Claiming Magique: 1 (3 page)

She released her weight into him,
then
wiggled her ass against his erection.
As a test or a tease?

Didn’t much
matter.
He’d survive this game and come out
on top, literally. Fighting a smile, he next concentrated on the left seam,
locating the fastener. Little by little, he eased it down, stopping at the
curve of her hip, resting his hand on it to see what she’d do.

With her right arm lowered, she
turned her face to his as she had in his fantasy.

A bit closer and their mouths would
touch, and then they’d be necking like horny teens. Or she’d be doing that with
Tim and David after telling him to leave because he’d assumed too much, making
his next move before she decided to allow it.

Steeling himself, Hunt continued to
keep his distance, making her want their coming pleasure as much as he did.

She smiled, all sassy and confident
as though she’d won their unspoken challenge. “Thank you,” she purred, then
looked away, her hair falling across her face, hiding it.

Hunt made a noise of acknowledgment,
struggling against an impulse to bring her to one of the chairs, haul her on
his lap and direct her to take his cock inside her damp cunt. He sensed she
would have enjoyed that, having seen her desire in the flush of her cheeks, the
longing in her expression. So what now? It seemed she was waiting for him to be
a good boy and move back. No way until he was ready.

He regarded the sides of her dress.
They’d fallen away from her body, the deepening V exposing a lot of skin.

Heat rushed to his face and chest.
He didn’t see the lacy edge of a bra or a thong. Was she nude beneath the
garment?

Eager to know, he stepped back.

With a gentle twist of her shoulders
and torso, the sheath slipped down, whispering over her hips and thighs,
dropping to her feet.

Naked, she stepped away from her
clothing. Without a backward glance, she headed toward the door on the right.
Her ass was as plush as Hunt’s fantasies had predicted, the cheeks bouncing
with her graceful steps.

He pulled in a ragged breath.

She turned the crystal knob, the
angle of her body revealing the curve of her breast.

The door swung inward, showing the
bedroom beyond.

She felt them behind her, their
powerful bodies restrained for the moment, revealing their doubt as to what
they should make of her behavior or how they should proceed.
Casually?
With unrestrained passion?
Somewhere
in between?

Before she’d spoken to David in his
native Mandarin, the poor guy had looked torn between fleeing and remaining
here, his sharp features both strong and sensual, his manner oddly innocent. He
would be a gentle lover.

She didn’t want that. She craved
passion and strength, demanding a man’s full attention to her, no one else.
When they left her bed, she wanted their desire for her to be soul deep, to
occupy their minds through the endless days ahead.

Tim wasn’t that man. He’d been tense
with lust as they conversed in French, telling her that he expected a good
time, his demand husky with promise, not quite matching his conservative
appearance and cool blond looks. He reminded her of a presumptuous little boy
used to getting his way.

Not in her bedroom.

And then there was Hunt.

She stopped well short of the bed,
her body weakening as she recalled his dark-blue eyes, long lashes and his
teasing comment about Pig Latin. A grin spread across her face, but only
because he couldn’t see it.

She didn’t want him knowing how much
she enjoyed the memory of his irreverent humor. Something about him excited her
too deeply, and it had nothing to do with his potent good looks.

At thirty-two, he was a man in every
sense of the word, his broad shoulders and height deliciously masculine.
Beneath his well-tailored blue suit and crisp white shirt, she sensed the hard
planes of his body…lean yet nicely muscular.

She’d felt his hunger for her when
she’d leaned into him. His cock had thickened, becoming even harder against the
seam of her buttocks. He’d accepted her weight, seeming to require it.

Such a pleasant moment, she’d had to
restrain herself from making it even better, turning into him, running her
fingers over his bristly cheeks, rich mouth and dark-brown hair, so thick and
wavy a woman would be hard-pressed not to bury her face in those locks. His
bronze skin radiated heat. His expression was unashamed, eager for whatever
came next. He wanted it all and then some. Beneath his passion, she’d seen
something else for a moment.
Jealousy at her attention to his
friends?

The question was why and had
everything to do with his ego rather than any feelings he could possibly have
for her. They were strangers and would continue to be so. Tonight wasn’t about
an emotional connection that could turn out bad. She’d learned the danger of
that unending hurt in the past. The coming hours would focus on pleasure and
he, even more than the others, would see to everything she required.
A man taking her without restraint, yet conceding to her demands.

Confident of her power, she
continued across the room. Antique wall sconces lit the ample space, creating
pools of cozy yellow light. The walls were as pale as the winter sun, the
fireplace of white marble,
the
vintage Italian
nightstands painted cream, which made the bed seem a bit more colorful.
Canopied and of an ornate brass design, it had diaphanous beige fabric draped
over the top, which cascaded down each gleaming post.

It was also specially designed, wide
enough to fit up to six adults.

Turning, she leaned against the
slatted footboard, hands behind her back, facing the men.

Hunt stopped a few feet from her,
his tie unknotted, his collar’s top button undone. He’d been leading the way
with Tim next and David, sweet David, bringing up the rear. They gaped at her
full breasts, the curve of her hips, the dark curls between her legs, trimmed
short so the contours of her cunt were visible,
the
pubic hair no more than a smudge against her fair skin.

She arched her back, giving them a
show, unmindful of the room’s windows, DC beyond. No one outside could see her.
The heavy drapes precluded it. These men were her only audience. They watched a
lock of hair slide over her shoulder and slip past her breast, stopping just
above her cunt. Their hungry expressions fed her carnal need. She kept her desire
hidden, choosing instead to make a demand.

“Tie me to the bedpost,
then
strip. Force me to watch you.
To
anticipate…to want.
The one who finishes before the others takes me
first.”

Tim and David exchanged a surprised
glance.

Hunt continued to regard her,
then
smiled.

Her heart turned over.

He wore the look of a marauder
facing a virginal maiden he’d just captured or a king who’d purchased a new
slave. His expression said she belonged to him now. She wouldn’t be free of his
lust until she’d sated his lewdest desires. There would be many. And she’d
comply without complaint or a moment’s rest until he granted it.

An unspoken protest rose within her,
along with a whimper of delight she managed to suppress.

He reached her easily, guiding her
to the left post as he pulled off his tie. Its soft swish against his collar
and his continuing silence were more exciting than anything he could have said.
Taking her wrists, he wrapped the narrowest end of the pale blue silk around
them. With a mastery that told her he’d engaged in bondage before, Hunt lifted
her arms, securing them to the post. As he worked, the edges of his jacket
brushed her naked nipples.

They peaked even more.

Exposed and vulnerable, she could
scarcely breathe. A pulse beat hard at the base of her throat and deep within
her pussy.

Tim mumbled something indistinct,
his tone sounding displeased as he pulled his crimson
tie
from his collar. David stared at her breasts as he yanked off his shoes,
hopping in place to regain his balance.

She expected Hunt to undress so he
would win this race to have her.

He didn’t. Unmindful of the others,
he ran his hands down the insides of her arms. Tingles dashed up them. She
clenched her teeth to keep from making any sound, allowing him to know how much
she liked this.

He seemed to realize it without
asking, stroking her smooth pits as he regarded them. For a moment, she thought
he’d press his face to that part of her and fill himself with her scent.
Instead, he cupped her breasts, his long fingers curling around the ripe globes.
A moan of delight bubbled up. She fought it. He flicked his thumbs over her
nipples.

Jolts of pleasure shot through her.
She pushed to her toes, her spike heels leaving the floor.

He smiled again, this one different
from his first, though not the smug kind Tim might have given, nor one of
innocence as David would have offered. Hunt’s was pure pleasure. The sort a man
indulges in when he knows he’s pleased a woman and is certain she wants him as
badly as he desires her.

Without thinking, she leaned toward
him, using the slack his tie allowed.

He smelled delicious.
A heady masculine scent reminiscent of leather and cherry tobacco.
What one would find in a men’s club or the seat of power. What a woman craves
on a lonely night, along with a man’s musky odor.

She longed for him to be naked so
she could press her nose to his hairy groin, his balls and cock, or even his
throat, capturing more of his cologne. However, she wasn’t about to give him
that satisfaction. Not yet. He was arousing her too effortlessly, his easy
confidence tipping the power toward him when it belonged to her.

Resisting him, she forced herself to
regard the others. David was multitasking, tugging off his socks, while keeping
an eye on what Hunt was doing with her. Tim was also watching, which made him
forget to undress. As she focused on him, he seemed to remember his clothes. He
tossed his jacket on one of the camel-colored wing chairs. The garment slid off
its arm to the floor. He left it, no doubt used to housekeepers looking after his
stuff.

Again demanding her attention to
him, Hunt dragged his large hands down her body over her hips to the insides of
her thighs.

Her breath caught. She shivered
without meaning to.

Her response encouraged Hunt to part
her legs and run his thumb down her slit. Damn. She tightened her jaw, but it
didn’t stop her whimper. Nor could she hide how damp her opening was, so
fucking ready for him.

He edged closer, trapping her with
his heat, fragrance and strength. Rarely had she felt as defenseless.

With his mouth pressed to her ear,
he murmured, “You’re already wet. Good.”

Bad.
He was presuming too much.

“Keep your legs parted,” he said.

Movement wasn’t something she could
do right now, though defiance was in her nature. She’d learned that being naughty
brought her the reactions she coveted, in particular, a man’s undivided
attention.

“Am I keeping them parted for Tim?”
she hushed. Her lips brushed Hunt’s
stubbled
cheek
with her words. “He’s nearly undressed.”

Hunt’s thumb stalled before reaching
her clit. He backed up a sufficient amount to strip, though not enough to allow
his friends near her. Off came his suit jacket, which he tossed behind him.

The garment landed on Tim, who sat
on a chair, untying his black leather wingtips. “Hey, watch it.”

Hunt toed off his shoes and peeled
off his socks.

His feet were big, his toes long.

Her mouth watered. She wanted more.
Not that she was about to let him know. “You’re all going too fast,” she
complained. “Strip slowly. Make me want.”

David had one shirttail out of his
pants and looked hesitant to pull out the other. Tim screwed up his mouth but
did take more care in removing his gold cufflinks.

Defiant, Hunt tore off his shirt,
flinging it aside. It landed near David and got Tim moving again, unmindful of
her directive. Hunt was well ahead of his friends, pushing down his slacks and
stretchy navy boxers. He stepped out of his garments and kicked them away.

This time, she didn’t bother to
watch where they came to rest. Hunt’s nudity absorbed her completely, making
her insides flutter. His
pecs
were muscular and
smooth, his nipples the color of cocoa, his abs so defined she could count each
one. Beneath his firm belly, a line of dark hair trickled to his groin. There,
it was thick and curly, certainly smelling of his musk and arousal.

Her lungs burned, reminding her to
breathe. It wasn’t easy given the feast that awaited her.

Prominent veins ran the length of
his cock. He was so
erect,
his shaft was elevated
slightly, seeming to point in her direction, proving that she’d soon offer it
shelter and comfort. The satiny head was ruddy with excitement. She imagined it
slipping past her lips, its heat on her tongue, the salty taste of his pre-cum.
A bead of the clear liquid glistened on the tiny slit.