Sugar and Spice (6 page)

Placing his hands on her knees, he pulled her legs apart, resting them over his own outstretched thighs. He felt her stiffen with the realization she was displaying her pussy for anyone in the room who cared to look.

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He sensed her fighting the impulse to close her legs and he decided a bit of reward was called for. Dragging his hands along the insides of her thighs, he touched her engorged clit with the tip of his finger, tapping it twice. She gasped and her head flew back, coming to rest against his shoulder. A fresh gush of juice flowed from her pussy and Ryan gathered it up, using the thick lubrication to ease his path as he rubbed his finger around her mons, toying with the tight entrance to her cunt.

She moaned again, louder, and Ryan glanced around the room. He could see that their play was gaining attention, their audience growing. He also knew Ginny was oblivious at this point to anything but his roaming fingers.

“Do you want more?” he whispered into her ear as she squirmed on his lap.

“Yes, please!”

“What do you want, Ginny? Tell me. Say the words.”

Her breathing was harsh, labored, and Ryan marveled at the fact she seemed perilously close to coming.

“I want
you
.”

“More specific,” he demanded.

“Your fingers, your hand inside me.”

“Inside your pussy?” he added for clarification, wanting her to become accustomed to the words.

“Inside my pussy,” she repeated.

“You said my fingers, my hand. Which is it, Ginny? I have a feeling you don’t really want my entire hand inside you. I doubt you’ve ever been fisted.”

Ginny shivered and he knew she was shocked by his crude comment.

“Your fingers,” she corrected, but her voice trembled as she spoke.

“You like the idea of taking my fist in your tight cunt, don’t you?” As soon as he asked the question he realized it was true. He shook his head against the thought. There was no way he’d ever hurt her and a fisting definitely fell into the pain category, but the 42

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fact she was actually considering such an extreme concept gave him hope that she’d try other, safer things with him.

“I…I don’t know,” she admitted and again he was blown away by her honesty.

“Well, wildcat, you’re going to have to make do with my fingers tonight.” As he spoke, he dipped his hand lower, gathering up more moisture, stroking her clit several times before thrusting two fingers deep inside her pussy.

“Oh my God!” she cried out as he felt her inner muscles contract against his fingers.

She came hard and loud and Ryan became aware of the fact that all activity in the room had ceased. He felt every eye in the place watching Ginny as she gyrated against his lap, lost in the throes of her orgasm.

When she began to settle, he whispered in her ear, “Open your eyes, Ginny. Look at them. They’re all watching you.” His fingers, still buried inside her, began to thrust again and he added a third to the first two. He felt her shock as she realized everyone in the room was watching the show they were putting on. He wondered if she balked at the thought—then he felt the slightest quivering begin in her pussy. Christ, she was going to come again. The idea of being watched clearly excited her as more moisture soaked his hand.

“You love this,” he said, not quite masking the amazement in his voice. “You love having them watch, don’t you?”

She nodded, but he wanted more.

“Say it,” he commanded harshly.

“I love it when they watch,” she admitted before turning her head slightly so it rested in the crook of her neck.

“Don’t hide your face, wildcat. They all think you’re beautiful too. Can’t you see it in their eyes? They all wish they were me.”

She turned and looked out into the room as Ryan increased the pace of his thrusting hand. She cried out, shoving her hips forward, silently begging for more. He obliged 43

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her by adding his thumb to the play. Countering each shove of his fingers in her pussy with a slow, hard rub on her clit, he tightened his grip on her as she shattered in his arms, her orgasm coming harder, louder, longer this time.

Her reactions left him burning, hurting, and he fought against the painfully hard erection threatening to rip the material of his dress slacks. He knew the show was scheduled to begin soon, but he found it impossible to care. They’d catch the next one.

He rose quickly—well aware that Ginny was still lost in the haze of her powerful orgasm—and carried her out of the room and down a long hallway. Placing her on her feet and wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her, he reached into his pocket to pull out a key.

“Where are we?” she whispered, her wits beginning to return.

“My room,” he answered as he opened the door and led her inside.

The sound of the door closing and the lock clicking into place seemed to rouse her further still. “Where are my clothes?”

“An attendant will retrieve them and deliver them here.”

“This is
your
room?” she asked.

“I’m a gold-card member,” he reminded her. “That means I have my own room, decorated and maintained according to my personal preferences.”

His answer piqued her interest and he watched her look around, taking in the room’s furnishings. He wished he could read her mind, desperate to know what she was thinking as her gaze landed on some of the more unusual pieces.

“Oh,” she murmured and he leaned back against the door, studying her face. He watched her eyes widen and her face go pale when they landed on the small cage in the corner of the room.

“I won’t put you in the cage,” he assured her quickly. “In fact, I can call for the attendant to take it away right now. I know you’re claustrophobic.”

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Ginny turned and gave him a breathtaking smile. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Jesus, Ginny. I’m not likely to forget a thing like that. It was my fault you got locked up in that trunk in the first place.”

“You didn’t know the latch was broken and it
was
a pretty cool hide-and-seek spot.”

Her words were easy and calm now, but Ryan had never forgotten the look on her face when he and Anderson had finally managed to free her from the old trunk he’d helped her hide in during a childhood game. She’d run straight into his arms and stayed there, shaking for ages. They’d never played hide-and-seek again and Ginny’s intense fear of tight, confined places was born.

“I’m not sure I know what all of this is for,” she said, dragging him from his recollections as she walked over and ran her hand along the St. Andrew’s cross dominating one wall of the room.

He grinned at her undeniable curiosity and again, he was amazed by the fact she wasn’t freaking out and running away. The place must look like some sort of medieval torture chamber to her untutored eyes.

“I’m going to show you.”

Her gaze returned to him, traveling down his body. She unconsciously bit her lower lip as she studied the all-too-prominent erection tenting the front of his pants.

“Don’t be afraid, Ginny.”

She looked up at his face, insulted by his words. “I’m not scared,” she retorted and Ryan was reminded of her saying those words a thousand times as they were growing up. As the only girl in a gang of rough boys, she was constantly forced to prove herself.

“No, you’re not,” he agreed quickly. “But maybe you should be.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Not with you, Ryan. Never.”

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Again, he was overwhelmed by her faith in him. She genuinely believed he would take care of her, make this good for her.

“Come here,” he ordered, crooking his index finger at her.

She walked to him and attempted to wrap her arms around his neck. He grabbed her wrists roughly and pulled them to her sides.

“I won’t make this easy for you, Ginny. I can’t,” he confessed, trying to give her one last opportunity to run, although at this point, he wasn’t sure he’d let her make it through the door. There was no way he could let her go.

She gave him a sassy grin and wiggled her eyebrows. “Travers, if I wanted easy, I sure as hell wouldn’t be here with you.”

He laughed at her familiar teasing. For nearly twenty years they’d fought like siblings, played with each other as children and worked side by side as colleagues.

Tonight, they would add lovers to that list and the thought of it sobered him up.

“I thought I told you to call me Ryan,” he said gruffly.

“Ryan,” she whispered.

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“Go lay down on the bed,” he commanded.

Although he wanted to try everything with her, he knew he’d never last long. She seemed to be shattering all of his hard-earned control. For the first time since he was a teenager, all he could think about was burying himself between a woman’s sweet thighs and pounding his way into oblivion. There would be plenty of time for experimentation, for exploring after he’d relieved a bit of the pressure threatening to blow the end of his cock off. Christ, this wasn’t like him. He was an experienced lover, a serious Dom, yet all he could think about right now was getting inside Ginny’s body.

Ginny seemed to share his anxiousness as she quickly crossed the room to the luxurious king-sized bed that occupied one whole wall. She turned once she reached it and looked back at him.

“How do you want me?”

She was asking for more detailed instructions. Holy shit, where did this woman come from? His mind kept telling him to get it together. This was Brooks he was about to fuck. Problem was, the demands of his body were drowning out the logic in his brain, demanding that he touch her, kiss her, bind her, command her.

“Pull back the covers and lay down in the center.”

She obeyed his orders as he slowly walked toward her. As he moved, he began to undress. Ginny’s gaze never left his body, her eyes devouring every inch of the flesh he revealed to her bit by bit.

“Open your legs, Ginny,” he said sharply. “Never close them.”

She hastily did his bidding as he kicked off his shoes and quickly divested himself of his pants and boxers. Her eyes widened at the sight of him completely naked and he wondered what she was thinking.

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“You’re on birth control?” he asked.

She nodded once, her gaze never wavering from his cock.

“I’m clean, Ginny,” he continued and she quickly looked up at his face. “I’ve never fucked a woman without a condom, but I won’t wear one with you. If you don’t want that, tell me now.”

“I just want you, Ryan, with nothing between us.”

He fought back a groan at her words and climbed on the bed, lying down beside her. Leaning down, he took her lips in a kiss that wiped away every wayward thought in his mind. He wanted her. He would have her. He remained over her, kissing her, running his fingers through her hair, savoring each whimper, each heated breath that passed from her lips. Hours seemed to go by and yet he couldn’t break the connection of their lips, their tongues. He could kiss her like this forever and never want for anything more in life.

“Ryan!” she cried, pulling back, her body restless, flushed, obviously ready for the next step.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice rough with his own painful desires.

“You,” she breathed.

He shook his head. “Not good enough. Tell me, Ginny. Tell me what. Tell me how.”

“God!” she cried in frustration. She beat at his chest with her fists and he fought back a grin. It was apparent handing over all control in the bedroom was going to be a challenge for her.

Rather than acknowledge her comment, he simply bent forward and resumed his kissing. She succumbed to the first touch of his lips, grabbing his hair and roughly pulling him closer. He allowed her the brief moment of power before reaching up and disentangling her fingers.

Moving back, he looked into her eyes, studying her face, familiar and yet utterly new.

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“You are so lovely,” he murmured.

“Ryan,” she answered breathlessly. “Make love to me.”

Her words, so sweetly innocent, took him aback as he realized that was exactly what he planned to do. Every sexual experience in his life had been straightforward— albeit creative—fucking. He’d never made love to a woman and he pondered the sadness of that fact before he looked at Ginny’s beloved face and smiled. It seemed that he and this exquisite woman were destined to spend their lifetimes as each other’s firsts. Her first kiss. Her first orgasm. His first real lover.

He rose over her, surrounding her with his body. She was so soft and warm, he pondered how he’d spent a lifetime in her presence never touching her. She welcomed him between her thighs and he settled there before returning to the pleasure of just kissing her. He’d never spent much time on the art of kissing, of appreciating each warm breath, the sweet taste of a woman’s tongue in his mouth, the delicacy of rubbing her soft lips with his. For a moment, he was swept back in time and he felt like they were twelve again and the mystery of kissing was magical, new.

Despite Ryan’s desire to savor her kisses, he could feel Ginny’s impatience for more.

“Please, Ryan,” she whimpered and he knew her body was in overdrive, desperate for him to come inside her.

Sitting back on his knees, he dragged his hands slowly down her lovely body, teasing her sensitive skin with his fingers. He cupped her breasts in his hands, bending down to steal one more taste, one more suck of her tempting nipple. She groaned as his lips enveloped the tight nub and he drew the peak more firmly into his mouth. His tongue darted out to circle the areola before his teeth gently nibbled.

“Oh my God,” she whispered and Ryan chuckled as her hips began frantically searching for him.

“Soon, wildcat,” he murmured against her flesh and she hissed at him, moving against him faster, harder. Again, Ryan was reminded of the past. The memory of 49

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Ginny’s wild thrusting against his fingers as he offered her that first taste of what it meant to have an orgasm.