entrance and thrust in to the hilt.

The full-body lethargy she’d felt only seconds ago vanished, and she screamed at the welcome invasion.

“Fuck,” he hissed, pulled his erection almost all the way out and then quickly surged forward.

He lowered his body onto hers fully so they touched from groin to chest. Dipping his head, he kissed her long and deep. Her stomach tightened. The muscles deep inside clenched around his cock, drawing a ragged moan from his throat. Never in her life had sexual intimacy been like this. Hot, sweaty, breathless and wild.

“So...fucking...good,” he groaned and brought a hand under her ass to hold her closer against him.

She wrapped her legs around his narrow waist and held him tight. Wrapped in his embrace, nothing in the world mattered except him and her. The retreat of his cock was unhurried, the rolling thrust forward measured. She knew the slow tempo was his attempt to let her get used to the size of him stretching her to capacity.

He nibbled on her collarbone, pressed a kiss against her shoulder. Each thrust came quicker, a little harder. Each plunge sent bolts of sensation to the deepest parts of her. Lifting his torso off hers, he bent and licked an erect nipple. The sensation spiraled. Every rasp of his tongue tightened her stomach and she clenched tighter around his cock. From hyperventilation, dark spots danced in front of her eyes.

“I think I might pass out,” she gasped.

He chuckled, lifted his head from her breast. “Baby, we’re just getting started.”

Peter slammed forward. Her body rocked, and pleasure spun her nerve endings into a tight knot. Her eyes fluttered shut and he did the quick, hard rocking of his hips again. He worked her body with fast, deep stabs, the gentleness of before a distant memory. Good. She didn’t want any reason to grow attached to her stranger.

“You ever fuck a shifter before?” he asked, the edge in his voice razor-sharp.

It took Eva a moment for higher brain function to kick in. Peter mistook her hesitation and stopped pushing into her. He gripped her face, snarled. A dark, dangerous possession filled his eyes. She glimpsed the hazy outline of the leopard pacing inside him. A low-level hum of energy crackled the air.

“Answer me,” he hissed.

At her silence, he threaded his hand through her hair and fisted the curls. He pulled her head until her chin tipped up toward the ceiling. Pain bloomed. The same pinpricks of pain sharpened the rapture of him inside into her body. He tightened his fist and her already erratic breathing faltered.

“No, Peter. Only you,” she finally managed to say.

A satisfied smile curved his lips, and it matched the possessive gleam in his gaze. The man and leopard now one. “Good. You’re mine.”

Proving his words, he pounded into her at a speed not quite human. Their flesh, slick with sweat, slapped together. He let go of her hair only to draw her legs up until the backs of her thighs pressed against the coiling muscles of his stomach and chest. Cupping her ass in one hand, he pressed in deeper than she’d thought possible, as if this was the only time she’d been fucked like she was meant to be. The pleasure honed, zeroing in and then sending out the first tremors of orgasm.

He thrust again, and again. When something brushed against her clit, she realized he held the base of his cock, his hand measuring each thrust. Was this another punishment to keep her from climax or was he holding back? She glanced away from their joined bodies to look at him. Tension held his shoulders stiff. The same tension clenched his jaw and sealed his eyes shut.

She wanted more, wanted all of him.

“Don’t you dare hold back,” she said, the fierce growl in her voice surprising them both.

His lids snapped open. Iridescent eyes the same shade as a glittering emerald stared down at her. Every single leopard she knew had icy blue eyes; everyone except Peter.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for.” He let go of his cock, plunged just a little deeper.

Her breath caught at the immediate pierce of pleasurable pain. He pushed the thick length of his erection all the way in again, slow and deep. She opened for him. Internal contractions milked his cock, pulling him in and seating him so deep he became part of her.

“Oh fuck,” he cursed. “Are you absolutely sure about this, Eva? I don’t want to hurt you.”

She bit her lip, debated on how much to tell him. How could she when she herself wasn’t even sure? “I’m not human. You won’t hurt me. Fuck me, Peter.”

He growled, lifted his lip enough that she could see the sharp point of his feline canines. “For that, I’m not untying you.”

No longer restrained, tension left his body and smoothed the lines on his chiseled face. Immediately she sensed the calming of his beast. He’d been holding back the entire time. This time, when he pounded inside, the heavy weight of his balls slapped her ass. The tip of his cock hit the mouth of her cervix, pressed deeper.

An unexpected climax stole her breath and blackened her vision. Her body heated, tensed, and muscles spasmed. Wave after wave of pleasure rocketed through her entire being. Peter’s hands tightened on her thighs. He let loose with a feral growl, the sound sending shivers across her arms.

He pushed forward, quickening his thrusts, the glide of his cock in and out seamless. The headboard slammed against the wall. Shuddering, his body tensed. His cock grew impossibly larger, as if the head expanded to notch inside. Like a true feline penis. Shit, was he shifting forms?

Fear capturing her breath, she looked up at him, her panic quickly banished at the sight of his manly face made ten times more handsome in the midst of his climax. The hard ridge of enlarged cock pressed against a spot untouched, rubbed, triggered an orgasm with the force of a tsunami.