Book Boyfriend of the week:
Vishous, of the BDB!
Vishous, of the BDB!
*Warning* Please make sure you have a fresh pair of panties on hand. This scene is smoking and will have you panting. If you are work, you're probably going to have to visit that bathroom after reading this. ;)
He pulled part of the duvet over his hips, covering an erection that was straining against his flannels. "I don't want to hurt you."
She shot him a glare that was part sexual frustration, part Gertrude Stein. "I'm tougher than I look. And to be honest, the whole male-driven, I'm looking-out-for-your-best-interests bullshit gives me the scratch."
She turned away with her shin up, but then realized there was nowhere really to go. Way to make an exit.
Confronted with an utter lack alternatives, she went into the bathroom. As she paced between the shower and the sink, she felt like a horse in a stall---
With no warning at all she was tackled from behind, pushed face-first into the wall and held in place by a rock-hard body twice the size of her own. Her gasp was first one of shock, then one of sex as she felt V grin into her ass.
"I tried to tell you no." he growled as his hand buried itself in her hair and locked on, pulling her head back. As she cried out she ran wet between her legs. "Tried to be nice."
"Oh . . . God---"
"Praying's not going to help. Too late for that, Jane." There was regret in his voice--as well as erotic inevitability. "I gave you a chance to have it on your terms. Now we'll do this on mine."
She wanted this. She wanted him. "Please--"
"Shh." He cranked her head to the side with a twist of his wrist, exposing her throat. "When I want you to bed, I'll tell you." His tongue was warm and wet as it rode up her neck. "Now ask me what I'm going to do to you."
She opened her mouth, put could only pant.
He tightened the hold on her hair. "Ask me. Say, "What are you going to do to me?"
She swallowed. "What . . . what are you going to do to me?"
He wheeled her to one side, all the while keeping his hips tight to her ass. "You see that sink, Jane?"
"Yes . . ." Holy shit, she was going to orgasm---
"I'm going to bend you over that sink and make you hold onto the sides. Then I'm going to pull your pants off."
Oh, Jesus . . .
"Ask me what's next, Jane." He licked up her throat again, then clamped what she knew was a fang onto her earlobe. There was a delicious lick of pain, followed by another rush of heat between her legs.
"What's . . next? she breathed.
"I'm going to get on my knees," His head went down and he nipped her collarbone. "Say to me now, 'And then what, V?"
She nearly sobbed, so aroused her legs started to fail her. "And then what?"
He tugged on her hair. "You forgot the last part."
What was the last part--what was the last . . . "V."
"No, you start over. From the beginning. He pushed his arousal into her, a hard ridge that clearly wanted in her now. "Start over, and do it right this time."
From out of nowhere an orgasm came bearing down on her, the momentum carried forward by the rasp of his voice in her --
"Oh, no, you don't." He packed off from her body. "You don't come now. When I say you can, you will. Not before."
Disoriented and aching, she sagged as the need to released receded.
"Now say the words I want to hear."
What were they? "And then what . . . V?"
"I'm going to get on my knees, run my hands up the backs of your thighs, and spread you open for my tongue."
That orgasm rushed back at her, making her legs tremble.
"No." he said in a growl. "Not now. And only when I say."
He maneuvered her to the sink and did exactly what he'd told her he would. He bent her over, planted her hands on either side of the basin, and commanded, "Hold on."
She tightened her gand up good and hard.
He used both his palms on her, running them up under her shirt, cupping her breasts. Then they were down over her stomach and around her hips.
He yanked her pants down with one sharp pull. "Oh . . . fuck." This is what I want." His leather clad hand gripped her ass and massaged it. "Lift this let."
She did, and her yoga sweats disappeared off her foot. Her thighs were pushed apart and . . yes, his hands, one gloved, one not, coasted upward. Her core was running hot and needy as she felt herself bared to him.
"Jane . . . " he whispered reverently.
There was no prelude, no easing into what he did to her. It was his mouth. Her core. Two sets of lips meeting. His fingers dug into her cheeks and kept her in place as her went to work, and she totally last track of what was his tongue or his goateed chin or his mouth. She could feel herself being penetrated between lapping drags, hear the sounds of flesh on flesh, knew the mastery he had over her.
"Come for me." he demanded again her core. "Right now."
Umm...have a nice day. *falls to floor*