Serving Pleasure (6 page)

For her.

She didn’t respond, but she did shift restlessly under him. God, how long had he been lost in her pussy, eating her out, before she’d told him what she needed? The last thing he’d do was deny her pleasure. “Shh. I know. You need to come.” He could do that much. Women’s bodies, he understood.

She nodded and made a pitiable mewling sound, her hips arching. His hands pinned her down and limited her movement.

He stroked her inner thigh. She was so damn perfectly formed.

A vision flashed in his mind, of her spread out on the couch in his studio, bathed in sunlight. He could paint her like that.

No. Don’t bring work into this. It’s enough you’re breaking your long celibacy here. One milestone at a time.
“What gets you off quickest? Show me.”

Her lashes fluttered, and he wondered if perhaps he was pushing her too hard. Maybe she was too shy to—

Nope.

There was nothing shy about the long fingers that cupped her pussy, nothing remotely bashful of the thumb that rubbed her clit in tight, focused circles.

He drank in her actions, memorizing every move of her body and fingers, before lowering his head. “Keep that up,” he said quietly, and sank his tongue inside her again. She gave a small shriek, her thumb’s motions becoming tighter and harder on her clit.

Once he was certain he had her rhythm down, he pushed her hand aside and took over, closing his eyes so he could properly savor the feel of her round clit beneath his thumb and the sweetness of the pussy he was fucking with his tongue.

He knew when she was coming, her hands clutching at his head and her muscular channel contracting around his tongue. She was going to tear his hair out and he didn’t care.

Exultant satisfaction coursed through him when she fell back limp, and he gave her pussy one last lingering lick.

Yes. He could at least manage this.

R
ana stared
at the ceiling of her foyer and contemplated every facet of her destruction.

It wasn’t that she’d never had a good lover before. She’d had some fine lovers in the past. Unfortunately, none of them had ever made her feel like she was having a religious experience when they went down on her.

Maybe it was because it had been a while? Or the desperate enthusiasm with which he approached eating her out? Or the scar that rasped over her intimate flesh, giving her the perfect bite of roughness?

She blew out a puff of air. Whatever the fuck it was, this could be a real problem. She had anticipated great sex. She hadn’t anticipated having her soul ripped out and stomped on.

Don’t be melodramatic. It was an orgasm. A powerful one. A very, very, powerful one. But an orgasm. No big deal.

Hell, she hadn’t even seen his body yet. Maybe the best was yet to come.

Pun intended.

She raised herself up on her elbows, aware she was splayed in an undignified, naked heap on her foyer floor. As comfortable as she was with her body, she suffered a momentary pang of self-consciousness, and she moved to close her legs, but Micah was in the way. She met his eyes and inwardly reeled at the hot darkness within.

If she wasn’t so spent, she would have made grabby hands at him, but it was all she could do to curl her fingers. A tingle ran through her.

She’d always been greedy. Another flaw.

He ran his thumb over his lip, not taking his eyes off her. The dim light of the foyer gleamed over the wetness on his face. Her wetness.

She managed to bring herself to a seated position. His eyes dipped over her breasts and stomach, lingering over her pussy. “You’re still dressed,” she pointed out, feeling foolish at the obvious statement.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I am.”

So greedy.

She held out her hand, relieved it wasn’t shaking. If it had reflected the wobbliness of her emotions, it would have been. “We should fix that.”

He stared at her hand. The moment stretched between them for so long, Rana wondered if maybe she had misread the painful desire strumming through his body.

Mentally, she snorted. Like she could have mistaken his excitement to fuck her with his mouth. The man had been all in to go downtown.

Finally, he slipped his hand in hers and helped her get to her feet, his eyes hooded. She ran her fingers down his chest, over the buttons of his shirt. “You’re good at that.”

“What?”

“Going down on a woman.”

His thick, angled eyebrows lowered. “It’s a personal favorite.”

She had to bite back her sigh of longing. Why was she not tying this man up and keeping him in her bedroom for the indefinite future again?

Oh right, blah blah, happily ever after, blah blah, turning a new leaf, blah blah, meeting Mr. Right.

But he likes eating pussy! He’s good at eating pussy. Are you aware of how often those two magical qualities overlap? He’s like a leprechaun riding a unicorn.

Rana gave a mental groan. Nope, sorry. She would not be getting distracted by a mystical mouth. Time to think about something else.

She raised her hand and grasped a lock of his hair between her thumb and forefinger. She’d yanked that motherfucking elastic out of his hair like she was personally offended by it, and she hoped she hadn’t hurt him.

Why hadn’t she found long hair attractive before this? It was thick, and coarser then she’d imagined, but shiny. The almost-black mass fell to his shoulders, the ends blunt and rough, like it’d been a while since he’d had a good haircut. “I like your hair.”

He shrugged and grasped a handful of her hair. The slight tug on her scalp made her want to purr. “Yours is prettier.”

“Mmm.” His mouth drew her attention. He smelled like some woodsy cologne and man and her. “Question.”

“Yes.”

“Your scar…”

She was so attuned to his body, she could feel the instant non-sexual tension invaded his muscles. In the same split-second, she changed her mind, shelving the question she was going to ask. The question he was apparently dreading. Hell, it was none of her business where he’d gotten the damn thing.

She could control
some
impulses. Especially when she might hurt a man who’d shown her nothing but generosity until now.

“Yes?” he bit out, when she didn’t speak.

She cupped his head, her fingers subtly massaging his scalp until he relaxed. Then she closed the distance between them…and licked the scar, from where it started on his lip, following the silvery line across his cheek. The moan he gave was strangled, his body going stiff and hard against her. “I’ve…I’ve been wanting to do this, is all.” Not a lie. She took a step back and swallowed, tasting herself.

Sweet Mary, she was going to have fun tonight.

His chest was working hard, his face set in rigid lines of pained arousal. Poor baby. She hooked her finger in the vee of his shirt and tugged. He was too large for her to move, but he swayed toward her by an infinitesimal degree. “Why don’t we go to my bedroom, and we can see what other favorite things we can discover?”

Though she was entirely naked, and she was certain he liked looking at her body, his eyes didn’t leave hers. “Lead the way.”

She walked ahead of him and mounted the stairs, only a little self-conscious that her bare butt was in his face. They were halfway to the second-floor landing when he gave a rough groan. Large hands wrapped around her hips and halted her.

She shivered when his lips brushed the curve of her ass, only to jump at the nip he gave her. Rana glanced over her shoulder at the dark head below her. “You keep that up and this is going to end right here.”

His finger traced the crease of her buttocks. “I have no desire to end this.” The finger insinuated between her cheeks, gently testing her.

“My bedroom?” She meant it as a statement, but it came out as a squeaky question.

He stroked his hand over her ass, over the spot he had bitten. “Hurry.”

Yes, hurry. The sooner she got him inside her, the sooner she could bang him out of her system and forget him.

She ignored the part of her that laughed in amusement over the thought of her ever being able to forget him.

He’d told her to leave her blinds open, so she’d done just that, eager to eliminate any ambiguity over her welcome. Moonlight streamed in to her bedroom. He didn’t look around at all, his entire focus on her.

She didn’t want to miss a single detail. “Can you hit the light switch by the door?”

He didn’t move right away, but then he shook his head. “I like it like this,” he said quietly.

Ooookay. “But I want to look at you. Especially once you’re naked.”

He took a step toward her. “You’ve already seen me.”

From many, many feet away, while she struggled with a paralyzing sense of shame and guilt.

Another step. She backed up. Not because she wanted to get away, but because it would get her nearer to the bed behind her. “Not up close.”

His gaze dragged over her body, making her sizzle. “There’s enough light.”

“I want more.” She wasn’t arguing for argument’s sake. If this was a one-shot deal, she wanted enough memories to store away. That way she could take them out and cuddle them when she was in her lonely bed.

“I’ll be on top of you and inside you. You’ll be able to see the important things.”

Was he shy? Did he think she wouldn’t like his—?

All coherent thought fled from her brain then, because his hands went to his belt.

Forget the light. She could squint. They had more important things to do.

The buckle clinked as he undid it and pulled the belt free of its loops. It hit the oak floors with a thud. She held her breath as he unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, the widening vee revealing the bulge of his cock beneath dark cotton fabric.

He treated his pants with the same disregard as his belt, kicking them aside. He unbuttoned his shirt, but didn’t strip it off right away. The crisp bright white framed his ridged abs and powerful chest. His thighs were like tree trunks, muscle upon muscle, bunching and releasing as he came closer.

Unable to resist his rippled stomach, she traced a finger over the washboard, dipping it into his navel. His belly contracted, the bulge in his underwear growing. She dragged her hand down, until it caught on the wide waistband. “Boxer briefs,” she remarked, amazed her voice was so steady.

His lips quirked up at the corners. He was solemn, this one, not given to wide grins and jokes. That was okay. This was no joking matter. “You approve.”

“Very much so.” Her thighs were wet, her clit hard, her stomach in knots like she hadn’t just had a powerful orgasm on the tile floor of her foyer. Her fingers flirted with the reveal, easing the waistband of his underwear down, then up again. “Do you play sports?”

His stomach tightened as she traced the back of her fingers over his stomach. “Rugby. Or I used to. Now I run and lift.”

Rugby. She knew less than a thimbleful about rugby, except that it entailed large men ramming into each other. If it resulted in a body like this, she was on board with the sport, though.

She sank down on the bed so her face was level with his groin. She used both hands to ease down his boxer briefs, her mouth salivating as each hard inch of his cock was revealed, until he was free of the cotton completely. He wasn’t enormously long, but his cock was proportional to the rest of his body. Thick enough to fill her to bursting. She’d be stuffed.

As she watched, a drop of moisture appeared on that mushroom tip. If he’d let her, she’d tie him up somewhere and lick his cock all day. “We might be well suited for each other,” she said absentmindedly.

A fine thread of tension seized him, and she realized what she’d said and how it might be construed. Oops. Nothing permanent. Schooling her face into a teasing smile, she glanced up at him. “I mean I like giving blowjobs as much as you seem to like giving head.” Suiting action to thought, she wrapped her fist around his cock, lowering her lips to hover over the tip. A sizzle of heat ran through her when she realized she could barely get her hand around him.

He was going to feel so fucking good between her legs.

Before she could lick off the drop of semen tempting her, he placed his hand over hers, stilling her. “I want something else right now. I think you do too.”

Oh, dilemma. That ridiculously thick cock in her mouth or her pussy?

Her vagina clenched. Well, that answered that.

“Lay back.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. She scooted back on the bed and lay down. He stripped off his underwear and prowled up her body until he knelt between her spread and bent legs, his cock inches away from her.

He was still wearing his shirt, but she didn’t care. He could be wearing a rubber chicken suit and she’d let him between her legs.

Rubber.

Rana blinked. She lifted her leg and slapped her foot against his chest, halting him when he would have moved closer. His chest vibrated with a growl. A big palm slipped over her calf, fingers moving in a subtly massaging move that slicked over her muscles, turning her legs into jelly.

“Let me,” he said roughly. “Let me fuck you. Please.”

She could feel her willpower weakening at the desperate tone in his voice. Hell, she could feel it weakening at the mere thought of his sexy penis.

Yet, there were some things Rana did not compromise on. Even when she had a man with a dick like a fertility god’s mere inches away from where she needed him most. “Condom.”

He froze so fast, she thought he might have turned to stone. “You don’t have one?”

No. No. No. No. “You didn’t bring one?”

His chest rose and fell. “I don’t have any at home.”

Her eyes burned. Was she crying? No, not yet. She might, though. In pure frustration. She nudged his shoulder with her toes, maybe harder than necessary. “Then you stop at the pharmacy and you get some.” Rana heard her voice rising, and she breathed in deeply. Hell, she could yell at herself too. She could have made a pit stop on the way home as well. She had merely assumed…

He raked his hands through his hair. She’d had so many fantasies of that hair draping around her as he fucked her.

Thwarted because of a condom? Ugh. The orgasm she’d had downstairs suddenly seemed like the tiny tip of the iceberg of what she could get from this guy. She wanted more, damn it.

He stared down at her, eyes burning, surveying her spread body. She wanted to drag him onto her and damn the consequences, and he seemed to have the same idea. He shifted, the wet head of his cock brushing her thigh.

“Are you sure you don’t have something at home?” she asked, in mad desperation.

He shook his head. “I haven’t had a need for it…” His hand smoothed over her thigh, touching the spot his cock had. Her muscle clenched when she realized he was massaging his pre-come into her skin.

Oh Jesus. In a desperate bid to control both of them, she extended her leg, pushing him back. His eyes were hot when they met hers. “I’m clean. Are you on anything?”

What she’d give to say yes. “No.” She had stopped taking the pill a year ago. It played havoc with her emotions, and she didn’t need it for anything other than birth control. It had seemed like a pointless exercise in monthly tears and seesawing feelings.

That stymied him, but not for long. “I won’t come inside you.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Yeah. Next you’re going to say you’ll just put in the tip.”

He frowned. “I’d never be able to put in just the tip. If my cock so much as brushed against your muff right now, I’d be balls-deep before you could scream.”

Her leg weakened, and he took advantage of it, running his hand over her leg to the crease of her groin, his calloused fingers playing with the sensitive skin there. “Or,” he said, in that steady, deep, posh voice, “I can tongue-fuck you again. All night.”

She struggled to find her breath. “You really do like that, don’t you.”

“Always.” His eyes gleamed. “Especially with you. It’s like your pussy was waiting for my mouth. No one’s ever tightened up on my tongue like that.”