No Limits (27 page)

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Authors: Jenna McCormick

Tags: #Romance, #Science Fiction, #Adult

BOOK: No Limits
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“R
hys.” She arched off the bed as he bent and thrust his tongue deep inside her core. His hands gripped the undersides of her knees and pushed her legs back so she was fully open to him, her glistening pussy invading every sense. Never had paradise been so close. He licked her savagely, and she grew wetter, her honey dripping down his chin, down her crease. Pushing harder, he licked and sucked the puffy pink lips, using his tongue and teeth until she bucked wildly, needing release. Rhys laved her cream, seeking her every secret. Her moans filled his ears—along with whispered pleas he had no intention of heeding. She was his, and he would brand her in every way, make her recognize that he was master of her body and she owned his soul.
With the lightest touch, he flicked the very tip of his tongue over her clit once before seeking her gaze. “Do you still plan to leave me?”
Her chest heaved as she struggled for breath. “I can’t stay with you, Rhys.”
A finger surged into her sheath at the same time he asked, “Why not?”
Her inner muscles fluttered, and he withdrew, tracing his finger down the seam of her body in a caress designed to tempt more than satiate. Pleasure and agony emanated from her. He recognized the feeling because his cock swelled to bursting. Bending down, he sucked her hardened clit between his lips, reveling in her gasp but releasing before she could find any real satisfaction. “Give me a good reason.”
Something akin to a sob escaped her throat. Sweat trickled between her breasts, her entire body straining for release. Sucking in a shaky breath, she said, “You have things to do ... important things—”
This time he used two fingers to delve inside her, pumping her hot little passage until her lube dripped down. So soft, so slick. “The only thing I want to do is pleasure you.” Again he withdrew, this time circling her anus with his wet fingers.
Her whole body trembled with the need for release, her aura so bright he could barely see. Or perhaps it was lust that fogged his mind, jealousy because she could even
consider
living without him. He no longer had that option. “Tell me you’ll stay with me always, and I’ll let you come.”
Though tears of frustration welled in her eyes, she held his gaze. “That’s coercion.”
“You bet your sweet ass it is.” Pinning her legs with his forearm so she didn’t hurt herself with her wild undulations, his teeth dragged over her throbbing clitoris, tugging the sensitive bud lightly.
“Anything else,” she sobbed. “You can have anything else.”
“I want you. Forever.” He let his breath fall on her overly sensitized flesh, allowed her to see the need burning in his gaze. “How long do you think I can keep you like this? Poised on the razor’s edge, throbbing with need? If that’s how I’m to get my forever out of you, I’ll do it. So much for my important things.”
“This is insanity,” she whispered, but he saw the flush of pleasure his words stirred in her. “You can’t keep me like this—” A wordless cry interrupted her statement when he tongued her folds in a rapid tremolo. Again he fingered her slick passage in a quick move and then dragged a finger down her seam. She gasped as he breached her anus with his wet finger. The bud resisted at first, but he applied steady pressure, insisting he be the first to take her like this. First and last, for always.
Rising up, still penetrating her lightly, he stared into her wide eyes. “You’re in no position to tell me what I can and can’t do. Either say no and walk away or give me everything. You got my body back, Gen, and it wants you, all of you. Deal with it.”
Flushed and trembling, she nodded once. “Okay.”
He moved his thumb to circle over her throbbing bud. “Okay, what? Say it all, Genevieve. So there will be no more misunderstandings between us.”
“I will stay with you. Always.” She held his gaze and spoke clearly. “There will never be another for me.” Pure white coated her aura as she spoke the unrepentant truth.
Emotions washed over him in a torrent. Relief, anxiety, but love and need burned it all away. Working the knots of rope at her wrists, he freed her arms. His cock rubbed against her wetness through the fabric of his pants. He looked down, honestly shocked he hadn’t ripped through the thin material. Letting her go took enormous amounts of willpower, but with a fortifying breath, he stepped back and released her, yanking his pants off until his shaft sprang free.
“Come inside me now.” She held her arms out to him, and he did, stepping back out of the fabric pooled around his ankles, aligning his sex with hers and thrusting hard. The time for games was over and she’d agreed. He would hold her to her word.
Her hot little body clung to him greedily, and he angled her hips so he could stroke deeply. Sensations licked at him, flames ready and willing to consume him. He’d experienced her before, but this was the first time his flesh melded with hers while the promise of a future together floated within his grasp.
“Every night, Gen, I’m going to do this to you. Every. Single. Night.” He punctuated each word with a hard thrust. “We’ll burn through your entire cache of toys and props. I’ll take you in every way. You are mine.”
Sweat trickled between her breasts, and he bent to lap it up, his motion forcing her legs over her head. His cock swelled within and he swiveled his hips, stirring her hot little passage. She was so wet, her lube coating his shaft in a river of liquid lust. It spilled out of her, running down her crease, coating his balls, and still he thrust, wanting more, wanting all she had to give.
“Do you want me to take you in all ways?” Again he probed her anus with his finger so she understood his meaning.
Her eyes glowed in the dim lighting, color high on her cheekbones. “Only if I can do the same to you.” He felt her hand slide down his back, nails following the seam of his body until she toyed with his own hole. His cock surged within her, the tiny sensation of her finger at that forbidden entrance driving him close to madness. He came in a hot rush, his seed filling her up, but his shaft remained erect. Craving more.
“One thing at a time,” he rasped, pulling out of her and rolling her over.
 
“Rhys,” Gen gasped as he slithered between her spread thighs, again licking and sucking her sex. Her lube coated his face, and she shook, the need to come again bearing down on her like a comet caught in a planet’s atmosphere. Their loveplay had been kinky before, but this felt different. Rhys wasn’t just bringing her pleasure—he was branding himself on her.
His tongue delved into her sheath and that finger returned to her anus. Circling the sensitive bundle of nerves and making her squirm atop him. His finger, slick with her own juices, breached the opening, impaling her. She’d never believed she’d enjoy such attention to that particular area, but the thought of his thick cock stretching her there made her come in a rush.
He pulled away long enough to mutter, “Again,” and set back in with renewed determination, alternating his tongue between teasing her clit and filling her channel. A second finger surged inside her, stretching her on a rack between pleasure and pain.
This is the way sex was meant to be,
she thought hazily as he pushed her higher, further, past boundaries she never knew her mind had set. Hot and wet, achingly earthy with no walls between lovers.
Her hips bucked into his face as she climaxed yet again. Falling to her hands, she panted, scrambling to reassemble her scattered wits. With a final lick, Rhys moved out from under her and sank his cock into her saturated pussy.
“I want to be good and wet so I can glide right in here.” He scissored his fingers in her rear, preparing her to accommodate his girth. Withdrawing his shaft and fingers, he gripped her hips. “Are you ready for me, sweetness?”
All she could do was nod.
He went slowly, pushing that thick shaft up inside her channel. Her lube did ease his way, as she felt the head of his shaft scrape along nerve endings she had never been aware of before. He only made it a few inches before her body tightened up.
He’ll never fit
.
The pad of his thumb found her clit, dabbled in a soothing, coaxing manner. “You feel so good, Gen. All of you. Can I come inside you?”
She scowled, not understanding what he meant until a trickle of his consciousness eased into her mind. Sighing, she opened to him, both body and mind, wanting him. The words whispered through her awareness, not hers or his, but theirs.
In all ways, in every way. Without boundaries or limitations.
Ah, gods, Gen.
Rhys spoke on that level, on their level of shared consciousness. Losing herself with him, she pushed back, stretched and bent herself to accommodate him, as he did her.
When the ache started inside her sex, he moved his hand to caress her there. Thumb rotating over her throbbing clitoris, he played with her body in the way only he knew how to do.
She surrendered to him, coming in a rush, letting herself merge with him even more deeply.
Of its own volition, the rope rose up, circling around them until it bound them both. She gasped, awed by the thrum of magic coursing through it, the power that had slept until their love awakened it. Silken cords caressed his skin, and she felt it just as when it had touched her own flesh. Winding its way through arms and legs, exploring, inviting every part of her to join with every part of him. Her already overwhelmed senses grew even more alert, taking in the way his crisp pubic hairs felt against her ass cheeks, the sweat that ran between her breasts, the glide of the rope as it wove around them, lifting them up. Locking them together in this sensual embrace.
“This is your doing,” Rhys gasped as the knot he had formed for her nestled at his own rear passage, giving him another taste of what she was feeling. “I can feel your mind in the rope. It tastes of your emotions, your passion and strength.”
Following the rope’s lead, Gen wrapped her essence around him and he went over, too, bodies linked in mating, minds connected, and hearts beating as one.
 
“Get off my ship,” Zan growled at Gen, pointing a laser pistol at her. She turned from where she was watching the crates of candles being unloaded to stare at him.
Her gaze went from his face to the weapon and back. “You can’t be serious.” Though she’d been about to tell him she was ready to go, having the option taken from her rankled.
“There isn’t enough reward in the universe to make me keep you on board for another second. What’s to stop you from stealing my ship again?”
“Z-Zan,” she sputtered, but he waved her down the gangplank.
Rhys waited down below, a small smile playing across his lips. In one hand he held her bag.
Her jaw dropped and she studied the two men. “You planned this!”
Nana, Gramps, and Tanny stood off to the side with Gia. All were smiling, but none more than Rhys.
“I know what a devious creature you are. I had to protect my investment.” He tugged lightly at the emotional bond that now linked them together.
She looked up at Zan. “Thank you.”
He grinned wickedly. “I’ll be sure to ask the favor be returned one day.”
Held securely in Rhys’s arms, Gen watched as the living ship took off. “What did you bribe him with?”
Rhys slid his gaze to Gia. “A happily-ever-after. Later.”
Gen nodded and surveyed her new home. “I’m glad you’re so wicked.”
He stroked her cheek. “Sweetness, you have no idea the depths of my depravity.”
Warmth bloomed deep inside her chest. “I plan to find out.”
Turn the page for a special excerpt from
Kate Douglas’s novella “Dream Catcher,” in
NIGHTSHIFT
A sizzling collection of
erotic, paranormal stories by
Kate Douglas,
Crystal Jordan, and
Lynn LaFleur.
An Aphrodisia trade paperback on sale now!
1
In orbit behind Earth’s moon—present day
 
Zianne? Is he the one? Is he strong enough? Smart enough?
I think so. He’s very strong—I heard his voice over such a great distance, but I don’t know. We’ve waited so long. How can I be certain?
We’re dying, Zianne. All of us. There’s no time to hesitate. There are hardly enough of us left to matter.
No. Don’t say that. We matter. We must.
Then go. Even I sense this one. His world will nurture us for now, but this man ... this one man will be our salvation.
 
Silicon Valley—April 1992
 
“F
ucking chicken scratch.” Mac Dugan wadded up yet another lined yellow page covered in pointless doodles, equations, and code. He reached overhead, aiming for the Sloan’s Bar and Grill sign over the trash can.
Powerful fingers closed around his wrist.
Jerking his arm free, he spun around, prepared to take a swing at whatever idiot had interrupted his mini-tirade. When he saw who it was, he laughed. “Christ, Dink. Haven’t seen you in ages. You trying to get yourself killed?”
“Nope. Just trying to save your stupid ass.”
Mac grabbed the beer Dink handed to him. “Who says my ass needs saving?”
Dink grinned. His wide smile, along with the collar-length blond hair and thick dark lashes framing light blue eyes, made him almost too pretty for a man. “I do,” he said. “That redhead, Jen? The one who was with you last month? She’s all cozied up to the bar with your nemesis.”
“You mean Bennett? Crap.” Mac took a sip of his beer and fought the compulsion to glance over his shoulder. “I didn’t know he was here. With her? Shit. Why’d I ever go out with her?”
“Because you were horny?” Dink snorted. “She keeps looking this way. Maybe she wants to get laid again.”
Mac shook his head. “Not by me. What about Bennett? Is he watching us?”
Dink chuckled. “Nah. He’s too busy staring at her cleavage.”
“Fucking jerk. Weird she’d be here with him after ... well, shit. Maybe I’m just paranoid.” He avoided turning in his seat to stare at Phil Bennett. Even if the guy was responsible for totally fucking over his life, Bennett was more than welcome to the redhead. Except ... It was like that stupid cartoon lightbulb flashed on in his mind. What if Jen and Phil had been an item before she came on to Mac? What if she’d been using him to get stuff—like his project notes?
“Of course you’re paranoid.” Dink was obviously reading his mind. He took a swallow of his beer and cocked one eyebrow. “You have a right to be, after what happened.” He glanced once again at the couple. “On the other hand, you sure you don’t want to get laid? She looks interested, and she’s hot.”
Mac laughed. “How do you know? You like guys.”
Dink flipped him off, but he didn’t deny it. At least his sexual preferences had never gotten in the way of their friendship. “I know gorgeous when I see it, male or female. She definitely fits the description.”
Mac shrugged. “I know the red hair’s not natural.”
“It didn’t seem to matter at the time.”
It hadn’t. He’d met her just a couple of days before the shit hit the fan. She’d come on to him, made it patently obvious she wanted to get laid, and it had been too damned long since he’d gotten a piece of anything but his right hand. “What can I say? She caught me in a weak moment.” He waved his hand at the pile of discarded notes in the trash. “That’s what counts. I know what I want, how it should look and what it needs to do, but I can’t get the damned program to work.”
Dink held up both hands and shook his head. “Hell, don’t look at me. Starving grad student, future TV news guy here, not developer of weird software. You’re so far past me on all this computer shit I wouldn’t know where to start. What about the guys in the lab? I hear they’re doing amazing stuff.”
“I’m barred from the lab after what happened.” He practically snarled. “Bennett’s lies got me booted out of the program, cost me the grant and the rest of my scholarship. I’m just about out of cash.” He held up the beer Dink had bought him. “Thanks for this, by the way.”
“Well, fuck.” Dink glared at him. “They were wrong, Mac. You know he stole your work. I still think you should fight it.”
Mac forced a quick smile. “Thanks, man. Unfortunately, Phil had the notes, not me. In his handwriting. My originals are missing. Even the floppy disks are gone, so there’s no reason to believe me. Besides, his uncle’s the dean of the department.”
“And Bennett’s a lying turd.”
“I agree, but it earned him a clean shot at the grant we were competing for.” Mac shrugged, but he couldn’t let it go. When he lost his access to the campus computer lab, he’d lost his only link to the new World Wide Web and contact with other software developers. His scrapped-together computer was too limited to test the programs he hoped to design, the ones he knew could bust him out of obscurity.
Right now, his future was totally fucked.
Keeping his back to Bennett and the redhead, Mac finished off the rest of his beer and shoved away from the table. Then he carefully stuffed his notepad in his backpack and looped the pack over his shoulder.
Dink tossed back his beer and rose as well. “Not so fast, brain-boy. You’re coming with me.”
“Where?” Mac folded his arms across his chest and gave Dink the kind of stare that generally intimidated most guys.
Except Dink, who just laughed. “Don’t try that ‘death to evildoers’ look on me, big guy. My computer crashed. That’s why I was looking for you. I want you to retrieve a paper I just finished. Gotta have it for tomorrow, man, or I’m screwed.”
“That I can probably do.” What threw Dink for a loop was usually a simple fix for Mac. He loved computers, and with the way technology was improving, it was obvious the twentieth century was going out with a bang.
Mac intended to be part of the explosion. He’d built his own system—and Dink’s, for that matter—from scratch, but Mac’s wasn’t anywhere near as fast as the computers in the lab on campus. He needed faster, more complex equipment to accomplish his goals. It was so damned frustrating, living in Silicon Valley where everything was happening at warp speed, aware of so many new innovations, and yet stuck on the fringes without the equipment he needed to handle his ideas.
Shit. Just one more thing totally out of his control.
He glanced at the bell tower marking the center of the campus he’d thought of as home for the past seven years, and fought back a surge of anger. The dean had accepted the project Phil Bennett turned in, decided Mac was lying when he accused the bastard of theft, and then had the balls to say they’d let him drop out of the postgraduate program rather than formally charge and expel him.
He’d lost his scholarship and access to the lab. Lost any chance of qualifying for the grant he needed to continue his work. Lost everything because that little weasel had somehow stolen his project, lied about it, and gotten away with it.
Even worse, the incident was going on Mac’s record. A black mark against his name, against the honor and integrity he’d always valued so much. No matter how bad it got, he’d never compromised. Never. Now this.
Why the fuck was it always an uphill battle? He was so damned tired of fighting life on his own, but other than Dink, he’d been alone since the foster care system booted his ass out at eighteen. The academic scholarship to the university had saved him. Until Bennett screwed him over.
If he could just get his life in order, maybe things wouldn’t look so damned bleak, but now—right now—it all sucked.
Big time.
 
“Dinkemann, you are such a horse’s ass.” Mac kept his voice down as he stopped to throw a blanket over Dink’s prone form on the couch. He stood over his sleeping buddy, remembering. They’d been through so much together. Growing up with a guy in the same crappy foster home created a link like nothing else. Even though they were complete opposites, Mac loved Dink in a way he couldn’t explain. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for him.
Well, almost nothing, though Mac couldn’t deny he’d thought about it. Dink was gay and loved Mac, and while the thought of sex with his buddy had crossed his mind, Mac himself hadn’t crossed the line. Yet.
Maybe it was all the beer he’d had tonight, but for some reason the thought of loving Dink that way didn’t bother him as much as it had.
You’ve had way too much to drink, Dugan.
It was definitely time to go home. Quietly, Mac closed the door to Dink’s tiny apartment. Fueled by more beer than he’d needed, he hoped he’d be able to make it back to his apartment without getting arrested for public intoxication.
He rarely drank this much, but seeing Jen and Phil together tonight had thrown him. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure she’d stolen those pages of notes the night they’d fucked like bunnies until he finally fell asleep. She’d been gone when he finally dragged himself out of her bed and went back to his own place. Maybe she hadn’t slept as soundly. Was she the one who’d ripped out the pages that had turned up in Phil Bennett’s precise handwriting?
Had Phil used those hours to break into his apartment and steal the floppy disks with the research and all his notes?
There was no way to prove it. The pages were gone, along with the disks, something he hadn’t noticed until it was time to prepare the grant application. And then it was too late.
Only Dink believed him, but their bond went deeper than mere friendship, sometimes so intensely visceral it was barely a step away from sexual attraction. Sort of how he’d felt tonight.
Except Mac knew he was straight. He’d never questioned his own sexuality, never doubted how much he loved women. In fact, tonight he’d gone off on a riff, rhapsodizing over the ultimate fantasy female. He could still see her—tall and athletic with long black hair and violet eyes. Dink had thrown in a computer nerd personality. What had he called her?
“A nerdette.” Mac laughed, his voice echoing in the quiet night. “Just what I need.”
Mac figured he was nerdy enough for two.
Dink, of course, had fantasized over the ideal guy—a guy who sounded suspiciously like MacArthur Dugan—tall, lean build, thick waves of caramel hair, a killer smile, and sapphire blue eyes—Dink’s terms, not Mac’s.
Dink had never hidden his feelings from Mac. So why did Mac feel as if he were keeping secrets from Dink? He loved Dink. Just not
that
way. Or did he? Damn. Mac stopped, grabbed the front of his jeans, and adjusted the crotch. Why the hell was he getting hard? Thoughts of Dink, or of his fantasy woman? Shit.
He focused on Bennett and the stolen project, and fury spurred him on. With his gait not quite steady, Mac made it up the stairs to his fourth-floor apartment in a matter of minutes.
Still pissed.
He and Dink had discussed how absurd it was. Why would Mac lie? If he didn’t know the material, his ignorance would prove him wrong, but the dean refused to allow Mac to defend himself.
He’d never cared much for the dean, and the feeling had obviously been mutual, but the man’s response to Mac’s claims went beyond mere dislike. He’d been absolutely irate with Mac and had immediately taken Phil’s side. What could Dean Johnson gain from his nephew winning the grant instead of Mac? Family unity or something stupid like that? Was that worth risking his tenure? Possibly, but probably not. But what else? Shit ... Mac knew the program inside and out, with or without the notes and floppies. Did Bennett? No. No way.
Yet Mac still hadn’t been allowed to defend himself.
Which left him guilty with no recourse. Cursing, Mac dug through his pants pocket for the key, fumbled with the damned thing, and promptly dropped it.
He leaned over to pick it up and almost fell on his face when the world spun a little too fast. “Oh ... shit.” He grabbed the key, stuck it in the lock, and after a couple of fumbles, got the door open. Moving very carefully, he managed to get inside his apartment without falling on his ass.
He leaned against the closed door a minute and let the world right itself once more. Then he tossed his backpack on the floor and slipped out of his jacket, but when he turned to dump his coat on the chair, something sweet tickled his senses.
He sniffed the air.
“What the hell?” Mac inhaled again, drawing the rich scent into his lungs. Vanilla? Honey? It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Flipping on the light in the kitchen area, he glanced around to see if he’d left anything out.
The counters were clean, the sink empty except for a coffee cup and a cereal bowl. He sniffed the air again, but the scent that had seemed so pervasive eluded him now.
Yawning, seriously regretting those last few beers, Mac headed to the bathroom for a shower. If he relaxed enough and went to sleep thinking about the new graphics program, maybe he’d dream a solution. With any luck, his subconscious—what Dink called his lizard brain—would figure it out.

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