Unearthed Treasure (5 page)

David changed gears as they gathered speed, and as he worked the shift, his hand grazed her upper thigh. Chelsea barely caught herself before she gasped. Lust, hot and potent, tingled up her thigh and hummed over her clit. She shifted her legs restlessly while staring out of the windscreen.

When David turned the corner—shifting down a gear—and grazed her again, she knew it wasn’t accidental.

“You’re playing with fire,” she warned him.

“You should know by now, the danger is all a part of the thrill for me.”

“You have a point.” Chelsea chuckled. “But I’m not sure if I can be casual with you. I…trust you too much for that.”

David turned his head, caught her eyes with his steady, dark gaze.

“The way I feel about you is anything but casual.”

“Well then”—she settled back into her seat—“I can’t argue with that.”

Having stated her feelings as clearly as she dared for now, Chelsea was willing to leave it. Despite the fact that she’d confessed to loving him, heartfelt statements and the usual female over-analysing of every word, expression and gesture weren’t her usual style.

One thing she’d learnt from this work was that she could plot, plan and strategise until kingdom come, but that life—or the universe, whatever—had a tendency to do what it would. Some things you simply couldn’t control. Relationships—whether they were sexual liaisons, flings or deeper, more emotional connections—seemed to always fall into that category, she’d found.

From the moment she’d truly begun to trust David she’d slowly found herself falling deeper and deeper in love with him. There was no one she relied on more, or wanted to be closer to. Pushing him into discussing his feelings, or his intentions, or where he saw the two of them moving on to from here would solve nothing—indeed it usually made things far more complicated than they really needed to be.

He’d confessed that this wasn’t casual for him, not a quick fling or a ’before we go on the mission’ fuck from anyone willing.

For now, that was enough for her.

David pressed the accelerator and zipped through an orange light. Chelsea threw a glance in his direction, struggling to stifle the grin that wanted to break across her face. She reached a hand over and rested it on his upper thigh, cupping his lithe muscle through the warmth of his black denim jeans.

It looked like she wasn’t the only one eager to discover the sensual joys that waited around the corner for them both, considering the enormous, thick shaft pressing along the line of his trousers.

Chelsea gave in and grinned. David turned a corner a little too fast, the wheels screeching on the road. He cast her a speaking look and shook his head.

Neither of them said a word. It wasn’t really necessary.

* * * *

“Would you like a—umph”—Chelsea dropped her keys and satchel to the floor as David captured her face in his palms, kicked the door closed behind him and kissed her wildly. Her mind blanked, offers of tea, coffee and biscuits evaporating from the sheer heat of their passion as it exploded between them.

With quick movements she shed her coat and scarf, letting them fall to the floor. Throughout this they left their lips locked together, searching with their tongues for the delicious nectar of one another’s mouth. Chelsea lifted one foot at a time to unzip and remove her boots. David kicked off his shoes then he traced his hand all over her body.

“So sweet,” he muttered as he lifted his head to trail hot, wet kisses down her neck. He worked his fingers nimbly, undoing her shirt and pulling it down her shoulders, snagging it purposely to restrain her arms for one heady, delicious minute.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, more turned on than she could have previously believed possible. Chelsea had never played with being restrained. She naturally liked being in control—both of herself and any situation she found herself in.

The idea of being completely at David’s mercy, of him being able to do anything to her, with her…the thought blew her mind. She trusted him completely. It suddenly shone enticingly in front of her, the idea that one day they could explore that dark alley together—a first for her.

She cracked her eyes open—the weight of her lust having closed them without her being conscious of it—and stared at him.

“I never realised being bound could be so…exciting,” she panted.

“Oh darling,” he groaned, his tone sweet and thick with his own evident arousal. “The things I can show you, the doors we can open for one another. I feel drunk just at the thought.”

Chelsea rolled her shoulders, itching to reach her hands out and trace every inch of his body. Part of her snarled, wanting to go into that darker, erotic area. But for their first time together she craved being equal with him, keeping pace with him inch for inch, lick for lick.

David tugged her shirt down, the cuffs catching on her wrists until he pulled once more. When she was released, a freedom surged through her. It took them mere seconds to strip one another completely naked. Craving him like a drug, Chelsea wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing their bodies together. She leaned into him, lifted one leg to wrap around his thigh so she could tilt her pelvis up into his erect cock.

Her wet pussy rode over the soft, warm skin of his shaft. Friction sent small frissons of energy jolting through her body, making her feel as if tiny electric shocks danced over her skin. She could almost taste the growing urgency like a fog in the room. Moving her hands around to cup his arse, she squeezed the muscles and massaged them, tracing her fingers in a random pattern up the curve of his glutes to the hollow of his back. An indentation where his spine ended tempted her to trace farther up the long length of his spine.

David inserted one thick leg between her legs, and she rode him in earnest. The change in angle had her clit pressed against his skin, the thin, short hairs of his upper thigh stimulating her. Groaning, distracted, she pressed her pelvis down, grinding her nub against his flesh.

“I can feel your wetness and heat,” he moaned.

“I need you,” she panted, her head spinning—probably owing to lack of oxygen. Who could breathe when one’s body was focused completely on feeling such pleasure?

David nudged her back. He guided her body with his hands on her hips until she moved farther into the main living area and out of the entrance way. Thick carpet covered the floor. A few comfortable chairs, a short coffee table and two couches formed an L shape. David flicked his eyes around the room, even in the heat of passion surveying the area like the pro she knew him to be.

He knelt, tugging her down with him. With a gentle push he urged her onto her back. The carpet felt soft and deep. She loved walking around barefoot and had spent a bloody fortune on the most decadent, luxurious and comfortable blend she could find. Chelsea had always thought the investment a good one—now she resolved never to doubt that judgement again. It was hands down the best money she’d ever spent.

“Remember the second meeting we ever had with the crew? That tiny leather skirt you wore? With the garter belt and tiny red G-string?”

Chelsea choked, caught somewhere between embarrassment and outrage.

“How the hell did you know about the red G-string?”

“We still didn’t trust Phillipe, Thaddeus or Luke as far as we could throw them—actually, I still don’t—but back then we had agreed to always cover as much of the room between the two of us. I sat opposite you in that meeting, so between us we could have overpowered the other men had it come to that.”

“Okay,” she replied, her sex-addled brain still not seeing where he was going with this. “I remember. What about it?”

“Whenever you got annoyed and tried to swallow it, forcing yourself to not snap their heads off, you uncrossed then re-crossed your legs,” he continued with patience, peppering kisses along the column of her throat, leaving a wet trail that started to curve across her breast. “None of the others were at the correct angle to see more than these luscious, supple thighs of yours. I, however, was privy to tantalising glimpses of that thong and the treasure of your pussy. I’ve wanted to see it, taste it, explore it ever since that night.”

“Oh,” she gasped, unable to articulate further as David sucked one hard nipple into his hot mouth. Drawing on it, he created a spark of sensation that raced from her nub, down her breast and ran through her belly finishing at a tingle in her clit.

Her back arched up from the floor. The action was driven by need and not conscious thought. She reached her hands out to thread through David’s hair, pleased to find it every bit as silky and soft as it appeared. It fell like gossamer over her skin as she urged him lower.

He didn’t need her to guide him at all. Kissing her over and over, he laved her skin with his tongue. The damp spots cooled in the air and added to the growing knot of pleasure lodged deep in her belly. Taking his time, he tasted her at his leisure—mumbling and groaning his appreciation as he made his way over her flat belly, licking and kissing her lower and lower as he made a beeline to her pussy.

When he thrust his tongue into the dent of her belly button, Chelsea moaned as electric pleasure zinged through her. She’d never realised so much of her body was connected—usually sex was much faster and less emotional. David seemed to enjoy her reaction to this and he again fucked her navel with his tongue. Chelsea lifted her body up, twining her fingers again in the strands of his hair to draw him closer.

“Oh, that’s…odd, but so fucking good, damn…” Not making sense even to her own ears, Chelsea had no idea how David was supposed to understand her. He seemed caught up in the same insanity, however, for he rumbled a husky laugh, moving his hands lower to stroke at the outer lips of her labia.

“Fuck you’re so wet, so ready for me. Tell me this is what you want, what you need, darling.”

“Oh yes, please, please. I’m more than ready, David. Please.”

“Wonderful,” he panted and moved his head lower. Chelsea lifted her head to watch him. One powerful hand rested on her upper thigh, urging her to open for him. She damn well should have known where this was leading, but still she’d been expecting him to fuck her—not scoot down farther, lifting his head so he could watch her being captured, entranced as he ate her.

Dark, black eyes remained steady on her as he delicately, purposefully flicked his tongue out and took a long, slow swipe along the slit of her pussy. Slick juices gleamed over his lips and he swallowed her hungrily. He licked his mouth as if she were a delicacy and quickly returned for seconds.

She widened her eyes, caught between wanting to close them to savour the sensations or capture this moment and burn it on her brain forever. Her mouth fell open, but no sound emerged. Chelsea half thought her brain had imploded, or fried. Whatever had happened, rational thought had fled for the hills.

In some ways she didn’t think she’d ever be able to think, or act the same ever again. David was like some catalyst, changing and mutating who and what she was.

They stared at each other as he lapped at her with his tongue, over and over again. He drank from her, clearly enjoying every taste he received. Soon his lips and chin shone wetly, but still he continued. Her breaths came so much faster now, harsher as her lungs struggled to keep up with the rampant thumping of her heart.

The act itself of him eating her out was intensely personal and highly erotic, but watching him and the way his eyes never wavered from her made the whole experience even more stimulating. The thought crossed her mind that he was binding them together, with ropes far stronger than anything physical. By sharing such an insanely intimate act, by having even just this one piece of mutual history, it was something that could never be taken away, never denied, or forgotten, something that even a hundred years from now she’d recall vividly. His every action was branded upon her soul—and his.

Nothing and no one could take this from either of them.

Then he inserted three fingers deep into her pussy. His thick digits stretched her, filled her as much as a regular-sized cock would. Her body accommodated him, but she felt that faint, full burn of possession. Chelsea arched her spine, her head falling gently down. Her curls brushed down her back and stimulated her already over-sensitised flesh.

She cried out, a pleasure-filled sound that could not possibly be mistaken for anything else.

“That’s it,” David crooned to her. “Scream for me. Cry out loud as you can. I want it all, Chelsea. I want you to lose control, to give everything to me. Everything.”

Her inherent stubbornness kicked in. She chuckled, her teasing nature rising to meet his masculine challenge.

“Make me, David,” she purred. She lifted her head and caught his gaze again. She could feel the flush of desire on her cheeks and her chest. With her legs splayed wantonly open and his digits inside her pussy she knew the scene had to look erotic. It certainly stimulated her to see him between her legs, his face wet with her juices, his eyes practically black with lust and need.

“If you give me everything I’ll return that and more to you,” she promised him. “But as always, this is a meeting of equals. I want everything from you too, darling.”

He thrust his fingers deeply inside her, curved up to caress over her G-spot. At her words he fucked her harder, faster. Her skin tingled. She felt faintly surprised she didn’t shake with the growing arousal as it built steadily within her.

“I’ll give you everything,” he vowed. The deepness of his tone, the clear meaning was a weight behind every word. All too soon she could feel the climax build. Reaching down to grasp David’s shoulders, she urged him up. He lifted himself onto one elbow and crawled up her body, his hand remaining lodged deep inside her.

Digging her nails lightly into the skin of his collarbone, she then tilted her face down so she could hungrily kiss him. She tasted faint, salty muskiness on his lips—her own essence. Far from being repulsed, she enjoyed the way it mingled with his own taste, inside his mouth. Flicking her tongue out, she lapped at him. He seemed faintly surprised, but far from upset. He rumbled a happy sound, somewhere between a murmur and low groan.