The Naughty Pleasures Bundle (Naughty Pleasures: Volume 1/Naughty Pleasures: Volume 2/Naughty Pleasures: Volume 3) (3 page)

My breath hitches as Brant leans down and whispers in my ear, “Watching you punch the wall was really a turn on.” His tongue swirls lazily along the shell of my ear causing zips of pleasure to skate down my spine. “My big cock was so hard I thought I was going to come in my pants as I watched your breasts rise and fall with each agitated breath you took.” His fingertips still. “I wanted to push you up against the wall spread your gorgeous legs, and fuck your sweet pussy right there in the bar.” His warm breath heats my skin as he bites my neck and licks it with his tongue.

My head falls back, relaxed by the sensual haze created with his whispering words. I gaze up into his face, his eyes heavy with lust. “Why didn’t you?” The words a breathless murmur as I watch the pulse working frantically in his neck.

I twist so I can face him, straddling his legs and placing my bare knees on the outside of his thighs. I squirm, grinding against his rock-hard cock pressing between my legs, full, warm and inviting. I can’t ignore the throbbing heat, begging for his cock.

I swallow hard, meeting his gaze, placing my hands on his chest. “What do you want to do now?”

“Baby.” His chuckle is a husky, sexy sound that vibrates straight to my clit. “It has nothing to do with what I want to do; I’m going to do
you
.”

Considering his erection pulsing at the vee of my legs, I figure he is probably right.

I feel his harsh exhale as my body covered only by thin, damp silk settles over his cock. His seductive grin, an upward turn of his lips, got bolder.

He reaches out grabbing my neck urging my head within inches of his own. His masculine scent envelopes me, wrapping me in a cocoon of desire. His lips cover mine. His lips part, my tongue takes advantage and I hear him groan. Feel him groan. He crushes me to him with his strong arms.

He tastes me, first with his tongue, then with his whole mouth, until not only do I kiss him back, but I give as good and I am getting. I devour him. My mouth against his, my hands plowing through his hair using the soft strands as a handle as I buck my hips urgently trying to ease the hot, heavy ache pooling between my legs.

I buck against him, searching for fulfillment. I feel him grow and swell against my damp heat. I need more. This isn’t working. I sit up, fitting my pussy against him, I groan as I grind into his engorged cock, and reach for the hem of my T-shirt. I pull it off and toss it.

“Sweet heaven,” he mutters. My bare body covered only by a scrap of panties, my rounded breasts thrusts in his face.

He brackets my hips in his palms and looks up at me. His blue eyes glazed with passion stare into mine.

“I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Good.”

His eyes darken even further. Easing the bit of silk down my legs, I catch my breath in anticipation.

Maneuvering out of his current position, he sits upright against the couch, forcing me to move and balance on my knees before him.

His fingers slip from my hips to my thighs. I gasp aloud, my eyelids open wide.

“Don’t move.”

He parts my legs with his hand, sliding his fingers down my slit to tease me with the drag of his finger before dipping his head to taste my warm, waiting flesh.

My knees buckle and my body sways. “Oh, God.”

He somehow switches our positions and lowers me onto the couch. In my wildest fantasy—and since meeting Brant I’d had plenty—I have never dreamed it could be like this.

The skin on my thighs tingles, chafed from where his whiskers had rubbed my flesh. My muscles quiver, seeking more of the exquisite sensations. His mouth works its way up my inner thigh, the rasp of male whiskers has my body jerking upward, nearly taking me off the seat.

“Easy, baby,” he spoke in a husky voice, letting his tongue soothe the chafed surface on my thighs.

“Easy for you to…” my words end abruptly as he lowers his head and his mouth covers my pussy. Shutting my eyes I practically faint as I fall back on the couch. Waves of pleasure course over me each time his agile tongue darts in and out of my pulsing flesh. Need curls in my muscles and my stomach contracts, arching my back, silently reaching higher as he spears his tongue deep. “Brant?”

He meets my gaze, the desire I see in his eyes shakes me to the core. He shocks me again by placing his palm over the juncture of my thighs and rocking gently with the heel of his hand. I moan at his assault, trembling as the incredible pressure inside me continues. With each upward thrust of his hand, with each jerk of my hips, his eyes darken even more. The need to come is all-consuming as pleasure rolls through me. I want to wait, I want him inside me, I want…to scream…and I do, as I tumble over the peak of the most spectacular orgasm I’ve ever had. My body pulses and pounds long after I crumple to the couch, panting heavily.

He stands and scoops me into his arms and takes me to the bedroom, dropping me on the bed before ripping off his clothes.

He joins me on the bed where I welcome him with open arms.

He rolls me onto my back and straddles me, catching my hands above my head with one hand.

As I stare into his dark eyes, desire strikes me again. Hard. His breathing is labored, as if he’s been the one who’d just…I shake my head to dislodge the memory of having his hands on my body, his eyes watch me as I come. But the image stays.

“Brant,” I moan as he plumps both of my breasts together in his big hands and fucks himself between my two soft mounds of flesh. The feel of his thick cock between my breasts, is most erotic. The sight of the fat head of his cock peeking out with each of his thrusts sends sizzling heat to my clit. I must have grown a little frantic because he leans over with his lips nuzzling the side of my neck as I moan. His hand slips to the juncture of my thighs and I know he finds me wet and wanting. I lift my hips as he eases one finger inside me. A soft moan escapes my lips and another finger joins the first.

My head falls back against the pillow. My thighs fall wide open.

He chuckles, a relaxing sound that flows through me.

Leaning forward, I ease one hand out of his grip and grasp his straining cock in my fingers, running my hand down the length of his erection and back again to the broad head. Stroking his flesh until he groans, his teeth clench tight as his rod pulses against my hand. His erection grows larger in my hand with each stroke. A small drop of pre-come coats my palm making me wet, making me want him inside me. My tongue darts out, moistening my dry lips.

His groan echoes in the small room. Sweat beads on his forehead

I smile as he retakes my hand and locks it back with the other one above my head pressing them into the mattress. But he quickly releases my hands to grab for a condom. I immediately pluck the foil packet from his fingers, covering his pulsating cock with one languid stroke, making sure my hands graze and linger longer than strictly necessary, purposefully playful and light. But he raises himself over me, and I realize he isn’t playing anymore.

I feel a desperate moan escape my lips. Lifting my hips at the same time he grabs my hips in his hands and enters me with a smooth, easy thrust. He lets out a groan, a deep, masculine grunt of satisfaction that coils my stomach into an even tighter knot. I strain, lifting my hips as far as I can, meeting his thrusting cock. Wildly meeting him stroke for stroke.

Oh, sweet heaven
.

“Fuck.” Then he surges into me, fucking me long and hard and I lose myself in the moment.

Fully impaled by his strong erection, I begin to move, to grind my hips against him.

As he pumps himself into me, each time harder than the last, my body rises to meet his. The sighs, the moans, the gentle coaxing, that come from my lips. My body feels full and ready to burst, when without warning he slows the pace.

“Don’t stop,” I whimper.

“Don’t worry, babe, I’m not.” He speaks in a deep voice. His hands rove over my breasts, cupping and caressing my already hardened nipples, drawing them into tight distended peaks.

“Oh, Brant.”

He pulls me upward, so I can feel every hard ridge of his cock, stopping so I am poised at the tip of his erection.

Bending his head, he opens his mouth over my breast, clamping his lips over my tender nipple and sucks. He nibbles, tastes and soothes, all the while rocking my swollen body against his rigid cock. He holds my hips still and drives into me to the hilt.

“Oh, God…” I choke on the words just as he lunges into me again.

As he surges inside me, seeming to grow larger and pulse stronger with each thrust, I don’t need long. He’s pushed me close to the edge already and I don’t have far to go. So as he stiffens, his harsh groan fills my ears, I buck as he rides me hard, his final plunge sends my orgasm slamming through me. Brant comes right after, his cock convulsing, his shout of ecstasy as his sweat slicked body falls against mine.

My breathing comes in labored gasps and my body trembles as I open my eyes to find the world hasn’t ended.

“Fuck me…you’re amazing.”

I laugh. “I bet you say that to all the women you sleep with.”

He raises an eyebrow in blatant disbelief. A cocky grin spread across his face.

GHOSTLY ORGASMS

AFTER LIVING IN THE SOUTH MY WHOLE LIFE, ghost stories and haunted houses are nothing new. I have tons of friends who claim they have seen a ghost or felt the presence of one when they’ve toured some of the old mansions scattered about.

There are numerous mansions built in the eighteen hundred’s that are still standing and each one has its own story.

One particular mansion is watched over by a friend of mine. Casey has always found the subject of hauntings exciting while I, on the other hand, have never seen what the attraction is all about.

Is the place haunted, if so, do I really want to know or care?

The mansion Casey manages has been deemed a historical site and she actually lives on the property. She told me that every night she has to walk the grounds at least once to make sure all is well and that no one has lagged behind on the tour. The gates are locked at sunset and she definitely doesn’t want to be woken up by a straggler or someone doing things that they shouldn’t.

One night she said that she found a dozen teenage boys surrounding a headstone with a Ouija board propped on top. Suddenly it flew off with such a force that it crashed into a nearby grave. The sight alone would have caused even the most hardened man to run away like a scared little boy. I think this is why she invited me to spend a few days with her.

What really sold me on the idea of visiting, is Arthur. He is rumored to haunt the house Casey stays in. I find it interesting that she talks about him as if he is real.

“
Sheila, would you mind watching over the old mansion for me for the next couple of days? Remember I told you about the family reunion we are having. It is only a couple hours from here, but there is no way I can make the drive back and forth every night.”

“
Casey, you know how I feel about haunted houses, let alone being alone in one.”

“
I’ll pay you,” Casey bribed. “I know you can always use some extra cash.”

“
Do you honestly believe I will be able to make your rounds after you told me about the Ouija board?”

“
This is a chance of a lifetime,” Casey pleaded. “I guarantee it will be nothing like anything you have ever experienced before and I will pay you double if you don’t thoroughly enjoy it.”

Now what in the world does she mean by that?

Secretly I am intrigued by the prospect of staying in this haunted house by myself, but I don’t want to tell Casey that. It’s more fun to keep her on edge for the moment, so I decide to stay silent as she continues to sell me on the idea.

“
Who knows, Sheila, you might be lucky enough to meet Arthur. He’s not a scary ghost at all, as a matter of fact, he’s just the opposite. I guarantee that once you meet him, you will be offering to pay me to stay here!”

Casey has now officially piqued my curiosity beyond my fear. I’m now fascinated by the prospect of meeting up with a ghost that I will supposedly pay to see again?
Hmm…

Who the fuck is this Arthur, and why the hell would I pay to meet him again?

He must be fabulous. Casey has been offered numerous jobs at other historical sites and even though the pay more and the responsibility less, she has turned every single one of them down with a simple reply,
What would Arthur do without me?

“
Alright Casey, I’ll do you this favor. After all, what are friends for? Besides, I should really get over my fear of haunted houses.”

It’s Friday night and Casey is providing me with all the instructions I’ll need over the next couple of days. So, I guess I’m going to have this haunted house all to myself until three o’clock on Sunday afternoon.

“
Sheila, you’ll never get over your fear if you don’t face it head on. After all, Arthur is up there. You might not be able to see him but you’ll be able to feel his presence and he is a very good ghost. If you meet him you might never want to leave.”

I don’t have a clue why Casey keeps rambling on about Arthur, but if she has no fear of the room or the ghost, why should I? Her eyes light up every time she talks about him. Fear is definitely not part of the equation, so now my curiosity has been heightened.

“
Have a wonderful family reunion, Casey!” I say as she drives away.

“
You have a good time too, Sheila, and don’t forget about the secret room I told you about.”

No matter what I do throughout the night, I keep making my way back to the Master bedroom on the second floor. Casey mentioned that there is a hidden room behind the large oak bookshelf that stands on the far wall. She told me that she actually spends the night in the room sometimes.