Love Lust (5 page)

“What are you trying to do me, girl?”

I smiled slyly, eating it up. “You did say you needed a cure.”

“That I do.” He gestured me into the room with a sweep of his muscular arm. “That I do.”

I took in the suite. Two sofas, a wall of windows sprinkled in twinkling city lights, a bedroom door on each side of the room. I let my bag fall to the floor. A fruit and cheese tray was on the table and champagne waited in two glasses. “Music?”

Justin quirked an eyebrow and nodded. “What’s your flavor?”

“Anything that will make me move my hips will suit me fine.”

“Nice.” He put a CD into the stereo tucked into a low cupboard. A slow, electronic beat floated out of the room’s hidden speakers. “MGMT?”

“Works for me.” Really, it was beyond working. The music’s rhythm slinked into my senses, amplifying Justin’s scent and nearness. The craving within awoke.

Justin handed me a glass. I downed it and set it aside. I tugged off my heels and stepped close to him. I breathed in his scent. I wanted to ask how long he was here for, but I didn’t want to know yet, either.

He set aside his glass, tucked a finger into my jeans pocket, and tugged me closer. My hips began to move of their own volition as the song pulsed through me, the sultry lyrics whispering to my libido. Justin’s hips followed my lead and I remembered what a good dancer he’d been the other night. His hands roved around my waist, over my ass. He gripped my hips and turned me. My titties bounced. I flipped my hair, bending ever so slightly and looked back at him as he grinded against my ass.

His eyes flashed again. “You’re making this hard on me,” he said.

In more ways than one, I could feel. I only smiled, extending my arms above my head and leaning back against his chest. His hands came around to my belly. He nuzzled the sweet spot on my neck, sending shivers over my bare shoulders. God, he smelled good. Musk and sex and citrus.

As his hands came up, I slinked downward, swaying with the music. His hands grazed over my tits, no more than my shirt’s slippery material separating us. My nipples tingled. A shock of pleasure shot downward to my clit. My pussy pulsated. I swayed back up. His hands found my top button. He yanked my jeans open. I swayed back down. His hands carried the edge of my shirt up. The material softly slid over my skin, cool and slippery, contrasting with the warm, rough feel of his hands.

Justin groaned. He cupped my naked breasts and squeezed them. I arched against his touch, pressing my ass back against his hard cock. “I wanted to take this slow,” he said, a bit breathlessly. “But you are so fucking sexy.”

The music changed. Chris Isaak’s throaty voice came over the speakers and the lyrics dared my inner tramp.
I did a bad, bad thing. I did a bad, bad thing.
It was my turn to groan. I closed my eyes and let the music take over.

Spinning around, I peered at Justin through my lashes, making him take a step back while I slowly eased my jeans off. I stepped over them and pushed him back another step so that his legs came up against a sofa. “Sit down,” I whispered.

He complied, his eyes wide and mouth parted in that stare that thrilled me down to my soul. My shirt fell down one bare shoulder. I straddled his lap and sank onto his hard-on. His jeans were rough and tight against my bare thighs. I went on my knees on the floor and yanked his jeans open and off. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing broad shoulders and muscle tapering down to lean hips. He reached for my shirt.

“Huh-uh,” I said. I stood up, turned around, and let the music take me over again. I swayed. I dropped and popped my hips. With each turn and bend, my shirt slinked up, down, over my curves in its own erotic dance, delighting my skin and appetite. The power was so deliciously heady and soon, I wanted more.

“You have the most perfect ass.” He grabbed it with both hands, licked one cheek, then another, tugging my thong. I pulled away and wagged my finger.

The song changed again as I returned to straddle his lap. “Is this your seduction soundtrack or something?”

Justin grinned that boyish crooked one that made me wet. “No. Garette made it. He’s the player out of us.”

“And you’re the boy scout.”

“Something like that,” he said and pressed his hard cock up to meet my pussy. Nothing but the cotton of his boxers and the satin of my wet panties separated us. He cupped my face and drew me close. He kissed me with soft, tantalizing caresses.

I returned his kiss, drowning in the pleasure drenching my body. The tender way he held my face and suckled my tongue and lips fed my need, yet wet my appetite all at once. I was near mindless, aware only of sense and sensation. The scent of my moistening sex mingling with his. The sweet taste of his mouth, the hardness of his erection, the hunger coiling inside of me.

“I need to fuck you,” I said. “Here and now.”

“Wait for me, baby. Just a little. I want this to last.”

God, his voice was so good. So throaty and melodic. What would it do to me if he sang? I’d probably cum right there, pressing against him. I was nearly able to now. I couldn’t help it. I moved up and down his length. He felt so good.

I pulled my panties aside and freed his cock through the fly of his boxers. I slid again, up and down the length, letting my slick wetness cover him. He groaned. I drew my pussy to the tip, letting it press me open, then pulled away, sliding back down. Justin tugged my shirt off. His mouth found one titty. He sucked it hard. My body trembled as a shockwave of pleasure coursed through me. My pussy throbbed. I was swollen and ready and so freaking close. I needed his cock inside of me. And I didn’t care if he wanted to wait. I needed to explode and I needed to feel his thick size fill me up, press me to my limits as I spasmed around him in bliss.

Just the thought almost sent me over the edge. I took control. He moved his mouth to my other breast and I moved my pussy to the tip of his cock. His sharp intake of breath as I slid onto his shaft heightened my awareness.

“Liv, you gotta stop. You’re going to make me cum,” Justin breathed.

“No. Don’t cum. Just let me cum, then I’ll stop.” As I spoke the words, I began throbbing around his stiff length, clenching in sweet, radiating release. My head fell against his shoulders.

“Jesus, Liv. Your pussy feels so fucking unreal. You have to—oh, fuck. I can feel you cumming.”

I moaned in abandoned pleasure, rising up and down on his dick as wave after wave of intensity gripped me. I collapsed, my muscles pulsing against him. He throbbed. In a quick, deft move, he pulled me off of his prick.

I grinned, glad he wanted to hold out, glad that I could undo him as easily as he undid me. And he didn’t have a lust demon to please. Once a succubus, never an incubus lover again. I now could detect an incubus. Each I’d encountered had instantly repulsed my lust.

“I need a minute or two,” Justin said, stroking the backs of my arms.

I felt nearly full. As much as I’d love to fuck the night away with him, I couldn’t risk getting myself to where Paula was now.

Recalling my friend, I got up and checked my phone for a message or text. Nothing. Good. I faced Justin, in all my naked glory. “Shower?”

He stood up, his dick pointing high. What a tremendous example of male endowment. My mouth salivated just looking at him. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll forget making this count.”

I laughed. He took my hand and led me to the private bathroom adjacent to his room. “Roomy. I’m impressed,” I said, stepping into the water once he’d warmed it.

The water pouring over my titties, wetting my hair, dripping down my skin revived the erotic impulse within me. Justin joined me, that wide-eyed look of wonder and lust making me heady. I imagined the sweet little slutty vision I must present from my shaved pussy to the mascara and eyeliner smudging in the steamy water. Jimi Gale told me, as he was seeding me with this curse, that I had cocksucking lips. The full, pouty kind that made a man’s balls tingle just looking at them.

I nudged Justin into the water, then slowly dropped down to my knees. He braced a hand against each tiled wall and hope shone in his stare. “I’ve been thinking about your cock in my mouth. About the taste of your cum.”

His head fell back. “You’re like a wet dream come true, Liv. How do you do that?”

“Do what?” I asked then trailed my tongue over the tip.

“Look like an angel and talk like a pornstar.” His voice was husky and uneven.

I put him into my mouth and sucked. Hard. Harder. Almost enough to hurt him. His hips leaned in, arching his back. His stomach and chest displayed all sculpted and wet.

I popped my mouth off, enjoying the smacking sound.

I kissed him. My tight nipples grazed his chest. His cock pressed between my legs. Expertly, he picked me up and held my weight. I positioned him and he thrust into me. I gasped, shocked at how sweet and huge he felt. I was still so swollen from the pleasure of my climax that each deep stroke was amplified.

“Oh, God. Justin. You feel so good.”

In slow, steady pumps, he lifted and thrust, his arms supporting my weight and one hand exploring exactly where I wanted him to go. A little voice inside my head whispered I was flirting with danger. I could go too far. If I dove too far into the oblivion, I might not make it out.

But he felt so good, driving his big fucking dick into my hungry pussy. I bounced and bounced. He grunted, pounding into me. He bent and sucked on my titty, grazing his teeth around it. Almost making me hurt.

His hand circled closer and closer to my secret naughty spot. “Yes,” I said and looked him in the eye. “Do it.”

He didn’t need it spelled out. His finger massaged small circles around my hole, forcing him to stop pumping, but I didn’t care because I was about to cum again. “Please,” I begged.

He pushed the tip of his finger past my threshold. His cock jerked. So did my pussy. Slowly, carefully, he pushed his finger deeper. I moaned and ground my hips so that his cock pressed deeper and my clit hit his pelvis. He twirled his finger inside my ass and sparks of pleasure shot through me.

“I’m going to cum,” he said.

God, so was I. Then his dick grew slightly bigger and my pussy gripped onto it while my ass clenched onto his finger. I couldn’t open my eyes to see his golden feed entering into me. An image flashed in my mind, a hypercolor picture of Justin’s frame blocking flashing lights. The image vanished, but the flashes seemed to stay, and instead of seeing them, I felt them. My nails dug into his shoulders as I tried to hold onto him, half afraid the intense pleasure coursing through me would take me under.

Justin groaned, his body shuddered.

I gasped for air, slowly coming back to reality, so sated that I sagged, limp in his arms. That was different.

Justin drew out of me, cradled me into his arms and got us out of the shower. He laid me on his bed and crawled under the covers with me, wet and bliss-filled.

I told myself not to stay. I told myself to catch my breath, play it cool, and walk away. He was leaving tomorrow
and I didn’t know back to where. Paula needed me. And if I wanted him back for more, especially travel-the-globe kind of more, I should take off.

But his arms were strong and the bed was soft and the sandman had grander plans.

Sleep. To dream.

Chapter Five

I woke up drenched and panicked. My mind spun from the dream. It took several breaths to realize it hadn’t been real. Another few to recall where I was. Justin slept next to me, a limb sprawled in each direction. The image of Paula’s bloodless body, getting violated by those two from that sex club flashed back into my mind from the dream. I shook my head.

I eased off the mattress. Listening at the door a moment, I decided his friends hadn’t returned. I peeked out the door, saw the all clear, and hurried to my clothes. Dressed, I checked my phone.

Four texts from Paula and a voicemail icon told me I’d better get the hell out of here. My gut turned, but I decided read the texts once I’d escaped. Maybe she was just worried about where I was. I found a pad of paper and pen. Wobbly and a little drunk from our encounter, I scribbled what I hoped would sound sweet and grateful.

The bittersweet feeling of missing old love mixed in with the thrill of new left me feeling hollow and bright all at once. Sometimes, I really missed feeling plain bored.

Then I headed for the door. My hand on the knob, I stopped. What would I do now? Would I start over? What would I do never seeing him again? Not good. Thoughts like these and the desperate hope they brought along with them meant I needed more of him. I’d grown attached. Sneaking back into his room, hating that I couldn’t stay, wake up with him, and work on something beyond sex.
I snooped until I found his wallet.

I dug out his license and wrote down the details. I had his phone number and more now. I wouldn’t ponder yet what in the world I would do with the info. I felt better and could walk away and focus on my friend.

On the cab ride home, after allowing myself to relive every last moment of the night, I finally read Paula’s texts.

Each said, in varying versions:
Get your ass home, girl. I think I found the cure.

She didn’t answer when I called back. I focused on suppressing my heart’s hammering. Paula could mean a gazillion things by that, right? Hangover cure. A lost CD.

My heart wanted only one meaning, though.

And before I could stop it, my mind raced with big ideas about hope for the future. Hope for a normal human life. Hope for ordinary love. A real chance with a guy like Justin. Hell, with Justin. I’d never connected with someone so much as I had last night.