Take Me (3 page)

I tugged the material off my shoulders and
let gravity do the rest. My shirt fluttered against my calves
before it puddled on the carpet.

Ian’s breath quickened, but he made no move
to touch me. I reached behind me for the clasp of my bra.

“No. Your skirt first.”

I hesitated for a second. Maybe it was the
baseball metaphor for sex. It didn’t seem right to round third base
before second. I chuckled when I realized how silly I was being.
Bases were irrelevant in this game since we’d hit home long before
third anyway.

“What’s so funny?” Ian looked sincerely
interested, not worried or offended.

I pulled down the zipper on my skirt. “I
think we’re playing America’s greatest pastime backward.” I
released the waistband, and my skirt slithered down my legs. Cool
air tickled my pussy.

He grinned. “Maybe I’m tired of playing by
the rules.”

So I wasn’t the only one stuck in a rut. I
relaxed a bit at the realization.

He stepped closer and reached behind me. With
a soft
snap
, my breasts were free. He drew the straps down
my shoulders and eased back to take in the effect.

His gaze swept down the length of my body,
and I shivered at the desire he emanated.

“Turn around,” he murmured. Once again, I
paused. I wanted, no, I
needed
him as naked as I was. My
lips parted, and he laid his index finger across them. “Trust
me.”

I pivoted and waited. So many things ran
through my mind. Would he kiss my neck? Would he ever touch my
breasts? Would he simply unzip his trousers and take me from
behind?

He did none of those things. Carefully, oh,
so carefully, he removed the pins that held my French twist in
place. My hair tumbled to my shoulders, and he ran his fingers
through my locks. “I’ve been wanting to do that from the first
moment I saw you,” he whispered in my ear.

I don’t know what he did with my pins, but
his hands cupped my swollen breasts. He pressed me against his hard
chest. I reveled in his touch as he caressed the delicate skin and
plucked my erect nipples.

I was already wet from our earlier play, but
there seemed to be a live electrical wire connecting his hands to
my pussy. Every pinch and roll of his fingers shot raw sensation
through that line. The press of his erection against my ass added
to the demands of my body.

“Please,” I whispered. “I need you.”

“You need me to do what, Lacy?” He drew out
my name, making it sound sensual. Wanton. Which was exactly how I
felt. His right hand left my breast and slid down my belly before
teasing my damp curls.

“I need you inside me.”

His chuckle vibrated against my temple.
“That’s not what you really want to say, is it? Tell me what you
want me to do to you.”

“I-I—” I couldn’t think anymore. His fingers
stroked my slit and toyed with my clit.

“Tell me.” His voice was hoarse with his own
desire. His hard cock pressed against my crevice, straining against
the cloth that imprisoned it. “Tell me or I stop.” To prove his
point, he halted the delicious torture of my pussy.

“I need you to fuck me.” My voice was so soft
it barely qualified as a whisper.

“Say it like you mean it.”

I whirled to face him. “I want you to fuck
me. Fuck me so hard that I forget my name.”

Lust shone in his eyes, raw and
unadulterated. He grabbed the back of my neck and yanked me to him.
His kiss was brutal, dominating, and I lost myself in it.

He shed his suit coat, and I clawed at the
buttons of his dress shirt, desperate to get the interfering
material out of the way. Yet, somehow, we managed never to stop
kissing as we made our way to the bed.

His clothing flew in all directions. His cock
twitched against my stomach, eager, hungry.

Reluctantly, I tore my mouth from his.
“Condom.”

His fingers dug into my shoulders. For a
brief instant, I thought he’d disregard my warning. That he’d pin
me down and fuck me without protection. But in the end, common
sense won. He released me and stalked back to his suit coat lying
on the floor near the bedroom door.

For the first time, I got a good look at him.
His ass was as tight and fine as his trousers had hinted. His broad
shoulders tapered into the long, lean muscle of a runner or a
swimmer. He definitely hadn’t let himself develop a pudge like so
many men in our age range.

When he returned, he tossed all of the
condoms but one on the nightstand.

He shoved the single foil package into my
hand. “On your knees.”

If any other man in my life had said those
words, I would have told him where to go and what he could do with
himself when he got there. But the way Ian said the words was sexy,
compelling, and made me feel oh-so-wicked.

I knelt before him, his cock level with my
mouth and tempting. Very tempting. It was dangerous taking a
complete stranger, naked, between my lips. Even though I’d been the
one to remind him about protection, I found I didn’t care at this
point. I wanted to taste him so bad I couldn’t stop myself.

My tongue swiped the drop of pre-come and
sucked on the tip. He tasted of seawater. Tampa’s white sand
beaches. Clean sunshine despite the dimness of the hotel suite in
the middle of a thunderstorm at night.

I inhaled his scent as I ran my tongue down
the sensitive underside of his cock. The freshness of the ocean
filled my head. I lavished the same attention on him that he had on
my pussy in the cab.

His fingers threaded through my hair. His
firm grip didn’t hurt, nor did he try to guide my motions. It was
almost as if holding me was the only way for him to stay upright
while I molded my lips down his shaft to the root.

“Lacy.” He drew out my name into a low
moan.

I ignored him. Instead, I sucked and licked.
His sac pulled tight against his body. He was so damn close, and I
wanted to swallow all of him.

“Lacy.” This time he did yank on my hair.

A whimper escaped from me as his cock escaped
from my lips. From the dresser mirror behind him, I could see he
had the length of my locks wrapped around one fist.

“Condom,” he ordered.

His commands, his dominating attitude,
shouldn’t be turning me on. Yet, my nipples were so tight they
hurt. My own juices trickled down my inner thighs. I ripped the
packet open and rolled the latex over his cock.

“Up.” A slight tug on my scalp brought me to
my feet. Ian spun me around and pushed me face-first onto the
mattress, my ass in the air. I tried to rise, but with his hold on
my hair, I was pinned unless I wanted to lose a large hank.

Part of me thought I should have fought him,
but I didn’t want to. What I wanted was to be impaled with that
magnificent cock.

Which is exactly what he did. No ease. No
delay. He rammed into my pussy. Hard. Deep. I was so wet though, it
was a relief. He yanked on my hair to keep me in position. And
everything felt so damn marvelous I cried out.

The next stroke of his cock was more gentle
though he retained a firm grip on my tresses. He must have thought
he’d been too rough with me.

“No. Harder. Please fuck me harder.” The
words were out of my mouth before I consciously thought them. Here
was a man who knew what he wanted. And to my shock, I wanted the
same thing. I wanted him to use me, use my body, until neither of
us could stand up straight.

He laughed, a deliciously wicked rumble, but
he obliged, pumping into my pussy like everything in the world
depended on him filling me. In his roughness, I could feel the
gathering threads of my impending orgasm.

No, it was more than that. I relished Ian
treating me like his personal slut. Touching me while we were in
places where we might be caught. The thrill of doing forbidden
things with a stranger.

Except maybe he wasn’t such a stranger. He
knew what I needed more than any other lover. More than I did
myself.

My knees and arms shook. Then every cell
exploded. Someone screamed, an alien howl I’d never heard before.
It took a second to realize the sound came from my own throat.

I barely heard his growl, but the throb of
his cock was unmistakable. Only the harsh sound of our breathing
filled the room.

Slowly, so very slowly, he pulled out of me.
“Climb in bed. I’ll be right back.” Intellectually, I knew he
needed to dispose of the condom, but I missed the heat of him.

Already, my thigh muscles were tight and my
biceps ached.
I’m really going to be paying for this in the
morning.

I’d barely settled under the sheet when Ian
returned. He strode out to the sitting room and turned off the
light. Then his warm, hard muscles curled around me.

I’d always found it difficult to sleep
touching another person. Something about Ian made cuddling
comfortable. Even though this was supposed to be a fling, I found
myself feeling very protected.

* * *

“Lacy?” The husky male voice cut through
layers of sleep.

It took me a minute to remember where I was.
Atlanta. Hotel. Sexy man in my bed. “Yeah.”

“I need you. Spread your legs for me.” Even
through my drowsiness, my pussy dampened at the seductive request.
Or maybe it was the hand stroking my slit.

I managed to toss the sheet off my body and
obey his request. I couldn’t say no.

A dark shadow knelt between my parted thighs.
The tip of his erection rubbed along my pussy. “God, you are so hot
and wet. I can’t stop myself.”

“Who said I wanted you to?” I murmured.

He entered me. Not the rough taking of
before, but an easy rhythm designed to make the event last as long
as possible.

I wrapped my legs around his waist before I
drew him closer for a long, lingering kiss. When we parted, I
whispered, “Why are you taking this so slow?”

His mouth trailed along my jaw line before he
nibbled on my ear. “I don’t think I can get enough of you. I want
to be inside you as long as possible.”

In my half-asleep state, I didn’t feel up to
arguing. Instead, I squeezed my internal muscles in not-so-subtle
encouragement.

“Stop that,” he said.

“Make me.”

Ian grabbed my wrists and pinned them above
my head. Then, I felt him slide out of me.

“Jerk,” I muttered.

“I don’t reward naughty little sluts.” He
rubbed his damp cock against my abdomen.

I opened my mouth to argue, but I’d started
the name-calling. Time for a different tactic. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry, what?”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” I purred. “Please, let me
make it up to you.”

“How?” A mixture of suspicion and amusement
flavored his voice.

“Let me suck your dick. Please.” I licked my
lips. One of his hands lowered to trace the wetness, but the other
kept a firm lock on my wrists. My tongue darted out and tasted his
thumb.

The hiss of air between his teeth only
encouraged me. I wrapped my lips around the digit and sucked in
earnest.

“Damn you,” he whispered. He shifted. A sharp
bite on my nipple forced my mouth open, and I cried out.

His chest vibrated against my skin as he
muffled his laughter. I wanted to be angry or, at the very least,
annoyed, but it was impossible to concentrate. Not with the way his
tongue swirled around my areola before he drew the hard point
between his lips. He lavished my breast until my back arched.

He turned his attention to my other
breast.

There was something I wanted to do to him,
but I couldn’t remember what it was in the onslaught of sensation.
His mouth captured mine again, and his cock invaded me once
more.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and
stroked his incredible ass with my heels. He ended the kiss and
watched me as he began his slow rhythm all over again.

“You’re not going to let me suck you,” I
whispered.

“Next time.” His languid pace was
excruciating.

“Ian, please,” I begged. “I really need you
to fuck me.”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

God, he was so damn long. It took forever to
complete a stroke. He thrust in again, and I squeezed.

It became a war of patience despite the fact
he securely pinned me beneath his hands and body. The languorous
slide of his erection. My internal muscles massaging him. Both of
us trying so damn hard not to come, to prove who was in
control.

He tried to ignore what I was doing to his
cock, but I could feel the tautness in his muscles, the slight
shiver as he fought his own internal war. My own body tried to
betray my will as well. The warning contractions in my pussy. Each
raspy breath I took.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore,
he gave up and fucked me as hard and as fast as he had earlier
until we both exploded.

Once again, I screamed as my body shook with
the force of the orgasm. Part of me wondered where the hell that
came from. I never did that before. But then, no one ever made me
feel this way either.

Ian collapsed on top of me, his weight
comfortable and comforting. He was still on top and inside me when
I drifted back to my dreams.

Despite very little sleep, I awoke energized
when the alarm clock went off at five a.m. I reached out and
slapped the button to silence the radio station’s morning crew.
Pleasant soreness taunted me about last night’s activities. A smile
curved my mouth. It had been a long time since I’d felt this
good.

Ian’s arms still held me cocooned against his
chest. I started to slide away only for his grip to tighten.

“Give me five more minutes.” His sleepy voice
was husky, and sexy, and if I didn’t have so much riding on my
morning interview, I would’ve given in and let him have his way
with me.

I laughed. “Why don’t you join me in the
shower instead?”