Invitation to Seduction: Open Invitation, Book 1 (10 page)

“Take them off,” she whispered.

He slipped a finger under the elastic and slid the panties down slowly. They clung to her pussy for a moment before pulling free. When he reached her ankles, his mouth close to her apex, he blew on her.

She clutched his shoulder. “Oh God, Stephen.”

His gut clenched with need. “Step out of them.”

She lifted first one foot, then the other. He slipped the delicate lace into his back pocket. “Souvenir,” he whispered, when she tipped her head.

So close, so sweet-smelling. He wanted to taste her flesh, the swell of her breasts, the gentle curve of her belly, her inner thigh, the back of her knee. He waited, letting her lead.

She swallowed half the champagne, then set the glass next to his on the table. Straddling him, she settled onto his lap. He eased back against the sofa, his hands on her hips.

“I want to kiss you, Stephen.”

“You can do anything you want to me.”

She cupped the back of his head and put her lips to his. He let her control, let her taste him, let her deepen the kiss. His fingers flexed against her hips as she took him with her mouth. Soft, gentle, wet, and warm. She nibbled his lower lip, sucked his tongue, then fully opened to him, inviting him in. She gave him the sweetest, hottest kiss he’d ever known. Her fingers played his face, her breasts caressed him, and her thighs hugged him. She kissed with every part of her body.

He didn’t know how much more he could stand.

She pulled back. His lips followed hers until forced to part from her. Rising up, she lifted her long skirt over her hips, allowing room to straddle him completely. Hot arousal scented the air. His. Hers.

She licked her lips, held his gaze. “I want to touch myself for you, Stephen. I want you to watch.”

He gripped her thighs, squeezed, his fingers flirting with the tops of her stockings. “Jesus, God, please.”

* * * * *

I want to touch myself for you, Stephen.

The thought made her heart race with self-consciousness. His hot, dark eyes and hoarse voice were the reward. Debbie had planned this. Desiree wanted to execute the plan. If she didn’t, she’d never forgive herself.

She cupped her breasts, traced the nipples through the bra, then pushed the lace aside and circled each peak with the tip of her finger.

“Lick your finger and make them wet.” His low, rough command coated her pussy with cream.

She trailed a finger down her abdomen and dipped in for the moisture, then rubbed it into her nipple.

His hips bucked, and his fingers dug into her ass.

She undid the bra and tossed it aside. Leaning forward, she cupped his head and put her nipple to his mouth. “Taste me.”

His lips closed around her, suckled. Fire raced down to her clitoris, and she closed her eyes, tipped her head back. Then she pushed him. “That’s enough.” It wasn’t, by far, but she wanted to tease him, drive him wild. In the process, she’d tease herself as well. “No more touching by anyone but me.”

He leaned in for one more quick swipe, sending another jolt of electricity between her legs. “Then do it, now. Put your hot little finger in your pussy and make yourself come before I die.”

“Don’t rush me. We have to build up to it.”

He groaned and squeezed her backside. His need was what she wanted. She let it drive her higher until her body hummed.

“Please, baby.”

She palmed herself for him, moisture drenching her hand. Stephen breathed deeply, his eyes closing as he sampled her aroma. Then he raised his lids once more to drink her in.

“I’m so wet, Stephen. That’s what you do to me.” She parted the folds and teased her clitoris. A sigh fell from her lips, and her body arched. “It feels so good with you watching.”

She needed his eyes on her, his gaze everything. Her hips seemed to move on their own, pushing against him. She circled her clit, tormenting it to a hard bead. She raised herself, riding her fingers as if they were a cock deep inside her.

He held her butt, helped her find that perfect rhythm. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” Then he stopped her. “I want you on the bed without the skirt.”

He held her gaze. And she wanted everything he wanted.

“Yes, on the bed,” she whispered.

She was sure she would have fallen if he hadn’t helped her to stand. He reached behind and unzipped her skirt, letting it drop. He told her to lift her feet by tapping behind one knee, then the other, then tossed the garment aside. He kissed her belly, then licked along the garter belt. She shivered. Then he rose and pushed her toward the bed.

She slipped off her high heels. Wearing only garter and stockings, and with him clothed, she should have felt vulnerable. Instead, she felt sexy and decadent. She climbed onto the bed, lifting her ass. He squeezed a globe. Then she rolled over and lay on her back.

“Oh my God. There’s a mirror up there.”

He glanced up. “So there is.” Rolling to his side, he propped himself on an elbow, and together they looked at her in the mirror. He pulled her leg toward him, heightening her wanton display. Caressing her thigh, he gazed up into the mirror. “Now we can both watch. Touch yourself. Put your hand right here.”

In the reflection, she saw him place her hand between her legs, his covering hers, forcing her to draw light circles on her sensitized flesh. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

Though his voice was in her ear, the mirror distanced them. A man dressed in black, his hair silver. A woman in lingerie, her breasts and pussy bared to him. His big, tanned hand guiding her smaller, lighter-toned fingers looked so right together. Two halves of a whole, neither complete without the other.

He sucked her earlobe. “Make yourself come, baby.”

A pulse throbbed at her throat. The warmth of his hand left hers, and in the mirror, the woman rubbed her glistening pussy. She wet her lips with her tongue and fought to keep her eyes open as heat and tension built. Stephen nuzzled her hair. Her hips danced in the mirror, rising to rock against her fingers.

“Who do you imagine when you’re alone in your bed and your body’s aching?” His murmur wafted across her face.

“You.” She gulped in a breath. “It’s you touching me.”

“Say my name.”

“I imagine you, Stephen. Your tongue. Your cock inside me.” She strained off the bed. “Oh God, I want you so badly.”

He rose to his knees and peeled off his shirt. Unzipping his jeans, he pushed them past his hips and took his cock in his hand. “Do you know what your little noises do to me?”

The skin of his cock stretched tight at the tip. “Little sighs and tiny moans, I hear them at night when I’m in bed.” He stroked his erection. “I have to take out my cock. You make me come even when you’re not there. You drive me crazy.” He leaned down, bracing himself on one hand, and matched her rhythm. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to watch you? I’ve dreamed this a million times. I’ve ached to see you just like this for real.”

His voice wrapped around her as his hand wrapped around his cock. He worked her with the words. She panted, dizzied by his speed in the mirror, watching her body writhe on the bed.

And then she remembered her surprise. “Stephen, wait, wait, I need you to do something for me.” She had to have this, needed it for her store of memories.

He dropped his pace down to a gentle stroke.

“I asked them to put a vibrator in the side table drawer.” Heat bloomed on her cheeks, yet she didn’t know how she could be embarrassed after all they’d done. “I want you to use it on me.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, then he grinned. “You astound me.”

When he retrieved it, she saw it wasn’t as big as the one she’d watched, but she didn’t care. It would be perfect.

“Stephen, fuck me with it,” she whispered, her heat rising again just at the sight of it in his hand. “Please fuck me. Make me come. Please.”

He came down by her side, his cock caressing her thigh, and pulled her legs wide. “You’re so wet, I don’t think you even need this thing lubed.” He turned it onto a low buzz and tested the humming tip against her clitoris.

She jumped. “More.”

It was like a thousand tongues beating at her, and her passions rose so quickly, she almost came right then. “Inside, put it inside. Oh God. Now.”

He fondled her, toying with her as he parted her folds and slipped the vibrator inside. In, out, in, out, he went a little deeper each time. She started to pant and raised her gaze to the mirror above them. It was so utterly decadent and beautiful. Her leg over his hip, his silver hair, her pussy spread for him, the white base of the vibrator in his tanned hand, working in and out of her. So full, so good. She closed her eyes and pushed her hips up to take more. And he fucked her with it, fucked her long and hard and so damn good.

Then he put his tongue to her clit. Nothing. Ever. Nothing to compare. A cock taking her, a tongue bringing her.

She screamed his name, and her body gushed and came apart at the seams. His voice flowed over her like warm, wet come, urging her on, filling her up. She buried her face against the coverlet, the material tantalizing to her skin, her blood pounding through her veins.

“Oh my God.” Her breath was fast, and she didn’t feel quite in her own body.

Setting the vibrator aside, he lay beside her, trailing fingers up and down her thigh, leaving a path of sparks. “I have never been a party to something so utterly gorgeous.” He kissed her lips lightly. “Thank you.”

“No. Thank
you
.”

He rolled to his back and took her hand, raising it to his lips to suck her taste from her fingers, then he clasped it to his chest. “Do you see what I see?”

She saw him, pants below his hips, cock hard and high, chest dusted with hair, and black eyes willing her to see what he wanted her to see. She looked at her own body, nipples a rosy pink, still tight, thighs parted wantonly. The curls at her apex darker, damp, a streak of moisture across her hip. The stockings and garter belt made it that much more sexy. Her belly quivered.

Then she drank in the sight of him. Crinkly hair sprouted at the base of his cock. A tan line bisected his belly, the crown of his penis crossing it. Dark hair sprinkled with gray covered his chest and flat, brown nipples tempted her tongue.

Before she could move to take one in her mouth, he stroked through her curls. “A woman’s glory. Her power.” He found her clitoris and rubbed it to throbbing heat. “Do you feel it?”

Sensation streaked through her limbs. “Yes.”

He slid one finger inside and pumped as he had with the vibrator. “Do you want me inside you?”

His touch rushed her to the edge as if she hadn’t orgasmed only minutes before. “God, yes.”

He stopped long enough to whisper a harsh demand. “Say my name. Beg me.”

“Make love to me, Stephen. Please. Make me come again.”

He pulled back to shove off his clothes and put on a condom. She wanted to feel every inch of him with every part of her body. Belly to belly, he pulled her tight, trapping his cock between them, rocking gently. He closed his eyes, groaned, then finally, he rose and braced himself with one hand.

“Take me inside you,” he whispered.

She parted her legs, reached between them and held him, using him to stroke herself. “Just to get you all nice and wet.”

His eyes gleamed. “Do anything you want.”

She closed her eyes, fitted him to her. Then she wound her arms around his neck. “I want you inside. All the way. As high as you’ll go.” She pulled herself up to press her breasts to his chest. “In one thrust.”

He settled on her, gathered her butt in his hands, then slammed into her. She gasped, wrapped her arms around him, and held him that way for a moment. Savoring the feel. It was so much better than silicon.

“Now fuck me, Stephen.”

He moved inside her.

“Faster,” she urged. “Harder.”

He rose to his elbows, increasing the pace, the friction. She raised her legs to his waist. With one hand behind her knee, he forced her higher, his penetration deeper. She felt him touch her womb. His body pummeled her, thrust her across the bed until her head hit the pillows. She braced against the headboard.

“You feel so damn good.” Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Fuck me, Stephen. Fuck me.” She chanted the act, his name, over and over.

He lowered his head like a ram and took her with the mindless ferocity of an animal. Their slick flesh slapped and rubbed as he angled and arched. With each thrust, rough hair and hard flesh pounded her clitoris. On the inside, he captured a sweet spot she hadn’t known existed.

“Jesus, God.” His throat corded. “Fuck. Oh God. I—” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Shit. Ah shit.” Then he threw back his head and howled.

She came as he pulsed inside her. Came as he cried out. Came as he lost total control. She clung to him in the storm of sensation and kept on clinging when the tempest was over. His warm flesh stuck to her, their bodies fused. He breathed hard against her shoulder, his head buried in her hair. He trembled against her, inside her, all around her.

Nothing had ever felt so perfect.

She didn’t care about the wrongness in what she was doing, didn’t care about the consequences. That’s what addicts did. Told themselves they were in control. She wasn’t, but she would take everything she could get for as long as Stephen offered it.

Chapter Nine

It had been a week since Stephen last held her, a week in which pieces of his soul died. Their emails weren’t enough, leaving a gaping hole in his chest. In the garish bordello room, buried deep inside her, he’d almost shouted out his love. Every day since, the need to tell her grew stronger, more obsessive. He didn’t want a quick fuck, not even a long night of fucking if he couldn’t wake up beside her in the morning. Every morning. He couldn’t sneak off to meet her. He wouldn’t share her.

Yet he’d sent another invitation.

Tonight, The Sex Club was too damn crowded. Stephen had tried to get a private room, but they were all booked. Jesus. It was like ordering a motel room, and the feeling in his gut was just as seedy. Too many people wandered the halls tonight, and the club reeked of sweat, cloying perfume, and dirty sex. This wasn’t how he wanted their night to be.