Onyx Mafia: Insatiable - Episode 7: (Lia and Meghan) (Onyx Mafia: Insatiable Book 1) (4 page)

I nodded, wanting to bury my face in the folds of her skirt, inhale and never let it go.

She lifted my head with the handle. “You have allured me, teased me, and made promises left painfully, woefully unfulfilled. You’ve slept with many, many other women, all while professing your undying love to me.”
 

The bundled coil pushed my head closer to her crotch.

“I think you have a debt to repay.”

And I did. Never had I wanted to please anyone more. I lifted her flowing skirt, inhaling her scent. She pulled it over me and I was inside the cave of legs and patterned cloth, my only escape the thin pair of silken panties, yellow and beckoning, a beacon lighting her brown skin.

I pulled it down and found her eagerness, tasted it with my tongue. Moaned, going deeper when I felt the whip uncoil and whisper down my spine to play with the cuff of my backside.

She sat on the bed, pulling me along on my knees. I heard another bite of an apple and groaned into her at the casualness of it. That I had known her but not known her was making me lose my shit, my hard earned skills fleeing me.
 

How had I not noticed this side of her?

The whip swung, tapped me lightly. “Don’t stop to sightsee, Lia. I thought you were good at this?”

Pride made me redouble my efforts, mouth and tongue paying homage. I smiled into her as the whip stilled, muted sounds of pleasure coming through clenched teeth.

My tongue danced inside her, nose filled with her scent. Ah, she was so wet. I pulled her underwear off, sliding them over her heels.

She pulled me up from the shrouds of her skirt and kissed me. There was no giving of pleasure in this kiss. She took. She took what she wanted and whenever my mouth moved to respond the whip would flick me in warning.

I wanted to touch her, the whip stirring whenever my hands dared to roam. The juice from the apple mingled with her flavor and my eyes closed at the indescribable hijacking of my senses: apples and Brenda, the sea and Brenda, roses and Brenda, salt and sand and sun and Brenda.

Brenda, Brenda…

“Open your mouth, Lia.” I did, and she placed the other apple between my teeth, shoving it far into my mouth.

She smiled. “I like that look. Don’t bite too hard.”

She made me lay across the red raw silk covers on the bed, my arms above my head, my legs spread. A bright red apple in my mouth.

She watched me, face calm, pressing the handle of the whip firmly against my sex, the length trailing over my stomach. And my hips began to move. She kept the pressure firm as I fucked myself against it, the juice from the apple sliding down my throat.

Her face, Jesus. Her face was stone; it gave me nothing and it drove me wild. Who is this woman?

She leaned over. “Your word is cinnamon, correct?”

I nodded, wondering who told her. Whom she asked.

The whip slicked down my thigh. She smiled, standing tall. “If you want me to stop, let the apple drop. Nod if you understand.”

I did, my hands aching to touch her. The things I could do to her, needed to do to her.

She straddled me, something glinting in her hands. “Guess what I found.” The click of handcuffs around my wrist, attaching to the bedposts made my breath come in long shuddering gasps.

“On the first day of riding school I learned how to use a whip gently, without leaving a mark.”  She leaned in, her wetness coating my stomach, buttoned down shirt giving secret glimpses of warm skin.

“On the last day I learned how to flay the skin off an apple.”

Fuck me
. I couldn’t move, my attention on her every breath.

She smiled and I lost myself in the depths of that smile. The history behind it. Between us. “Are you ready, Lia?” she said, and then… she began to recite her lessons.

She had not lied; she taught me how to sing that afternoon. My body joined a chorus, a counterpoint to her whip. She was an exacting coach, my conductor.
 

And then she removed the apple, neatly flayed, and replaced it with her own fruit.

She used my tongue and lips like tools, straddling my face, whipping the heels of my feet if I lost rhythm, if I took too long to gasp for air, if I used tongue instead of suction, lips instead of tongue, suction instead of lips...

She knew me. She knew me and she demanded more. She demanded perfection.

It was a performance worthy of an Oscar, a role she took ten years to craft. She embraced it. She embraced me and it was fucking perfect.
 

She was perfect.

When she finally came, ah god, I drank her in. I never hungered so much as I did at that moment, desperate as she trembled above me. My tongue, my throat, my heart rejoiced in her taste, her pleasures, her body.

She pulled herself off me, nearly crawling toward my thrusting hips, the aching opening between them.

“Yes, please.” I was nearly crying, so frenzied I was to have her touch me, caress me. My vision moved in odd geometric circles. I tried to focus on what she was saying.

Her smile, ah, her smile was the cat who swallowed the canary. “You seemed to have lost a bit of that patented self-control, Lia. Do you need to take a break, catch your breath? Have a nice calm walk on the beach?”

Please, if you have ever loved me… “Touch me, Brenda. Please.”

And she did, head sliding between my legs. I gasped, incomprehensible.

It was like the sunrise at midnight: familiar yet utterly beautiful — the sheer magic of the unexpected.
 

How her lips touched three, four places at once… I know it was impossible, but fuck; somehow she had traced the lineage of my every nerve. She knew exactly how to spread her caress until I felt my entire body cupped in her hand, intimately nestled in the fold of her exquisite tongue. I rose above myself, whimpering.

Goddamn, Brenda.
Who are you?

And then, she uncoiled the whip once more, snapped it above me, the small sonic boom making me shiver in remembrance. In reverence.

“Lia.”

I looked down at her, warm body wedged between my legs, lips stained and full. Her face was open, vulnerable to me once more and she breathed deep
—
warm air on my wet thighs.

She lowered her eyes, kissing my thigh. Whispered,“Don’t… don’t fucking break my heart. Please, Lia?”

I nodded, closing my eyes when I saw her adjust her grip on the whip, the other hand returning to my pubis, spreading me.

She pushed the handle inside me, filling me until I gasped, seeing stars and the foaming waves, the sound of her voice pushing me higher. She rubbed me, circling me, my attention returning to her, the line of her brow, the curve of her cheekbones, the sunlight in her eyes. She was beyond beautiful.

Rhythmic circles and Brenda’s eyes. My breath hitched and caught, lifting me.

“You’re almost there, Lia.” She leaned over, her teeth white and sharp. Her hands paused and I closed my eyes. Opened them.

She smiled, knowing red lips filled my vision, holding my fate between them. “Give it to me.” She pressed, hard. “Now, Lia.”
 

And I did, screaming, rising three feet above the bed, writhing against her whip and the fingers, the head that lowered to taste me. She withdrew and pushed again, changing the angle, my voice soundless as I strained against the handcuffs.

I didn’t need to let go — she tore it from me. Gave it back and took it again. And again.
 

Again
.

Once more and she let me fall softly, hands rubbing my trembling thighs. My arms shook as she unlocked the cuffs, her body leaning over me.

My Brenda.

I caressed her face, her neck. “I do love you, Brenda.”

She nodded, pulling me into her arms, her face loving and sad. Hopeful.

I folded into her, hearing the waves speak, rejoicing. Hearing the fragile moment stretching with the beat of our pulse.

I promise, Brenda. I promise.

~~~

We locked the beach house, Brenda sticking a rose through the handle. She stared at the flower – brilliant and bruised. Thorny. Beautiful.

Azina.

“Where did she go, Lia?”
 

I watched the guilt settle on her shoulders. The release of one burden and the taking on of another. I touched her back and she stiffened before taking a breath, relaxing into me.

Brenda. My Brenda.

I looked away, toward the waves that gave and took, endlessly.

“I will find her. Bring her back to you. To us.”

I promise.

Thanks for reading Onyx Mafia: Insatiable!

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Onyx Mafia: The Early Years (A Stand Alone Novella)
 

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Amazon.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve read the through the first book of Onyx Mafia and now you want to know more. How did Azina and Lia first meet? What is with their long held infatuation with Brenda? What’s the deal with Oscar? Questions, questions…
 

Come, get your answers.
 

The stand alone novella is intended to be read after Book One of the Onyx Mafia Insatiable series, (Episodes 1- 7), but I won’t hold it against you if you cheat…
 

Bad girls are always welcome here.
 

This story is approximately 17,000 words and is intended for mature audiences.
 

“Nice to meet you again Brenda,” Lia said, holding her hand out and smiling.
 

That outstretched hand made my stomach clench and I sucked my teeth in, trying hard not to stare at it. Beyond the hand her half naked body waited, breathing smooth and even. She wasn’t even trying hard.
 

“Brenda?” she said softly. Her eyes did that twinkle thing, hand still out.
 

Unh-uh. No way sister.
 

“I know what you’re doing, Lia.”
 

This time her eyebrows rose and a smile came over her face. A real smile, not a one of those sexy melt your kneecaps smiles.
 

“What am I doing Brenda?”
 

I leaned in, bringing my face closer to hers. “You'll need to up your game, Sweetheart. I’m not that easy.”
 

Lia laughed, delighted, and my heart skipped at the sound. She brushed a loose braid behind my ear, raising goosebumps where her fingertips trailed my skin. “Oh, Brenda,” she said,”I absolutely adore games.”
 

Onyx Mafia: Unquenchable (Book #2) Azina and Meghan: Episode 1

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~~~~~~~~~~

Lia's voice was low and amused in my ear. "Well, look who came back with tiny little claws."

Her fingers resumed their motions and I gasped into Azina's mouth, teetering on the very edge.

The distant sounds of sirens in the air... 

(Note, this is the second series in the Onyx Mafia world, though you can jump right in! Be sure to go back and gobble up all the delicious, sexy intrigue you've missed in the first series!)

~~~~~~~~

The sexy undercover agent Meghan Wallace is back, and this time she's ready to play harder and faster to achieve her goal, Lia Onyx. After negotiating an uneasy truce between the head of the Onyx Mafia and the FBI, Meghan has agreed to be the go-between, so to speak.

But, the only way Lia and Azina, the notorious and devastatingly gorgeous members of Onyx Mafia will let her inside their world is to live in their world.

On the 3rd floor of their own condominium, to be exact.

Meghan knows she's expected to roll over and succumb to their persuasive charms - like she nearly did before when they asked her to join the Onyx Mafia and it's many enticing benefits. But this time, she knows better. She knows exactly what she has to do to take this criminal organization down - and take it down hard.