Authors: Kimberly Kaye Terry
“I
t wasn’t like that, I—”
“Oh, no? Then what
was
it like, Brandan? From where I stood, it appeared as though that was
just
what it was,” she countered.
With that, she slid her shoes off her feet, although sliding wasn’t exactly what she did. She kicked them off so hard they skidded across the ceramic tile flooring and landed with a soft whoosh against a corner of the room.
Damn. She was pissed off.
“Look, I don’t know how much you heard.” He began to walk toward her as she busied herself in her kitchen, opened a cabinet and furiously slammed a old-fashioned looking red tea kettle in the sink, and filled it with water.
He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her to calm down. There wasn’t any use trying to talk to her until then.
But he wasn’t about to leave and allow her to stew and think all kinds of shit about what had happened, things that weren’t true, without defending himself.
He glanced around the loft, and although his mind was on her and her alone, he admired the eclectic design of her home, one that mimicked the café, a curious blend of antiques, modern, and straight-out funky looking furnishings dominated the large, open loft.
The living area, in fact the entire loft, was open, and the only area that was sectioned off was the kitchen and, his eyes spanned over the area, the bedroom. Or the bed to be exact. It was raised and positioned on a high dais. There was also a sectioned-off area which he assumed was the bathroom.
His eyes went back to the bed dominating one corner of the large loft.
It was a four-poster canopy, complete with sheer red netting that wrapped around the circumference of the bed, enveloping it, giving it the appearance of a warm, inviting cocoon.
He turned back to her and caught her staring at him.
“You know what? I really thought, stupid me, that there was more to—” she waved her hands around and then blew out a harsh breath, “us, whatever…hell, I don’t even know what to
call
this strange relationship of ours,” she admitted, running a shaking hand over her hair.
“What’s so strange about it?” he asked, walking closer to her. “We’re two people who are getting to know each other. Two people who are attracted to one another. All the rest, is it really important?”
“This was a bad idea,” she said, slamming the teapot down on the counter, facing him.
“What was a bad idea? You inviting me in, or you throwing a tantrum over nothing?” he asked.
“I know what I heard!” she said, coming from behind the small kitchen island.
When she went to walk past him, he grabbed her wrist.
“You need to let go of me. Now,” she said, her mouth tightening, eyes narrowed as she stared down at his hand, loosely wrapped around her wrist.
When he ignored her, kept his hand firmly circling her wrist, she jerked her arm, snatching it out of his grip. When she moved to walk away from him, he grabbed her, hauling her close to his chest.
“Let me go. You’re going too damn far,” she bit out furiously.
“No, not until you listen to me, Leila! I wasn’t trying to manipulate you, trick you, sabotage you, or whatever the hell else you’re thinking!”
“Let me go,” she said again, as though he hadn’t heard her the first time.
“Damn, you’re stubborn! What do I have to do, to say, to show you that you mean more to me than what I can get out of your property?”
A furious expression crossed her face, and when she hauled back a hand as though to hit him, he caught her wrist, holding it tight, yet not tight enough to hurt her.
“I wouldn’t suggest you do that,” he murmured, his breath coming out in harsh gasps as though he’d just run a marathon.
“No?” she asked, her breath coming out equally harsh. “And what do you suggest I do? And what are you going to do about it?” she threw the challenge at him, the ends of her nostrils flaring as her amber eyes roamed over his face.
“This,” he bit out, and covered her mouth with his.
She grabbed onto the back of his head and pulled him tighter, closer. With a harsh groan he lifted her in his arms, and with long strides carried her to her bed.
He didn’t bother to release her lips as he swiftly divested her of her clothing. He simply snatched her skirt down her long legs, buttons and zippers ripping, and nearly tore her panties in half as he ripped them from her body.
Seconds later he’d taken off her blouse, and after fumbling with her bra, removed it as well.
“God!” he murmured as he pulled his lips from hers and gazed down at her laying beneath him, her golden-colored small breasts tumbling free. He firmly cupped one in his hand, thumbing the tight wine-colored nipple until it spiked hard and long.
Dizziness swarmed in Leila’s head when he took her nipple deep into his mouth, pulling the rest of her breast within the warm, wet cavern, and suckled her hard.
As he nursed her breast, she shoved her hands between them, unfastened the buttons on his jeans and eased a hand inside his shorts.
When she grasped his penis, she slid her hand over his thick shaft, and felt her own cream ease from her vagina at the thought of how hard and thick he was, and how good he would feel imbedded deep inside her.
Her anger vanished, going up in smoke while her passion, a lustful passion she’d had for months for him, even before they’d met, burned bright and hot. Temporarily, anger and hurt feelings were set aside.
Her body hummed with pleasure as his mouth, so wet, so warm, pulled and tugged at her breasts.
He pulled his mouth from her breasts and she cried out.
“Ssh, it’s okay, baby,” he murmured, and helped her shed his pants before tossing them over the side of the bed. He lifted his body from hers, pulled his shirt over his head, and turned back to face her.
Her breath caught at the sight of him in the dim light, kneeling on her bed. His thick shaft was long and so full, curved against his lightly furred stomach, and the bulbous knob thumped past his navel.
With a glint in his eyes he rolled on top of her and snaked his big, hard body down hers to settle between her thighs.
He leaned into the V of her legs and inhaled.
“Damn, your pussy smells good,” he groaned before pushing her legs up so that her feet lay flat on the bed, her knees wide apart.
Expecting to feel the strong sweep of his tongue against her folds, her body arced off the bed when she felt the tip of his tongue tap against the sensitive seam between her pussy and ass, his fingers digging into the cheeks of her buttocks, spreading it wide, so he could continue his freaky assault.
“No, God, what are you—”
She gasped, her words cut off when he plunged a thick finger deep into her core, while rimming her with his hot, wicked tongue.
He held her down when she would have bucked him off, trailing his tongue along the seam between her buttocks and pussy and down her inner thigh.
“Ummm,” she moaned and reared her body up, reaching down to grasp his head. With a guttural laugh he shoved her hands away and pinned them to side of her hips.
“No direction. I know how to steer, Lee,” he said, lifting his head to gaze at her.
The look in his eyes was so hot, so…hungry, it stole her breath. She bit the edge of her bottom lip and at his nudging, lay back down.
With a satisfied murmur he went back in, licking, stroking, and devouring her pussy. Her body hummed, her pussy flooded cream, and blood rushed to her head as sensation upon sensation hit her.
She mewled when he separated the lips of her vagina, and inserted one thick finger inside while steadily lapping at her cunt. Leila squirmed, rotating her hips around the invasive finger.
“You like this, baby?” he asked, and she felt his smile against her mound when she moaned an affirmative.
When he pulled his finger from out of her well, she cried out, pressing closer to him, wanting to feel his hot, talented fingers deep inside her body.
In the dark she saw him lift his finger to his mouth and lick off her cum from his finger.
“Nice and wet. And so damn sweet,” he murmured.
She tried to choke out a response, but he chose that moment to push her legs further apart and press his tongue deep inside her pussy.
“Oh God, Brandan, what are you doing?” she cried when he hollowed his tongue and speared deep inside her.
Her mewling cries became harsh, guttural, when he plunged two fingers, then a third, and finally the others deep inside her.
Her head tossed back and forth on her pillow as the pressure built, unbearably sweet painful pleasure swept through her while he slowly rotated his hand inside her body, dragging his balled fist in and out of her creaming core.
When he eased a finger of his other hand deep into her ass, the orgasm hit it hit hard.
Her torso jerked upward, she grabbed onto his head, ignoring his silent edict that she not, and ground herself against his head, her thighs death-gripping the sides of his face, her hips pumping to meet his piercing dual thrusts until her body exploded.
She released his head and her body fell to the bed. She grabbed the pillow and slammed it over her mouth in an effort to quiet her cries of release, nearly blacking out, her orgasm was so intense.
When she came back to awareness, he was crouched on top of her, his hard shaft stabbing against her stomach, and a look of intense lust shone in his light blue eyes.
The combination was lethal, deadly, to her already overwrought body. Her pussy throbbed and her gut clenched, and when the fine hairs on his chest rasped against her breasts, her nipples stood out in aching, stiff little points.
He grabbed his cock in his hand and began to feather it back and forth across her mound, toying with her clit and the lips of her vagina.
She closed her eyes, ready to feel all of that incredible dick deep inside her.
“Please tell me you have a condom,” he pleaded, his breath coming out in harsh gasps.
Leila’s eyes flew open as realization dawned.
God, she’d gotten so wrapped up in the pleasure he was giving that protection had been the last thing on her mind.
Although she was on the pill, she never,
ever
had sex without protection, something her Aunt Sadie had drilled into her from the time of adolescence.
That she’d been ready to do so with Brandan, with him not wearing a rubber, the thought not even crossing her mind, was something she’d analyze later.
Much later.
“Yes. Side drawer. Hurry.”
He bounced off the bed. Her eyes stayed glued to the rock-hard muscles in his tight, naked ass as they flexed when he bent down to retrieve the box of prophylactics. He ripped open the box and grabbed several small foil packages.
At her raised brow, he laughed. “No way in hell is one going to be enough.”
Leila gulped.
Her heart skipped several beats.
B
randan shut his eyes as he slowly invaded her slick heat, savoring the feel of her pussy walls clamping hard on his cock.
He’d licked and devoured her pussy, eating her sweet cum like it was nectar from heaven, finding her hot spots with his tongue.
And for the first time, as he slowly rocked into her, he resented the use of a condom.
She was so hot, so goddamn…wet, he could feel her heat sear his shaft, her pussy warm and wet, tightly gloving him.
“Shit!” he grunted as he fed her more of himself. He stopped when she gasped, her pussy clamping down on him like a vice.
“Wait…God…you’re so big. Damn!” she cried out. He stopped, although everything in him screamed for him to spread her legs further and shove into her tight creaming cunt.
“Okay…okay, baby, we’ll go slow…” He ground out the words and felt his entire body shake as he fought back the inclination to fuck her hard. To shove his cock into her as far as it would go until he reached the back of her womb.
She wrapped her arms around him, her short nails scoring his back. He welcomed the slight pain, his body trembling with the effort to hold back, to wait until she was ready for him before he went any further.
“God, baby, I don’t think I can wait much longer,” he said, his body now dripping with sweat, trickling down in hot splashes on her small, ripe breasts.
“Okay, okay, I think I’m ready. Ummm, you feel so good. So hard…so thick.”
“Keep saying shit like that and I’m fucking you now, hard and deep, whether you’re ready or not,” he said, releasing a pain-filled laugh when he felt his cock grow even harder with her moaning reply.
She laughed a breathless laugh, and he heard her swallow.
When the walls of her pussy relaxed around his penis, he ran his hands down the sides of her body until he reached her hips. Grasping them, he then began, in short experimental shallow thrusts, to flex into her.
He pressed a hand between them, withdrew her own moisture and circled her blood-filled rigid clit in tight circles until he felt her cream ease down his hands.
When her hips rose to meet his, his thrusts became stronger as he slid in and out of her slick honeyed depths.
Within moments, they’d each caught the other’s rhythm, and Brandan increased his depth of stroke, taking clues from her. With each movement of her hip and every contraction of her pussy on his shaft, he adapted his strokes to maximize her pleasure.
Leaning down, he captured one of her erect nipples and suckled on it, lapping and tonguing her as he rode her.
The pressure mounted with each jab and stroke until she screamed, “Yes…like that…please, God…yes…Brandannnn…” He cut her cries of pleasure off, slanting his mouth over hers, grasped her hands within his, and held them high above her head.
With each corkscrew thrust, as he jammed her body, his balls tightened painfully with the need to release his seed.
The orgasm almost broke free when he released her hands and cupped her tight muscled ass, and he stroked into her once, twice, and then a final time.
He pressed her into the bed, covering her completely, and ground into her sweet snatch.
Within moments, she broke.
She screamed, bucked against him strongly, almost unseating him, but he held on, stroking into her willing, warm core, determined to give her pleasure, his body taut, on fire, with his need to come.
When he felt her pussy clench, her inner walls tightly clamping down on his shaft, he threw his head back, every muscle in his body strained, and came.
His cum was so intense, it was startling in its intensity. A loud roar filled his ears, stars flashed before his eyes, yet he battled against the blinding release to catch one final look at her before his orgasm engulfed him.
Her expressive face in the dim moonlit room, as she held on to him, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Her eyes were tightly shut, her lips, red and swollen, were partially opened, and tears of release ran down her pretty honey-colored cheeks.
As he continued to stroke her, before bliss completely took over, he was stunned to feel matching dew moisten his own eyes, their cries melding in harmony, ending on a wailing note of passionate accord.