Seven (6 page)

For just a moment, he looked almost
disappointed, but then he smiled dryly so she assumed the first impression was
just wishful thinking on her part. “In what way?” he asked, both his expression
and body relaxing.

“I’m going to expect this kind of
performance from you regularly from now on.” There was safety in their teasing
banter—so she clung to it.

“In that case, you’re going to be
disappointed. This is not something that occurs every day. Lesser men wouldn’t
have the stamina. And even I… Well, most days my will of iron is slightly less iron.”

Amy giggled, feeling a little better.
“What a shame.”

He slid one hand up to stroke her
breasts. “If seven orgasms was a common occurrence, then this wouldn’t be much
of a challenge, would it?”

She closed her eyes as his mouth
closed around the nipple he’d been fondling, but she was closing them in a
pleasure that was only partly physical.

He shifted lower on her body,
trailing his kisses down to her belly. She sucked in her stomach instinctively
as he sweetly brushed his lips along her skin.

Her legs were already parting—her
thighs spreading unconsciously to make room for his chest and shoulders. His
hands slipped under her to cup her bottom. Raising her hips slightly, he poised
his mouth over her sensitive flesh.

“Whatever you do down there,” she said
breathlessly. “It doesn’t count. Remember, your cock has to be in play.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I know the
rules. I’m just killing time before my cock feels like playing again.”

She tried to stifle her amused grin
but didn’t do a very good job.

Then she didn’t feel like grinning at
all when he started to nuzzle her intimately.

Spreading her legs farther apart, she
bent her knees up for leverage to hold her hips in position. She was rather wet
and messy from their earlier lovemaking, but Owen didn’t seem to notice or to
mind. He nudged her open and gave her one long stroke with his tongue, causing
her to sigh in pleasure.

Then he used his lips and tongue to
tease and stimulate—alternating between her entrance and her clit and
occasionally making detours into the surrounding areas—until Amy was gasping
and grinding her pelvis into his face.

She held his head firmly in place. The
coiling pressure of an approaching orgasm was gathering slowly, despite all the
times she’d already come. “You know this doesn’t count. It’s a freebie.”

He chuckled, making her groan as the
vibrations shook her and traveled in shudders up her spine. He shifted a hand
so he could sink a finger into her wet pussy.

She arched dramatically on the bed,
clutching at his head and pushing it harder into her now throbbing arousal.
“Fuck, Owen,” she gasped. “How are you doing this?”

It seemed like she should get to the
point where her body would stop responding to him.

Another finger had joined the first,
and he was pumping them quickly in and out, matching the rhythm his tongue had
established as it fluttered over her clit. One of her legs jerked up suddenly
and hooked itself over his shoulder. She couldn’t help but clench her thighs
together, squeezing his head in between them.

He made a strangled sound and used
his free hand and his opposite shoulder to force her legs apart. Then he closed
his lips around her clit and started to suck hard—in retaliation, she supposed.

She cried out, as jolts of sensation overwhelmed
her. Her arms flew up to grab at the headboard, and she clung to it desperately
as her body started to quake.

He was giving her such pleasure,
playing her body like an instrument. And he was Owen—the man who was so much
more to her than the pleasure he could give her.

She felt his teeth chafe very gently
against her hot flesh. “Owen,” she choked out. “God, Owen, I…”

She was so close. So close to coming.
So close to speaking the words that had always been so unspeakable.

She loved him.
Loved
him.
There was no way to deny it was true. And now she desperately wanted to say it
out loud.

Swallowed over the words as her
climax started to crest because—pleasure or not—her feelings just weren’t
returned.

He hummed against her pulsing flesh.
The hum sounded almost like a question.

She pressed her lips tightly together
and released an urgent, helpless moan in lieu of the words she couldn’t say.
Thrashed beneath his mouth and fingers, frantically trying to reach another
peak.

Then the stimulation was gone. Owen
had lifted his head, his body. Removed his fingers from her pussy. Was kneeling
over her, naked and gorgeous.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she
would scream or cry. She’d been so close. So close to everything. And he had
stopped again, working her back up to the anguished frustration she’d
experienced before.

Her eyes darted down his body and saw
why he’d stopped. He still had a challenge to fulfill, after all.

And now his cock was once more very
much in play.

“Damn it, Owen,” she snarled, trying
to think clearly enough to decide what her strategy should be. No matter how
much she loved him and wanted to be loved in return, she wasn’t going to let
him win so easily. “You have no idea how much I hate you.”

He raised his eyebrows. Gave his
hard, bobbing cock a few quick tugs.

Didn’t appear to believe her.

Amy should really be
more upset that Owen was so close to winning this game.

It was the principle of the thing,
after all. He was far too arrogant and presumptuous for his own good—actually
thought he was invincible. And Amy had always believed it was her job to take
the smug bastard down a notch or two.

Plus, she really hated losing. Owen
had already produced five orgasms out of the seven required.

And he still had thirty-five minutes
left.

All of this meant that Amy couldn’t
just let Owen have his way. She was throbbingly aware that her body was just
waiting for Owen to do his thing. Oh, she could come twice more. No doubt about
that. It wouldn’t even take much work on his part.

So she had to do something drastic to
keep it from happening.

Owen would stop her if she tried to
go down on him, and he’d recognize any obvious attempt on her part to make him
come prematurely.

She’d have to be more creative than
that now. Even though she didn’t really feel like being creative. Even though
what she really wanted was for Owen to take her in his arms, find his home in
her body, and never let her go.

But that was irrelevant at the
moment. The only relevant issue was which one of them was going to win. So all
of Amy’s sappy feelings for Owen—that had risen unbidden in her heart—would
just have to be ignored so she could concentrate on essentials.

Owen was the one who had made this
about winning. He was the one who’d always turned to banter whenever things had
gotten too intimate between them. And he was the one who was leaving in
twenty-eight days.

Amy wasn’t going to lose.

“Fine. Give me another orgasm.” Scowling,
she added under her breath, “Cocky bastard.”

His lips twitched irrepressibly.

Fighting an answering smile, she said,
“But find a new position. You don’t get to loom over me like a caveman.”

He hadn’t really been caveman-esque
before she’d spoken—he’d simply been kneeling between her legs with a very
obvious erection. But at her words a familiar fire smoldered in his eyes. “Was
that a suggestion?”

“No.” Amy tried not to feel a thrill
at certain possibilities. Owen going all caveman would definitely be
counterproductive to her attempt at victory, so she’d best not encourage him.
“I explicitly told you there would be no caveman act from you today.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Kind of
bossy, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one who kept bossing me
around earlier, so I don’t think you can complain about me.”

Owen grinned and flopped over on his
back. He clearly was in better shape now that he’d come once. He looked turned
on but not overly urgent. “No caveman, then. I guess you want to be on top
again.”

“Yeah,” Amy agreed, although she was
feeling pretty tired and wasn’t sure she was up to riding Owen into ecstasy
once more. She really hoped her thighs were up to the challenge. But that
position would at least give her some control over the situation while she
figured out how she was going to win.

Stalling, she rubbed her hands across
his chest, feeling the gently rippling muscles and the hard planes and ridges.
Staring at the contrast between her fair fingers and his tanned skin, she
caressed him for a while in almost idle reflection.

When she glanced back at his face,
she caught a soft look that made her belly clench, but it disappeared before
she could name it.

She forced the fleeting hope away,
since it would only distract her. A victory was hanging in the balance. Drastic
measures were now necessary.

In fact, she might have to cheat a
little.

Just a little. And no more than he’d
already cheated. Turn-about, after all, was fair play.

Suddenly inspired, she lowered her
face to kiss a line across his collarbone. She could feel his body tense up
under the touch of her lips, and she slid her hands down to tease the sensitive
skin on his side. That made him jerk a little, causing her to smile over his
belly.

“Tickling is off limits,” Owen said
firmly, reaching up to tangle his fingers in her hair.

“Who says?” Her eyes darted up to his
face. “You seem to be making up all the rules here. You can use a vibrator and
you can go down on me. But I can’t go down on you and tickling isn’t allowed.
We didn’t sign a contract, you know, so everything is negotiable. I’ll tickle
you if I want to.”

She was only arguing to divert him
from her real agenda. Tickling wasn’t really her plan.

Looking very smug while keeping his
arms tightly at his sides, Owen replied, “Well, the negotiations on this are
over. No tickling.”

Amy tickled him—starting at his lower
sides and then squeezing her fingers up under his arms as he unconsciously
relaxed his defensive pose.

He made a rough noise in his throat,
one that Amy recognized as stifled laughter, and tried to capture her hands.
Giggling helplessly, Amy eluded his grasp for a little while as she danced her
fingers all along the places she knew he was most sensitive. Saw his body
twitch and his face set tightly in a frantic attempt at control.

Eventually, he managed to grab her
hands and held them away from his body. “Okay,” he said gruffly. “We’ll reopen
negotiations. What do you want in order to stop tickling me?”

This was working out better than
she’d expected. “I want you to lie still this time. Number six is up to me. You
just lie there like a good boy, and I’ll take care of everything.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you
planning something underhanded?”

She was. Very underhanded. But she
opened her eyes innocently and said with exaggerated wonder, “Me? What do you
mean? All I want is a nice little fuck.”

Owen obviously didn’t believe a word
she said. “Are you planning to cheat and suck me off?”

“Nope. I’m not prepared to agree that
that would be cheating, but there will be no sucking of any variety. I
promise.”

“And you’re not going to just sit
there on top of me, are you? In some sort of vindictive torture?” He looked
decidedly wary as her growing excitement started to buzz silently at every one
of her nerve ends.

She chuckled. “Nope. I’ll be making
some definite moves.”

“All right,” he agreed slowly. “But
I’ll be watching for any cheating, so don't try anything.”

“I'll be watching too. I know
perfectly well that you're not above breaking rules if it means you get to win.
Just because I’m the one getting the orgasms in this situation doesn’t mean I’m
completely at your will.” She was acting like she was explaining her desire to
take control, but she was really just trying to dispel any suspicions. “Plus, I
like to be on top.”

He gave her a dry half-smile. “I know
you do.” He relaxed his body and linked his arms behind his head. “I’ll be a
good boy. So it’s your turn to ‘go to it.’”

Suppressing her glee, she crawled
over until she was straddling his hips once again.

She’d intended to just do the normal
astride-thing while she put her plan in motion, but she was hit with another
idea when she lifted his erection. She watched his face as she gently ran her
fingers up and down the hard length of him.

He was watching her intently through
half-closed lids, and his jaw clenched as she massaged him.

She played with the head a little.
Saw when he winced very slightly. Then she stroked down to cup his balls and
felt a thrill of power when she heard him release a quiet, helpless groan.

After she’d caressed him gently for a
few minutes, she decided he was in a suitably receptive and non-thinking state.

Levering her hips forward, she kept
one hand on his cock and raised the other hand to her lips. She slid one of her
fingers into her mouth, sucking on it hard—knowing that Owen was still watching
her.

His eyes blazed as she slid her
finger in and out of her tightened lips, and she heard him make a low, guttural
sound.

Satisfied that he was paying
attention, she trailed that one finger back down her body—skating along her
neck, making a detour to twirl around one nipple, skimming farther down her
belly, and finally settling between her thighs.

His eyes had followed that one finger,
and Amy felt a hot exhilaration flood her as she fingered her own arousal. Her
flesh was warm and swollen and sticky and a little sore, but it astoundingly
seemed to crave even more friction.

Leaning forward with one hand splayed
on the mattress for support, she sunk that one finger all the way inside her and
pumped it in and out, mimicking the motion she’d generated in her mouth.

Owen groaned again and closed his
eyes. “That’s incredibly hot, baby, but you’re not going to make me come like
that. Even if you get yourself off with your finger.”

Amy wasn’t worried. This had still
been a very encouraging start.

She pulled her finger out of her pussy
and raised it again to her mouth. Saw Owen bite his lip when she slid the
finger back into her mouth and tasted her own arousal—mixed with some lingering
traces of Owen’s.

It wouldn’t have taken very much
self-stimulation for Amy to come again. She was already very close from his
mouth a few minutes earlier.

But her plan wasn’t to have another
orgasm.

Her plan was to fake one.

It could certainly be considered
cheating—although they’d never laid out definite rules, so cheating was purely
subjective—but at this point she didn’t mind stretching a bit to win the game. She
figured if she faked one orgasm, Owen would be satisfied and would let his
control slip on the last one, thinking he had won. Then she could inform him
that she had faked one of the seven and that he hadn’t won after all.

He would whine and complain about
fairness and honesty, but the fact was that he would have lost.

Her brain was slightly befuddled from
her previous orgasms, but all of this made perfect sense to Amy. She couldn’t
be sure of making him come again unless he was lulled into thinking he’d
already achieved the victory.

So fake one orgasm—win the game. She
thought it was a very good plan.

Amy wasn’t a fan of faking orgasms.
In fact, she thought it was a very stupid thing for women to do. Why would they
want to trick men into being satisfied with their shoddy techniques, instead of
encouraging them to find different techniques that actually worked?

But this was a highly unusual
situation, and she thought that womankind might forgive her for faking it this
one time if it meant achieving victory over one very arrogant specimen of
masculinity.

But, as she pulled her finger out of
her mouth—saw Owen’s fiery expression—she realized that she’d have to be careful.

It would really suck to intend to
fake an orgasm and end up coming for real.

She’d been holding Owen’s cock lightly
in one hand, and now she drew it up until it was flush against her arousal.

Eyeing him from under her lashes, she
reached her free hand down to spread open her folds, and then she rubbed her
heated flesh against his hard cock.

“Amy,” Owen choked, fisting his hands
on either side of his body as he stared at her masturbating against his
erection.

“You just lie there,” she told him in
almost intoxicated delight. “That was our deal, remember?” His shaft was
rubbing deliciously against her clit, and her hips started jerking a little as
she started to really respond to the sensations.

The muscles in Owen’s arms and legs
tightened even more, and he arched his back a bit, groaning from the sight of
her and from the stimulation on his cock. “This one counts,” he gritted between
clenched teeth. “My cock will have been in play when you come from this.”

“I suppose,” she agreed, feigning
reluctance. “I’ll give you this one—but you really should be grateful I'm
making it so easy on you.”

"But don't think I'm going to
come from this," Owen added, with a sudden burst of rough sound as she
briefly tightened her grip on his cock.

"Uh huh," Amy agreed, really,
really hoping he would come.

As she felt pressure well up quickly
from the focused friction, she reminded herself that she wasn’t supposed to
come for real.

This one was fake. And faking it was
going to win her this game.

“Yeah,” she moaned throatily, trying
to position herself in the most flattering way but still allow him a good view
of the proceedings. “Yeah, Owen, good.”

It
was
good, but she hammed up
her pleasure a little in preparation for her fake orgasm.

Owen didn’t seem any the wiser. His
whole body was damp and tense now as he watched her rub his cock insistently
against her clit.

Her hips picked up speed—not all of
it part of her strategy—and she reminded herself again that this orgasm wasn’t
for real. “Yeah,” she gasped her head falling forward now and her hair spilling
down over her shoulders. “Yeah, Owen, so good, so hard, so hard.”

She saw that he now had squeezed his
eyes shut and turned his head away from her. She felt a thrill of power that
almost matched the thrill of pleasure and possession that was already washing
over her.

If she got him far enough, maybe she
could come for real—since, if he climaxed again before her seventh orgasm, she
was pretty sure he wouldn’t be up for another go in time.

He definitely seemed to be losing
control. And so was she. She had to work not to squeeze his erection too
tightly, since her body had become demanding and urgent as she worked them both
up toward orgasm.

“Owen,” she groaned, “God, Owen, I
want to come like this.” It wasn’t really a lie, although she mostly said it
for effect. For some reason, she couldn’t remember the kinds of things she
normally said in the heat of passion so everything she said sounded slightly
artificial—making her feel like a bad porn star.