Wedding Favors (15 page)

Her imagination put a riding crop into Thomas’s hands as he stood there in her hall, looking so good. He’d tap it against his palm, smooth the shaft between his fingers. Ask her,
Madison, have you been naughty?

“I’m not sure,” she heard herself say.

“That’s all right. It’s trust, not force.”

Thomas’s throat was dry, and it was all he could do to stand quietly and wait for her answer. She still had her hands raised defensively, her eyes challenging him. In his usual encounters, the lady would have already been begging for him to do what he liked. He’d gotten cocky with his sexual prowess, used to every woman wanting a chance to be with him. Madison was another story.

“I do want to give you this gift,” he said. “Maybe I should ask what you would like. Anything you desire, and I’ll give it to you.”

Madison wet her lips, making him remember her red tongue curling around the olive at the bar. “Anything?”

“Anything. I’m yours tonight,
cher.”

She tilted her head to one side, and Thomas held his breath. He’d never offered this to a lady before—always he was in control, telling her what they would do, when they would begin, when they would finish. But he didn’t want to rush Madison, the woman he cared for. She was like a precious gem in his hand, to be treasured, not tossed around like a worthless pebble.

“What I’d like,” Madison announced in a slow, sensual voice, “is to see your cock.”

Thomas hid his jump of surprise. He’d expected her to want to be stroked, to be brought to orgasm, to be put to bed relaxed and warm. She wanted to see
him
? If he dropped his pants now, she’d see a cock that was swollen so hard it was almost painful, a cock that was dying for her.

“You did say whatever I wanted,” Madison said as he hesitated. “Are you going to run out now and proclaim to the world that Madison Rainey is a slut?”

Sweet gods, what kind of asshole men did she know? “What is between me and my lady is always private, never food for gossip. And you aren’t a slut.”

“I didn’t think I was. But I’ve heard about locker-room talk.”

“In the locker room,
cher,
I only remind my brother how I kicked his ass at racquetball. Or basketball or whatever it was we just finished playing.”

Madison folded her arms, pushing her breasts against her bodice. “Does Marc ever kick
your ass
?”

“He does. And he reminds me about it.”

She tapped her finely formed foot in its sheer stocking. “It’s getting late. Are you going to show me? Or are you too shy?”

For answer, Thomas shed his jacket and draped it over the nearest chair. His tie followed, then the restraining cummerbund. He clicked off his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves, and finally popped open the catch on his pants. He let the slacks fall and pool around his ankles, and he followed those with his black satin boxers.

No fear that she wouldn’t be able to see his cock. It jutted out, thick and long, visible in the brilliant light of the overhead chandelier. Madison’s gaze went to it, her tongue playing on her lips again.

Thomas’s balls were so tight they ached. He wanted to shove the pretty tulle skirt out of the way, part her thighs, and take her in a good, hard fuck. He wanted to turn her over and work on her sweet, petite little ass until it opened for him, and then he wanted to fuck her there. He wanted her to scream in pleasure until she couldn’t scream anymore, and then he wanted her to smile at him in gratitude for giving her the pleasure.

After that he wanted to kiss her lips, curl up with her in bed, and protect her from any other man who wanted to do the same.

She put one hand on her hip, rocking her heel as she touched fingertips to her lips. “It’s not bad,” she said.

Not bad?
“Glad you like it.”

“What I really want to do is suck it.”

Look at her, all challenging, thinking she wants to dominate.
Thomas never let his subs touch him until they understood that the play was all about their pleasure, that he got his pleasure from mastering and fulfilling their desires.

Now he was getting his rocks off watching Madison trace her lips with one fingertip and gaze longingly at his cock.

He swallowed. “Come here, then.”

Madison crossed the hall slowly, her skirt rustling like leaves in the wind. She stopped when she stood face-to-face with him, only the length of his cock keeping them apart. The tulle touched his tip, the scratchy fabric incredibly erotic.

Thomas had never seen her beautiful face this close. On their best-forgotten date, it had been pitch-black out when they’d started kissing and groping in the front seat of his pickup. He’d never looked at Madison from inches away, allowing himself to gaze into her soul-dark eyes.

“How do you like to do it?” he asked her.

Madison blinked. “The usual way, I guess.”

Thomas’s breath caught. She was still an innocent. Any man she’d gone down on had probably only wanted cock in mouth, quick come, finished.

“I’ll teach you a new way,” Thomas said. “You’ll have to keep my cock sated, or I’ll just want to fuck your mouth and come fast. You need to lick it, touch it, get to know it. Then you suck it, slow and sweet.”

Madison listened, her eyes darkening. She gave him a nod.

Thomas caught her before she could descend to her knees. He cupped the back of her neck, pulled her up to him, and kissed her.

He tasted the bite of cocktail she’d drunk at the bar, the sweet taste of Madison behind it. Her lips were soft, pliant, warm on his. She melted closer to him, his cock lost in the froth of her skirt. His mouth took hers, tongue moving gently, not mastering.

He needed this kiss. He needed to taste her, to feel her tongue in his mouth. She arched up to him, her hands curling around his back, pressing her lips harder and harder against his. She wanted to be kissed as much as he wanted to kiss her.

Thomas wound his arm around her, feeling the curve of her waist through warm satin. He rarely kissed and held a woman—he pleasured them and he let them go, never completing the emotional connection. But he wanted to kiss Madison. To kiss her and hold her and sleep with her and wake up with her in the morning. He didn’t do that with women either. Thomas never wanted to be vulnerable.

Madison eased back from him and touched his face, tracing the line of his cheek. More things not allowed. And Thomas stood there and took it.

“Are you ready?” she asked him.

Was he ready? His cock was trying to poke its way through her skirts to find the warm nest of her pussy, ready to press his way home. He tried not to laugh. He was so hard he was pounding, and he thought he’d burst or die before she started. Imagining his come all over her face didn’t help.

He dragged in a raw breath. “You go for it, sweetheart,” he said.

Madison
held his hands to steady herself as she sank to the floor. She pooled the skirt under her to cushion her knees, then she put her hands on his hips and observed the penis in front of her.

Her heart raced behind her boned bodice, her blood so hot she thought she’d scald from the inside out. Thomas’s cock jutted out to her from a dark thatch of hair, the staff long and dark. It moved a little with his pulse, as though anticipating her mouth. Thomas’s hands were on his hips, fingers tight on his skin, the knuckles whitening as he waited.

Madison liked his salty, warm smell, his body heat enticing her to come closer, closer. She leaned into him, inhaling.

When she put out her tongue to lick the tight skin, Thomas flinched. Madison wanted to laugh. The gorgeous Thomas Dupree, who talked so confidently about mastering Madison’s desires, gasped when she touched him. She nipped his tip, and he flinched again, sucking a breath between his teeth.

“You keep doin’ that, you’ll regret it.” His voice dropped to a growl, commanding, no longer gentle.

“Will I?” She nipped him again.

“Madison.” The word held a warning.

“Tell me what you want,” she whispered.

“Lick it. Get it wet. Then take it in your mouth.”

Madison studied the cock, running her tongue over her lips. He was big, and she wondered whether he would fit.

“Do it, Madison.”

Madison had a wild impulse to obey, so compelling was his voice. But she took her time, touching the crown with her tongue, tasting the hot darkness of his skin. He smelled so good. She wanted to rub her face against his penis and balls, smelling him, tasting him.

She ran her tongue underneath the tip and circled the head again, wondering if he knew she’d been fantasizing about doing this when she sucked the olive off her cocktail stick. Her wish at the fountain had opened her mind to deeper, darker fantasies.

She widened her mouth, curled her tongue around him, and then took him between her lips.

Thomas let out a groan. He threaded fingers through her hair, imbibing sensation after sensation. The softness of her hair, the wet heat of her mouth, the flick of her skilled tongue ran together in his brain in a cloud of erotic ecstasy. He looked down, watching her lips pucker around his shaft, her dark lashes resting against her skin. She clutched his hips as though she feared he’d run away, but there was no reason to fear that.

Madison’s tongue rubbed the underside of his cock, and heat glided to Thomas’s anus, then down his legs to his toes curling inside his shoes. God, she was beautiful, this proud, lovely lady. She needed help and didn’t want to need anyone; she stood straight and strong but was so vulnerable at the same time.

And damn, wasn’t she good with her mouth? Thomas let his head rest against the doorframe as her tongue did its work. He resisted rocking into her mouth, not wanting to hurt her. Let her get used to him. His cock was so rock-hard it screamed at him, his balls tightening with each suckle. He wanted to fuck her lips, to lay her down and drive into her sweet pussy; he wanted to do so many things with her.

He wouldn’t come in her mouth, though. Thomas was always safe, and though he knew he was clean, he’d do her the courtesy of not worrying her. Her well-being was his responsibility, and he took it seriously.

Madison continued to suck, her mouth working, her fingers sliding around to his ass.
Oh, yes, cher.
Wouldn’t it be lovely if she learned how to touch him there, how to slide a butt plug into him while she sucked him off? The imagined pleasure of that heightened the pleasure of what she did right now.

He felt the pulses that meant he was about to come. He didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to pull out. But he would. He’d not rush her.

Madison felt Thomas deliberately remove his hands from her hair, clench his fists, try to step back. He wanted to stop. From his ragged breath, the swaying movement he couldn’t stop, the tension in his body, she knew he was about to come. He was trying to pull away before he did it all over her.

Well, too bad. As Thomas stepped back, Madison sank her fingers into his buttocks and pulled him onto her again. Thomas swore, his body jerked, and he groaned her name. At the same time, sweet liquid poured into her mouth, the seed of the man she’d been longing to taste for nine years.

 

 

Alexi
watched from the landing above as Thomas threw his head back, fists clenched, and cried Madison’s name. Alexi’s own cock stood up hard and tight as he imagined Madison’s sweet tongue on it and the pleasure that Thomas must be feeling.

These two belonged together. Alexi knew it, and deep down inside, they knew it, too. But there was a wall between them; Alexi could almost see the barrier shimmering between their bodies despite the most intimate act they were sharing.

Madison feared that no man would love her for herself, wasn’t certain any man could. Thomas feared exposing himself, being vulnerable. Ironic that a man who’d become a Dom worried that he wasn’t good enough for the beautiful woman on her knees before him.

It was through these two people that Alexi would make up for his sins and be allowed to return home, where he belonged. Exile was bitter, and Alexi had had enough of it.

That didn’t mean—he thought with a chuckle as he watched Madison dreamily swallow all the come that Thomas could pour into her—that he didn’t get to have any fun.

 

 

“
I
want to know everything about Keith Girard,” Thomas said when he walked into the office on Monday morning. “What kind of money he has and where, what he’s up to, what he’s done in the past, anything dirty on him. The dirtier, the better.”

Marc looked up in surprise from his computer, and their secretary, Angela, who sat in the chair to the right of Marc’s desk, raised her elegant brows. “A new case?” she asked. She gave Marc a disapproving look. “You never told me about a new case. I don’t have a file started.”

“It’s not a case,” Marc said. “It’s my brother’s new obsession.”