Authors: Myra Song
My dick goes hard as a crowbar at her threat. Better pay up? Oh, I’m going to make her scream for that. I’ll make her come until she blacks out.
You don’t get as rich as I am without keeping promises and not paying back debts. It’s why I rarely promise anything and I
go in debt.
But Elise yanked her shirt over her head and I’m stunned into silence.
Her body is everything it promised to be. Moving toward her, my skin heats. It’s humid in her apartment, the downside to cheap living in a shitty part of town. The moisture in the air feels like it’s tugging at my skin and I need us both naked, like, yesterday.
I don’t kiss her. Not at first. If she’s going to play these ballsy games with me, then I’m going to play her right back. Instead I grab the straps of her bra and pull them quickly down.
“Hey!” She cries in anger, but I don’t care because her tits are freaking glorious and I am going to enjoy this. As she scrambles to free her arms from the tangled straps, I grab her and pull her up and toward me. Elise’s back bends and her nipples are offered up like appetizers.
Don’t mind if I do
Pale pink and plump, she’s got large nipples on average-sized breasts and it’s just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I take one in my mouth and she stops struggling so hard, an audible sigh escaping her mouth.
The Private Detective tips her head back and lifts herself more. I give it to her, sucking it into my mouth. It pebbles quickly as I latch, giving me something to graze with my teeth. As I suck and bite her breast, I move the hand not supporting her body to the other and palm it.
Elise is responding more to my rougher touches. It sparks something dangerous in me. A fire I try to keep tempered. But when I bite more roughly at her nipple, tugging it away from her body with my teeth, her hands knot in my hair and urge me on.
I knead her other breast hard. It’s soft and pliant, filling my grip. My fingers dig in a little and she hisses and lifts a leg, hooking it over my hip.
I was going to fuck her in her bedroom. First times, and all that. But we’re not going to make it. Hell, I’m not going to make it much longer.
Maneuvering her body, we make our way over to her desk. If I thought she kept better care of her records, I’d feel remorse as I sweep the papers on the floor. But I’d peeked over there and she fits the stereotype P.I.-- loose stacks of papers and pens missing tops. Not organized.
She doesn’t complain, and that’s a point for her. My fingers make quick work of Elise’s pants, unbuttoning them. She moves to push them eagerly down, but I stop her, grabbing her wrists and circling them with the fingers of one hand.
“Not so hasty,” I coo, her eyes meeting my gaze. They’re burning with lust and irritation and I almost laugh. I haven’t felt this exhilarated by a woman in years.
“I’m not much of a foreplay girl, Mr. Locke,” she warns, trying to dare me into fucking her hard and fast. Instead, I squeeze my grip on her harder, until she winces, while sliding my other hand into her panties.
Christ, she’s wet. Her soft, velvet folds part easily for my fingers. Elise is still trying to free her hands from my grip, but her legs open wider. I thrust two fingers into her hot channel and she gasps, eyes wide.
My own balls feel like they’re going to explode already and damn, I’m too close to coming and I haven’t even taken my pants off. That’s how hot this girl is making me.
That’s okay. I like a challenge. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this turned on by sex, this intrigued by a woman.
That’s because she’s a P.I., Locke, and a former Detective. You like to play with fire.
I squash my chiding subconscious down easily because Elise demands my attention by beginning to grind down on my hand.
“When I let you go, put your hands behind your head. Don’t let them fall,” I order her, loving the flare of anger in her gaze.
“I don’t do bossiness, either, Locke.” But when I release her wrists, she does as I say, her hands meeting behind her hair. It forces those delectable breasts out again and I fight the urge to suck her nipple back into my mouth.
I begin fucking her with my fingers, slow and steady. Each time I thrust them in, I press my palm firmly against her swollen clit.
It’s hot in the room. What was humidity before feels like a sheet of moisture now, draped over our bodies. My shirt is sticking to my damp back and my hair is plastering to my forehead, which I lean forward and connect with hers.
We’re forehead to forehead, nose to nose. Our eyes are locked on to the others’. She smells good, like sweat and a hint of something floral. The floral notes surprise me-- with her converse shoes and wrinkled jacket, I’d have taken her as a citrus girl. Something light and fruity and a little tomboyish.
Instead I’m catching notes of jasmine and ylang-ylang. Both are soft, subtle scents. Both are thought to be sensual. Aphrodisiacs.
My little P.I. has a naughty side, it seemed, that extended past her sassy mouth and response to roughness.
Somewhere inside of me, a warning bell goes off. This is bad news.
But I’m so in tune to her now. Neither of us is backing down. Elise is grinding on my hand now. I start to time my fingers’ thrusts with her breaths, fucking her a little quicker, a little harder. As she starts to gasp, her skin flushing pink, I curl my fingers toward me and find her sweet spot.
Elise tries to stay en guarde, tries to not blink, but as her orgasm ignites, her eyes squeeze shut and she moans, a deep, throaty moan that makes my cock twitch. Her pussy is clamping down hard on my fingers and fuck, I can’t wait to be inside of her.
Her body becomes languid as I slide my fingers out, like she thinks it’s over.
That’s when I drag her pants and panties down. Wary, she kicks them off and I smile. Her knees are a little shaky. Lifting her hips, I sit her on the edge of her desk and sink to my knees in front of her.
“I’m just getting started,” I growl before shoving her legs open.
Her beautiful, pink pussy is waiting for me. It’s shaved (another surprise) and sopping wet. Licking my lips, I’m startled to discover just how much I’m looking forward to licking that wet slit.
Elise doesn’t like my hesitation. “Locke, it’s just a pussy. Get licking or get out.” Her voice is thin and she’s all talk, still coming down from the first orgasm, but I groan and dive in.
As my tongue sweeps through her velvet folds, she cries out and grips my hair once more, pulling me closer.
What can I say? I’ve always loved eating pussy. But hers… hers is something else. Divine.
Her sweet musk is coating my face. She becomes my whole world. And her taste? I could drink from her each day and never grow tired. It’s sweet and light and I want more.
My hands grip her thighs and I shove my tongue into her tight hole.
I could fall in love with this girl.
Don’t even fucking think it
My body is on freaking fire.
Locke is between my legs, all gung-ho like my pussy is the greatest thing he’s ever experienced. I’m all for giving lovers, but this is…
This is insane.
Each nerve is pulsing with pleasure, my skin is practically crackling. That first orgasm had been more intense than I’m ready to admit. The eye contact, the way he’d paced his thrusts exactly to my breaths? Sweet mother of God, I’ve never experienced something so, so--
This was just supposed to be a fuck!
And part of me is already scrambling to get him out of the apartment, because a man who fucks a stranger with this level of intensity can’t be good. But that part of me is easily drowned out by the rest of me, which is practically screaming “More, more, more!”
Locke sucks my clit into his mouth, drawing hard, and I can’t believe it. I come again, my body quaking as it grips me fiercely. He won’t stop, sucking my for all I’m worth, the pleasure dancing into the realm of pain, the climax being dragged out.
I feel it in my fucking
, and I’m worried, because this is so unreal I’m afraid I might get addicted.
I shut my eyes and lie back on the desk. It’s embarrassing that I’m avoiding looking at him, but my stomach is still quivering with aftershocks.
Locke isn’t having it. “You moved your hands,” he says as he stands between my legs. “Pull your knees to your chest but keep them spread.”
What? Oh. When I’d grabbed his hair while he was licking me. What kind of weirdo was this guy?
The kind who turns you on, apparently
Truth be told, I’ve never actually done any of the kinky shit. When you’re a P.I., you see way too much of people’s weird fetishes to want to try them. The things I’ve seen while investigating have pretty much made me fifty shades of what-the-hell.
And I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t like being bossed around. It was one of many reasons why I left the force. It’s the only reason I’ll admit to out loud. I don’t like men telling me what to do.
Except I apparently
when Locke bosses me around, because before I know it, my hands are drawing my knees to my armpits. My pussy is aching, swollen and exposed to him. This is so unlike me, so surreal, and I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been.
“The punishment for dropping your hands without permission--” Locke toys with me, dragging his fingertips across the hyper-sensitive skin near my clit, making my hips jerk. “--Is letting me fuck your ass. Hard.”
Heat flames through my cheeks. I’ve never done it in the backdoor.
Okay, here’s a secret. I’ve actually only had a few lovers. Hence the freaking
since I last had sex. And all of them, with one exception, were basic vanilla. Missionary, thrust-and-grunt types.
My last boyfriend had changed that. He’d figured out that I like things a little, well, rougher. But we’d broken up over a little problem of his called
and so here I was, inexperienced and in a dry spell.
Locke has this knowing smile on his face, though, and I don’t want to let him win. It scares me a little to think of him up my ass, but if he’s as skilled with that as he is with his fingers and tongue--
I nod and even dare to smirk.
He laughs. And then he strips and I immediately regret my bravado.
Jameson Locke has a body models would kill for. His broad shoulders and chest are covered in ropey muscle. His waist tapers a little, but it is wrapped in more abs than any man has a right to. My mouth salivates at the “v” that leads down to--
Oh. Oh, my.
Locke’s cock is spectacular. It’s thick and long, its mushroom head tantalizing. He is so hard it is pointed toward the ceiling and, well, I blush deeper realizing that’s because of me.
But it is a
dick. And he’s asking to put it in a very tight place.
As if sensing my worry, he smiles more gently. “You can say ‘no,’ Elise.” He says my name like it’s sacred, rolling in his deep baritone, and I sigh. “I know how intimidating my size and sexual prowess can be.” That gentle smile shifts into a smirk.
Screw this guy. Screw his arrogant, chiseled face and his stupid, arrogant proposals.
But first… screw me in the ass.
I’m not going to let him get smug over this.
Remember, Elise. This is a one and done kind of deal.
I roll onto my stomach, thighs pressing firmly into the front of the desk, and wink at him over my shoulder. He doesn’t need to know that inside I’m getting chills from fear.
You only live once, and all that shit
Locke looks surprised and I feel a wash of triumph.
It doesn’t take him long to recover. From the pocket of his pants on the floor, he pulls out a condom and a small packet. I eye him hungrily as he rolls the condom on, worrying my lip again at the size.
He tears the packet open with his teeth and squeezes something onto his finger. I shoot him a dubious look and he smiles, chiding “It’s lube. You’re going to want it.”
Yes. Yes, I did.
And, in a surprisingly gentlemanly move, he warms the lube first by rubbing it between his fingers before slicking it against my tight opening.
A sigh escapes my lip at his touch. It’s gently, the probing soft. I press my forehead to the desk because I don’t want him to see the blush that’s staining my cheeks.
Locke’s touch is sexy as hell. His fingers are deft, working me open slowly, never pressing too hard or too fast. I wouldn’t have pegged him as this thorough, especially rocking the monster hard on he has. That can’t be comfortable.
A pressure builds against my anus as he pushes a finger in. It glides, my body barely resisting, and I find myself breathing a bit easier. If it is this easy, I can take him, no problem.
The gentle stretch becomes more strained as another finger joins the first. He moves them slowly, pushing in and out. The feeling of my ring as it begins to stretch… God. It feels like pleasure, but trepid pleasure. My worry is making it impossible to relax completely.
His fingers begin to speed up. I’m grunting a little as he fucks my ass with his fingers. There is some burning and I wince, but then he starts doing this little twist with his fingers.
. It feels incredible.
My pussy, still wet from my previous climaxes, defies the odds and starts to swell again, the nerves waking back up. Unbelievable. I’ll never admit this to the self-righteous jerk behind me, but Locke really knows how to work a woman’s body. This has already been some of the best sex I’ve ever had, and his cock hasn’t even made it inside of me yet.
When I squeeze my thighs together to ease the tension between my legs, he chuckles. “Eager, are we?”
Despite my worry and backdoor virginity, yeah, I’m eager. His fingers are working me fast now and I’m ready for something bigger. I want to feel him inside of me. I want to be impaled on him, then piss him off, then have him take that frustration out of me.
It feels like I’m about to get my wish. Locke’s fingers withdraw and I can feel the bluntness of his cock replacing them at my opening. He nudges me, slowly, feeling me out. I press back, but he skirts away.
Groaning in frustration, I try to provoke him. “Are we fucking? Or were you all talk?”
I can practically feel his grin. “Elise, baby. The finer things in life shouldn’t be rushed, and you are the finest piece of ass I’ve had in a long time.” His voice is a growl, creating a low ripple through me, as if his very words were claiming my body for his own.
My mind should be so pissed off by now. Baby? Piece of ass? But it’s not. Instead, my heart is fluttering and my pussy is singing for him because his words make me feel hot. They make me feel sexy.
As his words heat me through, I relax and--
Locke pushes into me, filling me inch by steady inch with his hard-as-iron cock.
I gasp, instincts taking over and clamming me up, but he’s there, his arms braced on either side of me, the tickle of his breath in my ear. “Jesus, you’re so tight,” he groans. “You’re so fucking sexy, Elise.”
My body relaxes and welcomes him in, the intense burning and pressure giving way to hints of pleasure.
Locke rocks his hips into mine and he’s in all the way.
I’ve never felt so full of a man before. His smell wraps around me, and it’s the same as it was in the office-- that fine cologne, sandalwood and pine. It’s so musky, masculine, and I’m trembling in his arms because it calls to me on some ancestral level. Like, caveman-style, I want him to take me hard now.
My hips wiggle and push back and he hisses. Locke stands up, placing his hands on my hips, anchoring himself and me. “I can’t wait to fuck this ass raw,” he growls, and my mind yelps
yes, yes, yes!
Locke’s fingers dig into the soft flesh, spread wide, controlling, and he withdraws almost to the tip, leaving me feeling empty, vulnerable--
And then thrusts back in, hard. My body shakes and quakes and I scream and