Wicked
under her and sipped her wine, staring out at the clear night.Out here in the country, the stars were clearly visible, something she never got to see in the crowded, brightly lit city.
“You’re lulling me into a false sense of security,” she said.
“Huh?”
“This is just weird.” She didn’t know how else to explain it. “Wicked sex, then dinner, wine, and now swinging on the front porch? What the hell is up with this scenario, Rand? Let’s just get on with it.”
He finished his wine and set it on the small table next to the swing. “You got a timetable or something?”
Yes. I need to get the hell out of here before I start enjoying myself too much. “No.”
“Then chill, Blair. Quit being in such a hurry. We have all night. You even had a nap. Let your stomach settle a little bit and just enjoy the night.”
She’d hardly eaten a thing, so there wasn’t much to settle. She was as anxious and as unsettled as she could be. Anxiety skittered along her nerve endings. She wasn’t relaxed at all, despite the few glasses of wine she’d consumed. Thoughts of barbecues, backyards, swimming pools, and kids had screwed with her head. She needed to get through this weekend of wild debauchery with one thought in mind: fucking. Wicked fucking with Rand and fulfilling the terms of the bet. That was it.
Sex, sex, and more sex. Now, that she could handle. And then obliterate it from her memories forever. Come Monday, her relationship with Rand would go back to the way it had been for the past fifteen years: antagonistic and distant.
He slipped his arm behind her and toyed with her hair, massaging her scalp, gently pulling at the tendrils.
Damn, she loved when a man played with her hair. It gave her goose bumps, turned her on. Her nipples hardened. She tilted her head into his hand for more. When her pulled a little harder, she shuddered, annoyed when her clit tingled.
She was putty in his hands, damn him. He knew all the right buttons to push.
He wound her hair around his fist and tugged, drawing her neck back, then pressed his lips against her throat. Her pulse pounded, her heart slamming against her chest. Whatever cool breeze she’d felt had evaporated under the assault of heat burning her from the inside out. He scorched a trail along her neck and jaw, then captured her mouth in a fiery kiss that exploded when he parted her lips and slid his tongue inside.
Slow and easy, velvety strokes along her tongue, he explored the inner recesses of her mouth like he had all night to do this. And still, he held on to her hair, holding her head, mastering her. She thrilled to his control, the way he guided his tongue along hers, first gentle, then more insistent, pressing his lips more firmly against hers. He moved his body over hers, skimming her waist with his free hand and sliding his fingers under her shirt, lifting it over her breasts. He bent down and took her nipple between his teeth, nibbling light and easy. She clenched her teeth and lifted her hips in response, wanting him to do the same thing to her clit. There was enough light to watch him lick and bite her nipples, to see the way his tongue rolled over them, making them stand up, wet with his saliva, exposed to the air and begging for more attention.
She shivered, but she sure as hell wasn’t cold. It was the way he looked at her when he lifted his head, the hunger and passion she saw reflected in his eyes. He kept his gaze focused on hers while he popped the button on his jeans and drew the zipper down, drawing his cock out. He fisted it, stroking it, making her mouth water for a taste.
“Suck me, Blair.”
Still holding on to her hair, he pushed her head toward his lap. Eager to take his cock in her mouth, she enveloped the head between her lips, licking at the fine drops of fluid gathered there, rewarded by his groan of delight.
He might think he was in control, but in this she was the master. She flicked her tongue over the crest, then suctioned her mouth around him, sliding downward, inch by agonizing inch. He surged upward, feeding her, digging his fingers in her hair again as he moaned his pleasure and leaned back against the swing.
She dug her nails into his denim-clad thighs, her pussy wet with her own desire and eager to impale herself on his cock. A wicked hunger consumed her, a need to pleasure him, to drag him with her to heights of unbearable need.
“Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “Take it deep, Blair. Swallow it.”
She no longer wanted to defy him. What was the point, when giving him pleasure would only heighten her own? He pushed forward, and she took him deep, all the way to her throat, swallowing him, constricting around him until he lifted off the swing and dug his fingers into her hair, pulling her off his cock.
“Goddamn!” he said, jerking her head back and pulling her upright. He covered her mouth with his and ravaged it, fucking her mouth with his tongue. Hard and insistent, with a ravaging passion that left her lips bruised, her pussy swelling and aching with the need to be filled.
She whimpered against his mouth, and he pulled his lips away, dragging her astride him, facing him.
“Fuck me,” he commanded.
She thrilled to the harsh tone in his voice and impaled herself on his cock, tilting her head back and moaning at the sheer pleasure of being filled with his thick shaft.
“Yes,” she murmured, grasping his shoulders and lifting, then sank down on him, driving him balls deep into her pussy.
She established the rhythm, riding him with slow strokes, every brush of her clit against his pelvis like a shock of lightning to her cunt.
“I like you like this. Fucking you with your