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  Even through my hazy vision, with eyes begging to close, I can’t do anything other than watch him. With his eyes closed, full focus on me and mild, muffled groans, I’m even more aroused. There’s nothing sexier than knowing a man enjoys eating your pussy.

  When he lowers the base of my spine back onto the table, kisses work up my stomach. At my navel slick swirls linger in the dip, behind my bar. A finger pushes into me, sliding back and forth. Soon after, that one becomes two. As the kisses resume their journey up, Dane looks predatory in his controlled, stealth-like movement, his loose locks hanging over his shoulders. Knowing that his hair is always bound, seeing him like this feels almost as intimate as it was having his face buried in my folds.

  I let my head fall back as his fingers continue to caress my walls. Our gazes become level. With the placement of his forearm on the table to the right of my head, his body weight over me is slight. “What are you doing to me?” I ask. “This feels like torture.” The sweetest, of course. His breath mingles with my lips when he laughs lightly. That responding chuckle is a little triumphant. “I don’t think I like you anymore, Dane,” I tease.

  “I’d tell you sorry, but I’m not. I’ve never wanted to fuck as much as I do right now, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna rush this.” His smile lingers, but his gaze is once again serious. His thumb over my clit, he circles in time with the press of his fingers. “I hope you don’t expect to sleep anytime soon.”

  With a caress that becomes as determined as his just did, it’s impossible to keep my eyes open. Grasping at anything I can get hold of, I catch the tense shoulder of the arm working me and his side. As I vocalize my pleasure, Dane slips his tongue into my mouth, the taste of me flavoring him. I come with him consuming my moans.

  Moving his hand from my folds, Dane raises his wet fingers to my nipple and circles it, leaving the slick evidence of my climax. His tongue follows, licking away my juices. His name escapes me on a whisper as he sucks my hard peak. Greater suction creates that internal trail, even more heightened than the last time, making my pussy throb with a strength that could easily have me believe myself capable of coming from this alone. But it’s not enough. I don’t just want to come – I need him inside me.

  “Dane?” I say, raising my voice enough to avoid it sounding like an aroused response to all the wonderful attention he’s unleashing on my body. His glorious face comes level with mine. “Fuck me now, please. You can do whatever you want to me after that.”

  The subtle tilt to one side of his mouth snatches my notice. “When you put it like that.” He moves and lifts me into the cradle of his arms, and carries me through to the bedroom.

  The room becomes dark when the door closes, shutting out the light from the living room. It’s warm in here and it smells of Dane, the non-artificial scent belonging to him. Unaware of my alien surroundings, I feel soft, cotton beneath me. A clicking sound. The light on the bedside table radiates an orange glow. I’m on a king-size bed with a dark gray cover under me. Dane kneels between my thighs and reaches over, pulling open the top drawer of his bedside table to retrieve protection.

  I’m not sure if I should be as impressed as I am, but watching the fluid and confident way Dane rolls on the condom is quite notable, even a turn on. That alone could qualify as foreplay.

  He settles between my legs, fitting like he belongs there. I inhale sharply at the point of his controlled entry and the burst of intense sensations. What’s more astounding is that he trembles. “Holy fuck,” he says under his breath when the tip of his dick is surrounded by me. “Damn, Brooklyn, that’s some hold you’ve got on me.”

  Oh my goodness, the low lengthy grown from deep in Dane’s throat as my slick and over willing passage welcomes his impressive girth, coupled with the unbelievable feeling of his shaft filling me, makes me moan in a way that doesn’t even sound familiar to me. I embrace him tightly as our bodies align. With a slow raise of only his hips, he draws back until his dick is barely in contact with me. I get to experience it all again, the stretching of my entry as he presses into me, as purposeful and delayed as the first time, my walls enveloping him. He groans and I moan. I push my head back into the pillow, inhaling. His tongue glides up the side of my neck and his fingers slip into my hair at the sides, closing into fists with a tightness that tells me I’m not the only one overcome right now.

  Dane’s thrusts become more powerful, even with obvious deliberation. I’m far from innocent, I’ve more than indulged in carnal enjoyment, yet everything feels heightened, like I’m experiencing sex for the first time. I’d resent feeling so much, feeling so powerless to him, if it wasn’t so obvious that we’re equally caught in a tightly spun web of intense satisfaction and desperate desire.

  With absolute ease, as though I’m weightless, Dane shifts me over on to all fours. His hands to my hips, demanding and dominant, he drives into me at the same time he pulls me back to meet him. The sensation is shocking and overwhelming, leaving me stunned and gasping. His onslaught from behind is merciless, the pleasure spreading beyond that one point of contact; sharp, tiny currents along my arms to my fingers and down my legs to my toes.

  I am consumed, absorbed, taken over – everything that makes me physically his right now.

  “You’re fucking beautiful,” he tells me, his coarse voice absolute. “I don’t know whether to eat you again or stay buried in you. If I could, I’d do both at the same time.”

  If I could speak, I’d respond.

  Altering his position behind me, he brings me upright as he sits back on his heels. I’m now seated on his lap, my back to his front, my thighs split wide. He grinds upwards. I rock my hips grinding down on him. Taking my left hand in his, Dane links our fingers and moves our hands between my legs. Together we caress my clit, strokes perfectly matched with his thrusts. “Have you made yourself come thinking about me, Brooklyn?”

  The aroused whisper in my ear makes me giggle, even with the building pressure in my pussy. I’m not embarrassed, the question was just unexpected. “My sexy secrets stay my sexy secrets,” I say, trying for control of my voice, though I fail as a whimper slips out at the end.

  It’s crazy that his hushed, “Okay,” adds further stimulation. Dane’s other arm tightens around my waist, restricting my movement, and somehow he makes me feel him more. “I’ve made myself come thinking about you,” he rasps, “right after I text you this morning.”

  No giggle this time, I can only moan in response to the combination of that voice, those words, the cock deep inside me, and our fingers stroking me. I go over in a rush of peaking sensations.

  “I still wanna know,” he whispers, before shifting me forward, on to all fours again.

  With my forehead pressed to the mattress, one hand buried in my hair and the other at my hip, I’m held in place. He takes me hard and fast. Shock goes into battle with pleasure, as I realize I’m about to come again. Right now. My mind is telling me it’s too soon. My body is telling me go forth. Fuck, I have no choice. I explode around him, from inside out, burying my face in the cover to silence my scream, whilst clawing the luxurious cotton bedding.

  Dane becomes still, but I can just pick up the fading spasms in his shaft. Breathing heavy, hot and sticky, neither of us move. I don’t think I can. I feel like I’ve had the life fucked out of me. I don’t even want to speak.

  Slowly, Dane withdraws. The loss is instant, and if I had the strength I’d protest his departure. His hips press against my backside and he remains there. I find the energy to smile, happy with the physical re-connection.

  “Yes or no, Brooklyn?” How did I know he’d ask that eventually?

  I turn my head to the side where I can breathe better. “Yes.”

  “When?” The intrigue in his voice tells me he wasn’t expecting that answer.

  “After our first phone conversation.”

  He laughs silently as he moves from behind me, and goes into the adjoining bathroom. I scoot up to the top of the bed and lay on my side.
Yawning, silent and beyond content, I relax my limbs and close my eyes.

  Dane returns and frames my body with his, spooning with me. As we mingle with the night, the seconds, the minutes, the hours passing by, we talk, we stroke, we tease, we play, and we fuck. He makes me come again and again and … Wow!

  Twenty: Brooklyn

  When I arrive at my apartment, and walk through the front door, Kayla’s coming out of the bathroom. “Walk of shame!” she shouts, pointing at me. I look down at my clothes and then back at her, grinning. “She banged Dane,” Kayla says, giggling.

  “Tell the neighbors, why don’t you?” I joke.

  Leona walks out of the living room and stands leaning against the doorjamb, her arms folded across her tummy. “I can smell the sex all over you,” she says, her gaze slowly inspecting me.

  I know she can’t, not from there. “Funny. Very funny,” I reply before switching to Kayla. “Are you done in there?”

  “Hmm, so you want to rid yourself of the evidence do you, missy?”

  “Not really, I’d gladly stay smelling like this all day,” I tell her as I slip into the bathroom.

  Just as I start to close the door, Kayla blocks it with her foot.

  “Details over breakfast. We’re going to Mary’s, so you’ve got twenty minutes.”

  By the time I shower and throw on some fitness shorts and a T-shirt, Kayla and Leona are back. I walk into the kitchen in the middle of a Kayla-Leona nationality switch.

  “That bloke is such a knob,” Kayla says, her British accent perfect, but too posh for a line like that.

  “I know, right? Freaking ass-hat,” Leona says, and I can’t fault her. We didn’t even know a term like “ass-hat” existed until a member of our dance family said it.

  I chuckle at them as I sit down. “You two are silly arses. I love you both.” I reach for my mushroom omelet and toast.

  “Fuck that shit,” Leona says, in her own accent. “Details, hoe!”

  We eat and I tell them everything. Absolutely everything. It’s what Leona did, and it’s what Kayla will be doing because she had plans last night. I know that hoe! has been up to no good.

  “Whisky, Tango, Foxtrot,” Leona says.

  “What the fuck, indeed,” I respond. “I have no idea where any of this is going. I have no expectations; I’m taking it one day at a time.”

  “As long as you’re happy, babe, that’s all that matters,” Leona says.

  Kayla snickers. “It’s obviously done you the world of good. You’ve barely slept, and you sure don’t look like shit.”

  I sip my coffee. “I’m sore, though. Good thing we don’t have a show tonight. Is there such a thing as a hangover from sex? I’m proper hanging, if that’s the case.”

  Kayla starts singing Love Hangover beautifully to herself. Leona joins in, and so do I.

  We finish our sing-song. Leona and I stare at Kayla. “And now for the Chase Dean goss,” I demand.

  “That geeza is officially all mine,” she says, sounding like someone out of a Guy Ritchie movie.

  “Flipping heck! Are relationships catching in the Macintosh-Dixon-Scott household?” I say, grinning and beyond happy.

  After a day inclusive of class, a client, a massage to loosen out some nasty knots in my back, and a nap to revitalize, I call my mum. Following a good chat and an update, not the detailed version I gave Leona and Kayla, I shower and put on some white skinny jeans and a blush satin camisole with lace trim across the bust line. With my hair down, a little eyeliner, mascara, and some lip gloss to finish I’m ready to go.

  When I step out of the lift, Dane is standing at his open door, beyond sexy in a dark green T-shirt embossed with a Japanese design and dark jeans. He hugs me and squeezes me nicely just before letting go. That’s followed up with a kiss on the lips. I really like this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’ve got going on.

  After I take off my boots and socks, Dane watches as I appreciate the feel of his luscious, thick carpet under my bare soles. He smiles, amused. I can smell caramelized onion, tomato and spices and that excites my taste buds. There’s another bud Dane’s already exciting as well, he’s too yummy. To hell with feeling sore, who cares?

  In the kitchen, I’m sitting at the breakfast bar with a glass of red wine beside me. My offer to help with the food was declined, which means I get to watch Dane do his thing. I adore him in motion.

  He walks over to me with a plate of pineapple chunks, their freshness evident by the tempting, sweet smell. The plate set next to my glass, Dane stands in front of me, grips my thighs just above my knees, opens my legs, and steps in between them. He’s nice and close, and the last thing I want right now is food. I’d gladly eat all this other stuff after I eat him, though.

  I hook my thumbs into the loops on the waistband of his jeans as he picks up a juicy piece of the fruit. Slowly, he puts it in my mouth, at the same time he watches my acceptance. He’s leisurely stroking my thigh with his other hand. “It’s gorgeous,” I say at the sudden tangy burst of flavor.

  His gaze travels down to my crotch, a smirk making an appearance. “I can think of something else that tastes better.” He bites a piece of pineapple and brings his attention back to my mouth as he feeds me the rest. Again, he takes a bite from another and offers me the remainder under his watching eyes.

  When he places the tip of his thumb between my lips, I suck the juice from it. Switching to his forefinger, I suck again. Middle finger. We linger. So, so slowly, he pulls out. He moves closer, this time I receive his tangy-flavored tongue, swirling strokes of sweetness. The depth of our kiss, the blatant desire, suggests our hunger at the moment bares no association with food. But, still, he breaks the connection, both of us breathless, and turns away. No man should be this arousing.

  We sit at the dining table, positioned at the back of the living room. Low music plays in the background. Dane’s seated me at the head of the table and he’s on the next chair along from me. The food is to die for, the company even better.

  After our meal, Dane feeds me more pineapple. I’m sure it tastes better from his fingers. I feed him as well. He’s making me feel like his queen, I’ll gladly treat him like my king in return.

  “Out of curiosity,” I say lightly, so he won’t think I’m being cheeky or over intrusive, “why would a man who usually likes to be single have such a fabulous dining table that seats six?”

  He’s so chilled with a lazy smile, but his posture remains perfect even though his arms are folded atop the table. “This is what happens when your sister has keys to your place. Saff seemed to think I needed one. I didn’t agree – a coffee table and a breakfast bar were more than enough for me – but that didn’t matter, I still came home one day to find it here. This is the first time I’ve used it in the four years I’ve had it.”

  “Is that how long you’ve lived here?”

  “It is. Before that, Gerard and I were crazy enough to share an apartment.”

  I chuckle, but I’m not saying anything to that. God only knows what they got up to. I stop myself from beaming as it suddenly occurs to me that I’m the first woman to eat at this table with him.

  Soon after, I sit on the sofa. It’s dark outside, the blinds are closed and the one lamp in the corner bathes the room in a low, orange glow.

  Dane comes in from the kitchen and pushes the coffee table back slightly. Facing me, he kneels down on the floor and removes his T-shirt, revealing that fabulous, muscular, tattooed torso. Our mutual focus on his hand, he reaches for the button of my jeans and opens it. My white lace underwear peeps through with the lowering of my zip. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he pulls my jeans down past my backside and I lift my hips to assist. They slide farther down, over my thighs, my knees, to my ankles, and off. He lays them to one side. Next he peels down my knickers and takes them off.

  With his hands to my back, he brings me forward until I’m seated at the edge of the sofa. Remaining on his knees, between my thighs, he takes off my camisole and
bra. He lightly brushes my left nipple with the back of his fingers, it starts to tighten. “I’ve been thinking about having your pussy tight around me all day,” he says, softly, eyes focused on his slowly caressing fingers.

  Leaning forward, I press my lips to his. As he accepts the twirls of my tongue and responds with strokes of his own, I pick up a tearing sound and the movement of his hands between us as he puts a condom on.

  His jeans and underwear stay on, but impede in no way. I curl my arms around his shoulders and enjoy the feel of his entry, even with the bite that comes with my sore state. I moan into his mouth. He falls into rhythmic thrusts, neither fast nor slow. My hold on him tightens in response to the amazing sensations and the sudden, desperate need to have him closer. Dane’s embrace matches mine, the arms encircling my waist pulling firmer.

  “Why does being with you feel so good?” I whisper against his lips. I’m not only referring to sex.

  “Because it’s where you should be. With me.” He sounds so sincere.

  We don’t resume our kiss, but our lips remain in contact. Lifting the heels of my feet, I widen my thighs a little more and it feels deeper. Better.

  “Good girl,” he says, appreciating my slight alteration.

  Again, in unison, our holds tighten. I move my cheek to rest it against his. The music has stopped. It’s just the two of us now. I really like it. I feel unbelievably connected with this man and his possession of my body is heightening my emotions. I’m overwhelmed.

  “Why does it feel like I’m falling in love with you?”

  Oh. My. God. I did not just say that.

  Shit. Fuck no. I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t. Please, no.

  Incapable of anything else, I lower my forehead to his shoulder. Fuck.

  Dane’s now motionless. And silent.

  Seconds.

  Minutes.

  A flipping eternity.

  They all pass by.

  And I can’t move for the pure, painful embarrassment I feel. To make things worse, I sounded so fucking helpless when I said it. I want to disappear. Please.