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Cannon: A Pittsburgh Titans Novel
Sawyer Bennett
Release Date: February 28, 2023

Cannon West left his hockey playing days behind to care for his dying wife but has since found success on the other side of the bench. Now, as the youngest head coach in league history, he’s hoping to lead the Pittsburgh Titans to a winning season. The last thing he’s looking for is a relationship, but life sometimes takes us in another direction.

The Pittsburgh Titans are still working to move on from the tragic plane crash that forever changed the landscape of their organization. Having lost my wife, I know all about grief and the guilt of survival which makes me uniquely equipped to take this team to the next level. From the very first time I stepped inside the Titans’ arena, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.

New to town, I’m still establishing my routine, but I have the most important aspect under control—the coffee shop where I stop on my way to the arena every morning. A strong cup of java and the gorgeous manager who I can’t help but chat up is quickly becoming my favorite way to start the day. But no matter how much I enjoy the blush that stains Ava Cavanaugh’s cheeks with my admittedly awkward attempt at flirting, I know it will never be more than brazen banter with a new friend. My job consumes almost all my time, and I know firsthand what that level of commitment can do to a relationship.

That doesn’t mean I’m not open to some fun. My career comes first, but Ava understands my boundaries. The only problem is that once I give into her temptation, the rules I set for myself become blurred, and my mixed signals hurt Ava—the one thing I promised I wouldn’t do. I’ve put myself in what seems to be an untenable situation, but I’ve faced those before. Now I need to find the strength to move past my fears, or risk losing my second chance at love with the woman who has stolen my heart.

All books in the Pittsburgh Titans series can be read as standalones. See the entire series here: https://sawyerbennett.com/bookstore/the-pittsburgh-titans-series/

Buy the digital and signed paperback direct from Sawyer Bennett: https://bit.ly/STORE_Cannon
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Drake’s hands hang loosely at his sides, but his fingers are curled inward as if he’s waiting for an excuse to form a fist.

He’s clearly itching for a fight, and I don’t think I’m really even the problem. I’m just the face of it.

I walk toward him, keeping my tone level. “What part of me telling you to make an appointment didn’t you understand?”

He ignores my question, speaking to me through gritted teeth. “In case it wasn’t clear down there, and because Derringer cut me off, I do not need you to defend me with the media.”

His tone is ice, despite the fury in his eyes.

“I don’t think you need me to defend you, but I’m wondering why it bothers you so much?”

Drake sneers at me. “Because you’re doing nothing more than keeping a story alive. How about try the words no comment for a change, rather than using me to get screen time?”

How dare he!

Now I’m pissed. I move toe to toe with him and poke him in the chest. “You ungrateful son of a bitch. You’re pissed at the league because no one stood up for you back when the allegations came out, and now you’re pissed because someone is standing up for you. You need to pick a lane and stay in it.”

Drake lunges, and it’s so fast, I can barely take a breath before he’s jerking me into his body. I open my mouth to protest, but it’s immediately cut off when his mouth slams into mine.

My entire world spins like I’m caught in the power of a tumbling wave. I try to kick for the surface before I drown, but Drake’s kiss is an undertow from which I can’t escape.

The fact my fingers curl into his T-shirt in an attempt to pull him closer tells me I’d rather drown.

A slide of Drake’s tongue against mine, and a ripple of lust courses through me. Our teeth clash, and his palm slides to my ass to squeeze. I bite his lower lip, and he curses before jerking my formfitting dress up my legs to bunch around my hips.

My head swirls with how fast things are moving, but it’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me, and you couldn’t pay me to slow it down.

His hand plunges down the front of my panties where he rubs a skilled finger through my wet folds before circling my clit. I groan from the intense pleasure, and my knees almost buckle when that finger slides knuckle deep inside me. Drake merely holds me upright with his big palm curled under my ass.

“You’re soaked,” he growls into my mouth as he withdraws his hand, and I hear the triumph he’s feeling.

I gasp as he hauls me up his body. Wrapping my legs and arms around him, I hold tight as he walks me over to my desk. A small part of my conscience warns me to stop this, but the turbulent surge of lust he’s sent through my entire body feels too damn good for me to let it go.

There will be no sweeping of materials off the desk to make room as I’m a neat freak and my desk is bare except for my laptop, a landline phone, and a wooden box on one corner where I put completed work for Tina to pick up.

Our kiss is only broken when Drake settles my ass on the edge of the wooden top and starts to pull off my panties.

“The door,” I gasp, jerking my head over my shoulder. “Lock it.”

“No time,” he says as he settles into my chair and scoots it forward. “Suggest you keep it quiet.”

His hands spread my legs wide, and I am completely bared to him. His gaze is an inferno as he takes me in before glancing up. “You might want to lie back for this.”

I know what this is because he’s staring too hungrily between my legs for it to be anything other than his mouth on me.

There’s no hesitation. I go back on my elbows and save him the hassle by moving one of my legs over his shoulder. I curl it in tight, an insistence that he get on with it, and watch with eager eyes as he bends forward to press his lips to my pussy.

I bite down hard on my lip as he zeroes in on my clit. His large hands grip my thighs, fingers digging into me. Drake’s beard tickles my skin, and he hums in pleasure against my flesh.

He’s a master with his tongue, and by that, I mean I’m already rushing headfirst into what I know is going to be a shredding orgasm. He absolutely devours me, and I’m so turned on by the lewdness of the act—and the fact this man is a virtual stranger, as well as a major pain in my ass—that when I come, I have to bite down on the heel of my hand to keep from screaming. My back arches and my hips undulate against his mouth, dragging out more ripples of pleasure as he continues to work at my clit.

“Enough,” I hiss, not able to take any more direct contact, and more than anything, wanting to return the favor. I need his cock in my mouth now.

Drake rises from my chair—dislodging my leg from his shoulder—and reaches into his back pocket. The angles of his brow make him look harsh and angry, and maybe he is, but I can’t think about that right now as I watch him pull a condom from his wallet.

He tosses it at me. “Get it out.”

I sit up, my legs still wantonly spread, and tear at the foil. I guess sucking his dick isn’t on the agenda right now, but this is even better. I want to feel him inside me.

Grumpy, enigmatic man that he is, I don’t think there’s any other way to understand him.

I tear into the foil but get sidetracked by Drake unbuttoning his jeans. My mouth waters as he pushes them down his hips and frees himself.

It’s beautiful.

He’s beautiful.

Drake wraps his hand around his cock—the tattoos on his arms writhing—and strokes it, his eyes moving to me. He nods at the condom. “Need you to do your part, boss.”

I ignore the nickname and pull the condom free. While he holds himself still, I roll it on, making sure to squeeze on the down stroke, which elicits a grunt of approval.

My entire body quivers in anticipation of having him inside me, and I start to lean back. To my surprise, his hand slides to my nape, and he hauls me off the desk into a standing position.

His mouth claims mine in another brutal kiss that makes me ache for him. It’s short-lived, though, as he spins me around so I’m facing my desk and then pushes me down onto it. My chest and stomach hit the wood, and those big hands move to my ass where he kneads the flesh.

Then I feel him pressing inside me, and it’s glorious.

I look over my shoulder, and my breath freezes at his expression. It’s twisted with need, but his eyes are softened with awe as he watches himself disappear into my body.

Slowly he slides in, inch by agonizing inch, until I’m stuffed full of him and his pelvis presses against my ass.

Hands at my hips, he wastes no time setting a fast pace as he fucks me. Greedy, deep thrusts, taking for himself the pleasure he deserves after giving me such an amazing orgasm.

It feels so good and so right, despite being the filthiest, most wrong thing I’ve ever done.

So very fucking naughty, here in my office with a player, but yet… it’s just right.

Drake jerks me back a bit, only to curve over my body so he can thrust his hand between my legs. His fingers hit my clit, and I practically lose my shit.

I moan so loud that Drake’s other hand clamps over my mouth, leaving just enough room to suck in oxygen through my nose. His chest presses into my back and his teeth graze my ear. Through his staccato breaths, he grunts with every thrust. “Love. Fucking. Your. Pussy.”

I can’t reply with his hand over my mouth, so I nod furiously and he chuckles darkly.

“Might come up here every day and fuck you now,” he says as he slams into me over and over again.

God, what a job perk that would be.

“Has your boy toy ever done this to you? Come into your place of work and bent you over your desk?”

I can’t answer because I’m too busy moaning from just how good he’s making me feel… like never before.

But no, Clay would never do this. He’s too mannered, and God help me, one of the reasons I’m so attracted to Drake is because he’s not mannered at all.

He pretty much told me to go fuck myself at our first meeting when we offered him a spot on this team, and while that was about as unprofessional as you can get, a part of me admired him for his principles.

I lose concept of time, but it doesn’t feel like much has passed since my first orgasm. My second one catches me by surprise, ripped free from the unholy combination of Drake’s deeply powerful strokes and his fingers strumming between my legs. The man’s a multitasker as he manages to keep his hand clamped over my mouth the entire time so I don’t scream and give us away.

Drake’s hand moves from between my legs to my hip where he holds me steady so he can continue to drill me. I know without a doubt he could wring a third orgasm from me, but suddenly, he plants deep and lets out a feral growl of release as he jerks inside me.

His breath hisses between his teeth as he settles his weight on top of me. Not too much to crush, but enough that I feel pleasantly trapped.

Drake’s hand on my mouth moves to my jaw, and he twists my head where he stares at me a long moment before giving me a hard kiss—lips only, no tongue. Pressing his forehead to mine, he says, “After the way the league fucked me, I never knew fucking the league could feel so good.”

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Oh My God. This is way out of my league.

I want to fly out of the room because I’m achingly nervous but I want Nix more so I hold my ground. The timbre of his voice is like rough bark on a tree, deliciously grating on every exposed nerve. The look in his eyes is so sensual it makes me want to get on all fours and submit my neck to him.

On their own accord, my hands grab the hem of my jersey and pull it over my head. I’m wearing a long sleeved, white t-shirt below but I leave it on for now. Bending one knee to the floor, I quickly remove my shoes and socks. When I stand back up, I look at Nix and his position on the bed hasn’t changed. He’s watching me quietly…waiting. His only movement is his chest moving shallowly and his thick lashes blinking around those jade eyes.

I press forward, dispensing with my t-shirt quick enough and let my jeans follow. Standing before him, I wait to see what he does. Now that my main clothes are off, I really don’t feel so self-conscious. Luckily, I’m wearing some of my nicer lingerie and the simple white, lace bra and bikini underwear set shines bright against my skin.

Nix leisurely runs his gaze down my body, then moves slowly up again. I’m holding all of my breath in and I know I should release it before I pass out. I wait for further instructions and I don’t wait long.

When Nix meets my eyes again, he says, “All of it, Emily. Slower.”

I think I might just incinerate right now. I didn’t think Nix would be in for a slow seduction but clearly, the man has skills I didn’t think were possible. And he hasn’t even touched me yet.

I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra. Hunching my shoulders slightly forward, I let it slide down my arms, and drop it carelessly to the floor. Nix doesn’t watch it fall and I almost groan when I see him lick his lips while he caresses my breasts with his eyes. My nipples harden almost painfully under his scrutiny.

Then his eyes travel down and he just stares at me. Without moving his gaze, he orders me, “Your panties, Emily. I need to see all of you.”

My heart is pounding so hard, I’m sure Nix can hear it. Hooking my thumbs into my underwear, I push them slowly down my thighs until they just slide off. I step out of them and kick them to the side.

Now I’m self-conscious again, standing there totally naked, while Nix just peruses my body. I’ve never done this before, put my body under such bold examination.

“Come here,” he says thickly. The way he is watching me…he’s hungering and it makes me realize I have never known true passion before.

I walk to stand between his legs and he sits up on the bed. Leaning forward, he brings his hands to my hips while placing a gentle kiss on my stomach. My entire body trembles from the pleasure of that small touch and my arms glide to his shoulders. His skin is hot and I luxuriate in the burn.

Nix moves his mouth up my stomach. After placing a warm kiss in the center of my chest, he turns his face and rubs his cheek against me. My hands come up to his head and I lace my fingers through his hair. I don’t have to wait long before Nix brings his lips to my breast. So hot, so wet. He kisses and sucks at my nipples, paying both equal attention with his tongue and teeth. He takes his time, he savors. He doesn’t seem to be in a rush. I, however, feel like I’m going to explode from the incendiary contact of his mouth on me.

Pulling back slightly, Nix looks up at me while his thumbs smooth back and forth over my hips. “You’re so fucking beautiful. The most beautiful…” But he trails off, as if the power of his own words scare him.

My heart dissolves into a puddle of emotion over his words and I lean in slightly to kiss him. He shakes his head and stands up from the bed. Taking a step back, I watch as he takes his shoes and socks off, his gaze never leaving mine.

When he’s done he says, “Undress me, Emily.”

I don’t think twice about his order.

And it is an order.

Reaching out with shaky hands, I lift his t-shirt up and over his head. Up close, the blinded skull looks even more terrifying but I don’t want to be scared of it. I don’t want to be scared of anything that Nix presents to me.

I try to read the words on the scroll that floats down his ribs. I only catch brief snippets as I reach down to the fly of his jeans.

For quiet times disappear…

The way is not in the sky…

Don’t let your ears refuse to hear…

The words have no clear meaning to me but they are beautiful. They are at complete odds with the skull. If I get an opportunity, I want to make a study of Nix’s body, which will include all the words he finds so important to permanently ink them on his skin.

I glance up at him briefly to see the purest desire etched in his face and then lower my eyes again to watch my hands make their progress.

Popping the top button, I ease his zipper down. He takes in a sharp breath as my knuckles make soft contact with the hard bulge that is outlined below.

Taking my hands, I place them on his stomach and then smooth them around to his back. Tucking my hands into the waistband of his boxer briefs, I glide my hands down over his ass, flexing my fingers as I go. Nix growls at my touch but follows up with a whispered, “Yes”.

Emboldened, I slide my hands around to his hips and push his pants down, kneeling as I go until they reach his ankles. He lifts one leg, and then the other while I take his jeans completely off.

Nix gazes down at me while I kneel in front of him, the impressive evidence of his feelings stands boldly in front of me. His body is beautiful in every way.

I lick my lips and lean forward but I’m stopped when Nix takes his fingertips and places them at my throat. He traces them gently around to the back of my head, cupping it, and then pulls me to my feet.

“Not this time,” he whispers. “But later…”

I’m his puppet and I do what he tells me. I have no thoughts of trying to take charge because frankly, I’m not sure what to do. This is a sexual experience beyond anything I’ve ever known.

Still holding me immobile by the back of my head, Nix just stares at me, like he’s contemplating his next move.

After several painful seconds, he finally dips his head down. I think he’s going to kiss me but he bypasses my lips and heads a little further south. The first contact of his tongue is on my collarbone and I sigh softly from the touch. He kisses me gently, moving back and forth, the stubble on his face divinely abrading me.

Finally, his other arm wraps around me and pulls me in closer to his body. The heat of his skin is scorching and I can feel his erection twitching between our bodies. He feels like steel wrapped in satin.

Nix finally moves his mouth upward until our lips connect, and then he is kissing me deeply. Never releasing my head, his other hand drops down and hikes my leg up over his hip. The move brings his hardness squarely between my legs and I can’t help but move my hips against him.

The contact is overwhelming and I want to beg him to please just bury himself in me.

But I don’t.

Instead, I gasp when he reaches down and picks me up, forcing my legs around his waist.

He turns swiftly to the bed and lays me on it, never breaking contact between our lips. He comes to rest on me, gently rubbing himself between my legs and I can already feel myself building for him.

Nix finally breaks our kiss and he sits back, kneeling between my legs.

“I’m dying to make you come again, Emily. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

He looks down at me and places his hands on my knees. I can feel rough callouses against my skin and I shiver. He pushes gently against my legs and they fall apart at his simple request. He just watches me…hungrily…running his eyes all over my body.

The world seems to stop when he drags a finger down between my legs. My hips arch high off the bed and I can’t help but softly cry out, “Nix.”

A lovely smile plays across his face and I am even more turned on by the fact that he loves turning me on.

“That’s my girl,” he says, desire thick in his voice.

Nix wastes no time. He scoots backward then lies down between my legs, deftly pulling them over his shoulders. He places one soft kiss on my hipbone, then his tongue darts out to lick the same spot. Nix looks at me briefly and our eyes hold for just a moment before he brings his mouth down on me.

There is no way I could have even been prepared for that feeling of his mouth between my legs. The world as I know it spins out of control, faster and faster. I try to keep my eyes open, to stare down at his head between my thighs, but my eyelids keep fluttering closed.

I’ve never had a guy go down on me. Hell, the only guy I’ve ever been with was Todd and that was a disaster. Todd would never think to want to pleasure me. I have had girlfriends that have talked about it and how wonderful it is. But I never could imagine how unbelievably spectacular the sensation is until his lips branded me there.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming out. My muscles clench up and a pleasurable cramp rolls all the way up from where his mouth is latched on to me to the top of my spine.

Nix has no mercy. He licks, kisses, sucks and plunges with his lips…with his tongue…with his fingers. I’m vaguely aware of my head thrashing and when I look down at his glorious head working between my legs, I notice that my hands have fistfuls of his hair clenched tightly. He doesn’t seem to care.

My climax builds fast, like a fireball massively rolling outward from the nucleus of an explosion. Pressing his face against me harder, I let out a low, long moan as I come. It goes on, wave after wave, muscles clenching and releasing, all the while Nix gently kisses at me until I plummet downward again.

Nix finally raises his head to look at me and his look is dark, almost sinister. I know he’s not finished with me by a long shot. “I could do that all night to you, Emily. Just to hear your sweet cries.”

Oh God, did he know the right words to use in the bedroom? He is a terrible conversationalist in real life but he probably has the power to induce an orgasm just from his wicked thoughts translated into erotic conversation.

He licks his lips and pushes back off the bed. Rummaging around in his jeans, he brings out a foil-wrapped condom.

Nix comes to stand at the edge of the bed and I have a clear view of him while he rips open the packet. He has no modesty but there’s no reason why he should. His body is beyond glorious.

I’ve never watched this before. My sexual experiences were always fumbles in the dark. Nix is deft and efficient, and he’s quickly sheathed. I want to do that for him next time but those thoughts are banished when he crawls onto the bed, back between my legs.

Kneeling between my thighs, Nix runs his hands up my stomach and over my breasts. He rolls my nipples back and forth, causing a pleasured sound to gurgle up from my throat. He glances at me. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

He smiles. “Where, Emily? Be specific with me.”

I suck in a small breath. “I want you inside of me.”

My words inflame him and he covers my entire body with his own. His lips find mine and he is ferociously kissing me. He lays thick and heavy between my legs, rubbing himself against my heat. Nix takes one arm and loops it under my leg, the back of my knee coming to rest in the crook of his elbow. He raises me up, spreading me wider.

He pushes inside of me with gentle precision. He goes slowly, working his way in, even though I can feel that I’m wet and ready. The sensation is almost unbearable. He’s huge but my body is melting to accommodate him. I have no control over my hips as they undulate to help move him deeper in me.

Finally, with one strong push, he’s all the way in and our pelvises are locked together. Nix pulls back from my mouth and lets his gaze travel down to our union.

“Look, Emily. Look at us…together.” His words are rough, his breath heaving. I can feel his arms trembling as he holds himself above me.

I look down and I find the sight to be erotically overwhelming. Pleasure pulses through me and my muscles involuntarily clench around him. He feels it and grits out, “Fuck, Emily.”

Then Nix starts moving and my eyes close. I can feel his lips on my neck, kissing me. One arm is still holding my leg but he takes his other and wraps it behind my head, fusing our bodies tighter together.

There is no way possible we could be any closer. I can almost feel him touching every part of my body with every part of his. There’s nothing that feels neglected.

Our movements become faster, harder. We find a sympathetic rhythm that is pushing me higher and higher. He’s hitting me so deep, he’s awakened something inside of me that I didn’t know existed.

Nix’s breaths are coming faster and he’s gasping in my ear, “You feel so fucking good, Emily. I’ll never get enough of you.”

Those words evoke an unparalleled emotion in me and already I feel another orgasm coming on. And it’s coming fast but the wave of it is no less forceful.

“I’m going to come again, Nix,” I warn him, almost with fear that I won’t be able to contain my reaction.

“Damn right you are,” he growls against my neck. His thrusts become more focused, intent on wringing every bit of pleasure that he can out of me.

Without warning, it crashes through me and I bite down on his shoulder, riding the pleasure until it starts to recede like an ocean wave at low tide.

I can just feel the last rumbles easing up my spine when Nix gives an incredibly deep push, shuddering violently.

“Emily,” he groans as he unloads inside of me. My name on his lips sounds like a prayer and a curse.

I’m vaguely aware of Nix pulling back off my body a bit, the cool air soothing our sweat-soaked bodies. He rolls to the side, taking me with him.

I am boneless yet I feel invincible.

As the frantic beating of my heart starts to calm, all I can think is that this is the best experience of my new and improved life. I’m positive it can’t be topped.

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Her office is in a bad section of town and although I hardly know her, I hated she had to work there. I was surprised when she walked out of the hair salon next door and approached me with a friendly enough smile.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Came to get my hair done,” I quipped, pointing to the salon named Do or Dye.

Cute.

Viveka rolled her eyes at me, so I fessed up. “I want to talk about the case.”

“Okay,” she said carefully, motioning her hand toward her office.

I shook my head and fessed up some more. “Let’s go have a drink and talk about the case. It’s quitting time.”

My body braced for a fight and I had counter arguments worked up in my head if she insisted we stick to the professionalism of an office setting. But Viveka surprised me for what would not be the first or the last time that day, by giving me a bright smile. “Even better. There’s a bar two blocks down—”

“Let’s go The Capital Grille,” I rolled right over her. “We’ll grab dinner, too.”

And I swear—swear to God Almighty—I did not suggest Capital Grille because my apartment was in the same building. They really have good food.

She readily agreed, and so we went.

We had drinks, dinner, and talked about the red-cockaded woodpecker. I know more about the damn bird than I care to, but what she told me would at least help me to prepare somewhat for the hearing on Tuesday.

One drink turned into two, and then three. The flirtation was obvious, and neither of us needed innuendo. The attraction between us was palpable, and it had only grown since our first meeting while she was chained to a tree. When she glanced at her watch and made a clucking sound of dismay that it was getting late, I had no hesitation.

“Stay the night with me,” I said.

Her head snapped my way, and her eyes lasered onto mine. There was no question or confusion in her expression, only consideration. She knew I wasn’t asking for a sleepover, but rather to go upstairs and fuck.

She said yes and it was one of the happier moments in my life that I can recall.

And now, I’m inside her and not wanting to lose that feeling. Viveka’s eyes soften as she stares back at me, curling a hand around the back of my neck. She’s not shy when she pulls me down for a kiss, but it’s only a brief touching of her mouth to mine. Then both hands are back to my chest and she is giving me a slight push. “It was definitely amazing, but I’ve got to go.”

I don’t budge an inch. She pushes a little harder, but I give a slight shake of my head. “You don’t have to run off.”

She grins, giving a harder push while at the same time wiggling her body out from underneath me. My half-hard dick slides out of her, and I blink in surprise as she rolls gracefully right off the bed. “But I do.”

“Veka,” I call, testing the nickname for the first time.

Her head snaps my way, causing her long hair to fall over her bare shoulder. Her fucking nipples are still hard, and I want them in my mouth again.

She gives a playful wag of her finger and shakes her head. “I told you that name was reserved only for my friends.”

I plop my head in the palm of my hand as I watch her walk around my bedroom to pick up her clothes. “I made you come twice tonight. I think that makes us friends.”

Her laugh is husky. “I’ll give you that.”

“Or do you prefer I call you Viv?” I ask her.

Her eyes come to me, and I can see them clearly even though she’s across the room. That’s because even though it’s after midnight, the lights are on in my bedroom. When we had stumbled our way in here, kissing and clawing at each other, I asked her if she wanted me to turn the lights off.

She had laughed and said, “Hell no. I want to see the goods.”

I think in that moment, if I were capable of such a thing, it would have been the moment I would have fallen in love with her. I enjoy looking at the goods, too, and let me tell you… Viveka Jones has them in spades.

I’m mesmerized as she walks to the bed, stark naked and completely glorious in her nudity. She clutches her silky white panties in one hand. Viveka comes to a halt by the side of the bed and I scoot closer to her, staring at the short-cropped hair that covers her pussy. She’s a natural blonde, but I figured as much.

Given she’s Swedish and all.

When I finally let my gaze travel slowly up her body, lingering on those hard nipples and wanting like hell to reach out and pinch one, I find her eyes aren’t on my face. Instead, she’s doing her own leisurely perusal of my body.

I let her study me, not in the least bit self-conscious I have a condom still clinging to my dick filled with what felt like buckets I unloaded just minutes ago.

When she raises her eyes to mine, I give her a seductive smile. I run a finger up the inside of her leg, hearing her breath catch, but I watch my fingers progress. Goose bumps follow in my wake, until I reach those soft lips with wetness still clinging to her pale curls.

Fuck, she was drenched when I first put my hand up her skirt in the elevator to my apartment. She only got wetter the harder we fucked.

I push my finger in and tap her clit lightly. Her hips jerk, and I finally glance up. Her pupils have grown large, obliterating the pale blue like an eclipse.

“Or, I could just call you ‘V’,” I murmur, giving her pussy a slight rub. “Because this is the ‘V’ I like most on you. Right here.”

I give another tap, and she moans.

The hand holding her panties flies out and wraps around my wrist. I can feel the silk against my skin, along with the tight grip of her slender fingers. I think she means to push me away, but instead, she violently pushes my hand deeper between her legs.

My dick starts to respond, thickening inside the used condom.

And well, that’s never happened before.

“I really have to go,” she pants, moving my hand between her legs. “But get me off first. Okay, baby?”

“Fuck,” I mutter because that is goddamn hot as hell. She came twice tonight, and she wants it again from me.

She demands it of me, actually, and while I’m the alpha dog in bed—always—I don’t mind a woman expressing her needs. I love being able to give Viveka what she craves.

I lurch up from the bed, swing my legs out, and plant my feet on the floor. Viveka gives a cry of surprise when I grab her and make her lay over my thighs.

Her stomach presses against my dick, which is ready to go for another round, but that’s not what interests me at this moment.

That beautiful round ass sticks up in the air, begging for attention. I give it a light swat, then delve in to push my fingers between her cheeks. They graze over that sensitive little hole I’d like to claim at some point before sinking into her cunt.

Viveka moans, and my breath seems to freeze in my lungs. She’s soaked. Fucking dripping.

And she’s a squirmer.

I bring my other hand to spread wide over her back, holding her down while I finger fuck her. I drive one, then two fingers in deep, all the way to the third knuckle.

Viveka starts grunting in pleasure. It’s not ladylike at all, but it’s hot as fuck. My dick feels like concrete, and it starts to ache under the pressure her stomach is putting on it.

I find out quickly, though, that this woman gives as good as she gets. She doesn’t stay in place for long, but rather plants her feet hard onto the floor and pushes slightly from my lap. My dick springs upward, announcing its randy presence. My fingers don’t miss a beat, still lodged into her from behind and pumping hard. She groans and presses the hand holding her panties into my thigh. The other pulls the condom off me.

“Goddamn… yes,” I bark out as her hand closes around my cock, which is still slick with my cum from our last fuck. She starts to jack me hard and fast, matching my strokes.

The noises we’re making are like a symphony for my ears. Grunts, moans, wet skin sliding and slapping. Her ass jiggles because my hand is working her so hard from behind, and her tits sway as she rocks while leaning over my lap.

Most guys—and hell, I’m most guys—would beg a woman in this position to lean a little further and take my cock down her throat, but this frantic hand job where she jerks my cock roughly is making me see stars. This may be my new most favorite thing.

Thrusting and pumping and moaning and those grunts… from me… from her. Feels so fucking good we can’t keep quiet about it.

And then her pussy tightens around my fingers. Arching her spine deeply, she throws her head back as she cries out her pleasure. All that glorious moonlit hair that had come free a long time ago flies in an arc and floats over her back.

The orgasm takes me unaware, coming on so fast and viciously I can’t even move or make a sound. I erupt, splashing her tits, which are hanging just inches from the tip of my cock as her hand still moves on me.

“Now that was amazing,” Viveka gasps when I slowly draw my fingers out of her.

“I have no clue what the fuck that was, but I want to do that again soon.”

She laughs, straightening to peer down her at her breasts. My cum looks beautiful there but to my disappointment, she uses her panties to wipe it off.

Raising her head, she gives a lopsided grin that pops only one of her dimples before leaning over to bring her face close to mine. Dropping the panties onto my lap, she gives me a light kiss.

“You can keep those,” she says as she pulls back.

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Willow comes out swinging. “You are a backstabbing son of a bitch, do you know that?”

It’s loud enough some of my guests had to have heard her, and I’m not about to let this drama unfold in front of them.

“I strongly disagree,” I say in a low voice as I take her elbow and steer her right around toward the door. “But we’ll have this conversation in private if you don’t mind.”

“Why?” she demands, trying to jerk away. I tighten my grip, propelling her through the door and into the hallway. Because the game is in play, most people are in their seats, but there are a few stragglers who give us surprised looks as I continue to march her along while she castigates me.

“Was telling Dax your way of getting back at me? Did you think I’d come crawling back to you or something? Be the meek little girlfriend who sits around on my ass and lets you take care of me? Is that what you thought, Dominik?”

We reach the private elevator, which only the executive staff have access to. It goes up to the offices and down to the basement level where the locker rooms are. When I press my security badge to the scanner, the doors open. I push a glaring Willow inside.

When the doors close, I hit the button for the top floor and take a step back to give her a cool look. “You know damn well you have no reason to be mad, Willow. I didn’t intentionally spill your secret, nor did I even know it was a secret.”

“Oh, you knew,” she snaps, but I can hear it in her tone… she doesn’t believe it. She’d just wanted the opportunity to put herself within my range so we can hash everything out.

So be it.

The elevator opens and I take her elbow again, maneuvering her down a darkened hall and into my office. I shove the door open, push her through, and kick it shut. Before Willow can get another word in, I sling her around until she collides into my body. My mouth crashes down on hers, and I kiss her fucking silent.

It’s a beautiful thing—the way she responds—and it confirms everything I had been hoping for. She’s not truly mad. It’s repairable.

I pull away, prepared to apologize for giving her an ultimatum, but fuck if she doesn’t launch into me again. “I mean seriously, Dominik… you should have known my family wouldn’t know about how I got those scars. And besides… what I do with my life is none of your damn business. Why were you even on that phone call to begin—”

I tune her out. Disconnecting from her ranting, I start to remove my lime green and electric blue tie.

Vengeance colors, but it has other uses than team pride.

Seemingly without taking a breath, Willow continues to rail against me. I put my hand to the back of her head and when her jaw unhinges especially wide while calling me all kinds of colorful names, I shove the tie inside.

She makes a choking sort of sound—more disbelief than anything—and I get just a glimpse of her eyes rounding in shock before I’m spinning her around and pushing her down over my desk.

Her palms slap onto the cherry wood, her torso pressing onto a stack of folders that contain scouting prospects for next year. I step in behind her, press my pelvis to her ass, and lower down over her. My palms come down on the desk near her head, and I bring my mouth to her ear so she can hear me very clearly. “Enough with the recriminations. You should have it out of your system by now.”

Growling, she moves her fingers as if she’s going to pull the tie out of her mouth. My hand locks around her wrist. “Leave it. I like not hearing you for a change.”

Another tiny growl escapes her, but it has no punch since she wiggles her ass against my thickening cock.

“Admit it,” I whisper, grinding into her ass. “You came here because you wanted this.”

Willow shakes her head frantically, and I chuckle. “Liar. Beautiful, fuckable liar. You totally want it. It’s why you came to the owner’s box.”

She starts to shake her head again, but I slide my other hand between her legs to cup her possessively and she arches against my touch.

“I’ll give it to you, Willow. If you want it.”

A low, keening sound comes from her throat. I take that to mean it’s not just something she wants, but something she needs.

The rest is a blur. I think it’s the way she rocks backward into me, grinding that lush ass against my hard length. How she doesn’t remove the tie from her mouth, even though she’s more than capable. Choosing silence instead of the opportunity to tell me I’m right about the reasons for her being here.

Somehow, her leggings end up around her ankles. I also manage to get one shoe off and one pant leg pulled free. I force her legs apart, kneel, and work her with my mouth from behind. She squirms against me, squeals against the gag. When she’s a writhing, sopping mess, I surge up with my cock in hand and my pants low around my waist. Slamming into her—claiming her as mine—is the best fucking feeling in the world because Willow came back on her own volition.

I have no clue what it means.

For all I know, it’s still just sex to her.

Maybe more, since Willow is the most complex woman I’ve ever met.

We have a lot of talking to do, but first… fucking.

I drive into her over and over again. Willow plants her feet and pushes back against me with every thrust, forcing me in deeper whether I want to be there or not.

But, oh… I want to be there.

Deep inside of her—every fucking chance I can get.

Reaching out, I put one hand on her shoulder and with the other, I yank the tie out of her mouth before grabbing her hip to hold her steady as I fuck her over my desk.

“Admit it, Willow,” I grunt, plunging my cock into her. “We’re good together.”

I get nothing but gasps and moans in response.

I draw my hand back, then let it fly forward to crack down on her ass. It’s something we discovered she likes very much… on that very first night we were together.

Willow yips, slamming back onto my cock so hard it actually hurts. I smack her ass again, the resounding blow causing my hand to tingle. “Admit it,” I growl.

“We’re good together,” she gasps, then her back arches so deeply I think her spine might break as she starts to come. I can feel it all over, her orgasm leeching into me and mine gallops forward to meet her pleasure.

I push in hard, plant deep, and unload eight fucking days of pent-up frustration, lust, and worry into her. Vaguely, I hear the buzzer in the arena going off, signifying the end of the game.

My team is down there on the ice, presumably having kept our lead and won game two, yet… I can’t find it within me to be bothered to care right now.

Because the woman splayed out underneath me has once again rocked my world in a way I can’t compare to any feeling I’ve ever had before.

What I have with her is unique, and therefore, it can’t be taken lightly anymore.

I bring my palms to the desktop again, lower myself onto her, and brush my lips across the nape of her neck. “You okay?”

“More than,” she mutters and although I can’t see her face, I can hear her smile.

“You’re coming home with me tonight,” I order, allowing no room for argument.

“Okay,” she whispers… seeming totally replete.

“And you’re staying with me, at least until the playoffs are over,” I press, needing her to agree to more than one night.

“Okay,” she says again without an ounce of hesitation and I feel triumphant.

“Good girl.”

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Jorie

“Oh, wow,” I tell her softly. “I never could have imagined this.”

“See anything you like?” she asks me slyly.

And yes, I see a lot I like. I look around at the people, immediately noting several men staring at me and Elena hungrily behind their masks.

I’m so getting laid tonight.

And then, I see him.

Him.

A fucking god.

Wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans that hang low on lean hips, above which rises a trail of dark hair that stops at his navel. He’s not the type of guy who struts around flexing his abs, but I could tell if he did, they’d be washboard perfection. Muscular chest and arms, but in a toned way.

Tanned skin.

No, not tanned… olive.

Exotic.

And that’s all I can see because he’s hooded. His entire head is covered in a form-fitting leather mask. It must be laced or zipped up the back, revealing only a pair of golden-brown eyes, full lips, and dark, longish hair.

“God, he’s magnificent,” Elena whispers as he walks from the opposite side of the room.

No, not walks.

He prowls, but not toward any particular prey. Arms hanging loose but swinging slightly in that confident way that says, “I’m the fucking shit and I know it.” The confidence exuding from him is sexy as hell.

He doesn’t look at anyone, just quickly walks down a short hall in between two of the rooms and disappears.

I’m slightly dizzy because I’ve forgotten to breathe, and I take in a shaky lungful of air. When I let it out slowly, I register abject disappointment that he’s gone.

“Oh, this is interesting,” Elena murmurs as she nudges me in the shoulder. I follow her gaze to one of the previously unoccupied rooms. It’s now lit up.

The masked man is in there. He’s all alone except for some type of furniture that’s covered completely in a silk sheet. Casually walking up to it, he takes the material in hand. He pulls it off not with a magician’s flourish, but slowly so the object is revealed.

And it’s a…

Well, I’m not quite sure what it is. He walks around it, blocking it from my view for a moment. People move toward the glass to get a better look. Before I know it, my legs are moving, too, and Elena follows me so we are standing right in front of the room, the sexy, mysterious man no more than five feet from us on the other side.

He is doing something with the contraption, and when he finally moves away to face the crowd, I vaguely register people gasping.

But my eyes are pinned on him as his gaze sweeps the crowd.

“Holy shit,” Elena mutters. “That is some freaky shit.”

My body jolts at the heat in her words, and I follow her gaze. My pussy floods with wetness at the sight.

At first glance, it looks like one of those portable massage chairs where a person straddles the seat and leans forward to put their face in a cut-out cushioned headrest. But there is no headrest, just an inclined padded bench that extends forty-five degrees away from the seat that’s meant to be straddled.

The seat, if it can be called that, is square, padded, and covered with leather, with a square opening in the center.

“What is it?” I ask.

“No clue,” she says, but then it becomes clear to everyone as the man reaches into a compartment attached to the side of the unit and pulls out a flesh-colored dildo that must be eight inches. It is so life-like I can see a thick vein running up the side.

He bends over, and my jaw drops as he hooks it onto a contraption under the seat, causing about four inches to poke up through the center.

There is no doubt in anyone’s mind now that seat is meant to be straddled by a woman with the dildo inside of her.

All I can think is, Who came up with this idea?

Next thing is, I wonder what that would feel like?

The man straightens. Still not looking at anyone, he fishes inside his front pocket where he pulls out a tube of lipstick.

He walks up to the glass window and starts writing words in reverse fashion so we can read them from our side of the glass.

Slowly, he spells out his message.

Anyone brave enough to come in here with me?

“I’m going unless you call dibs,” Elena says to me quickly, her eyes pinned on the man.

“Dibs,” I hurry to say, even though my blood pressure spikes when I realize I just committed myself.

She turns to look at me with a bright smile. “That’s my girl.”

About five women now push their way up to the glass, one of them literally knocking me to the side. I wobble briefly on my heels as the women raise their hands and start calling through the glass, “Me. Me. Me.”

My heart sinks as I realize that while I might be walking toward an adventurous orgasm, I’m going to have to compete to get there, and that is something I just don’t have within me. I’ve always been more of the wallflower and never the aggressor, and I can’t handle the rejection. Not after getting rejected by Vince.

I start to turn away when a loud knocking on the glass startles me into looking back.

The masked man is staring at me, his index finger pointed in my direction. He nods, turns his hand, and then crooks his finger, beckoning me in there.

I’m immediately filled with doubt and fear, and Elena must sense it for she calls out loud enough the guy has to hear, “She’ll be right there.”

He nods and turns away, then Elena has my hand as she drags me down the short hall.

“I can’t,” I practically screech.

“You can,” she growls. “You called dibs… and there’s no going back on dibs.”

Before I know it, she’s led me down the hall to the rear perimeter of the glass rooms. She opens the door, pushing me in so hard I stumble.

As she slams the door, she calls out, “I’m leaving. Find me in the Social Room when you’re done. If you can walk that is.”

With my heart beating so hard I’m afraid I’m going to die, I turn slowly around to find the man looking at me. He’s so much larger being in the same room with him, and my fear spikes higher.

“Panties off,” he says. “Leave the rest on.”

I stare at him, frozen.

“Panties off or leave,” he says, not in a mean or condescending way, but just in a matter-of-fact one.

When I look back on this moment, I know it will be a defining one for me. I think of Vince telling me that I just didn’t do it for him anymore. After a glance at the man who is already hard beneath the denim of his jeans, I make my decision.

I pull my dress up just high enough to grab my panties, and I shimmy them down my legs, kicking them free.

“Good girl,” he praises and holds out a hand.

My legs tremble as they move forward, but I place my palm against his. When his fingers curl around mine, engulfing me so completely, I feel an electrical spark of desire join the blood racing through my veins.

Without a word, he leads me to the contraption. I falter when I look outside the glass, horrified at the crowd gathered. Women glaring at me. Men looking like they want to devour me.

“The curtains,” I practically whimper. “Close them.”

He doesn’t answer, only pulls me right to the seat and growls his order. “Straddle it.”

My eyes shoot to his, and I see no patience within the warm brown depths. He’s so stern and intimidating, yet his eyes are glowing with a clear promise that this will be good.

Within them, I also see that the curtains are going to stay open, and I think I may have made a mistake.

“I won’t hurt you,” he says in a soothing voice.

“Promise?” I whisper.

“Straddle it,” he says again, this time with a gentle coaxing filled with promise.

“Oh, God,” I moan, but then I lift a leg to straddle the seat.

Walsh

My entire fucking body is vibrating with need, and this is a cause for concern as I haven’t felt this way in forever. My life is filled with luxury—penthouse apartment, fast cars, the best champagne, and let’s not forget the never-ending supply of sex I get at The Wicked Horse.

When I walk in this place, I’m always filled with lust.

I always leave satisfied.

But I can’t remember a time I’ve gotten hard just by seeing a woman. I can’t remember a time that I’ve seen a woman and needed her more than anything I’ve ever needed before.

Sounds dramatic, but fuck if I can explain the way I almost had a heart attack when this woman in sapphire and peacock feathers started to walk away from the glass. She was interested and turned on when she saw my little contraption, but it was obvious she wasn’t going to fight for the right to straddle it.

I must remember to find her friend later and figure out a way to thank her properly for practically dragging this feathered beauty into my room. I’m playing hardball with her, taking a gamble that by taking away her control, it will make her want to stay, but there’s no way I’m letting her walk out that door.

The contraption is special. I should have named it with an honorary title as it was custom made and brought in for tonight’s event with Jerico’s permission. So many things can be done with it, but only one I want to do right now.

It’s set up about five feet from the glass and parallel to it. The minute she lifts her leg over the seat, I walk around to stand behind her.

She’s trembling—from fear, excitement, or both, I don’t know—but I move in close and bring my hands to her hips. She’s tiny and I tower over her, something that causes my dick to get harder since I could easily break her if I wanted.

Leaning down, I place my lips near an ear that has the tip of a peacock feather just barely covering it and murmur in a deep voice, “Why did you come in here?”

She shakes her head, not in denial of giving me an answer but because I don’t think she has the power to speak. Her legs are spread over the seat but locked tight, and it’s going to take some coaxing to get her to do what I want. The dildo isn’t dainty, and it’s going to take some maneuvering to get it inside what I’m betting is the sweetest and wettest pussy in the club tonight. I can just sense it. I could put my hand between her legs and find out, but I don’t need to.

“Relax,” I growl, not even recognizing my own voice. It’s thick with lust, need, and a darkness I’ve never heard before.

I tilt my head to run my lips down her neck.

She shudders, and I smile.

Perfect.

“Bend your knees,” I order.

She does nothing for a moment, but to my surprise, she complies and starts to squat lower over the seat. Her whimper about slays me.

Without taking my hands from her hips, I lean my body to the left and watch her descend. Closer and closer to the head of the dildo, the stretchy material of her dress riding up higher on her pale thighs.

When she makes contact, her head falls back and full, cherry-painted lips part with a gasp.

“That’s it.” My voice is more guttural, almost otherworldly, and it’s an indication of how turned on I am. “Rotate your hips, Feather.”

“Not my name,” she whispers. It surprises me she has the cognizance to formulate words at this point. I can feel how lost she is to the moment.

“It is tonight,” I tell her. “Now, move those hips. Work it in.”

And fuck… she does. Slow, circular movements as she pushes down on the dildo. Her breath coming in sharp little pants of need. I can feel my cock leaking, wetting the denim of my jeans. My fingers dig into her hips, helping to push her down.

“Feels… good,” she gasps as she rocks her way onto the thick latex.

Twisting my head, I turn to look out the glass and I can feel the hardcore lust coming off the people watching. This is what I really get off on… the exhibitionism… but when I see a man standing there with his dick out of his pants, stroking it hard as he watches my feathered bird, I have an insane moment where I want to close the curtains to block out the world.

“It’s in,” she moans as her ass hits the seat, and what a picture she makes as I turn to examine her.

Legs spread wide, just the tips of her toes pressed into the concrete floor. Her hands are on her thighs, her nails digging into her own creamy skin.

Yeah… not all the way in, but I’m going to rectify that.

“Hold still.” I bend to take her wrists, pulling her arms up to the inclining bench in front of her and pushing her hands to the padding. Without my command, she grips the leather covering at the edges, her knuckles going white. I glance down and see her eyes closed tight, lips pressed into a hard line.

“Going to make an adjustment,” I tell her so she’s not taken by surprise. “Lean forward a bit.”

She does with a tiny moan as the flexibility of the dildo causes it to move within her. Squatting down behind her, I reach under the contraption and pull on a lever with one hand while my other holds the padded seat. I push it up, angling it toward the inclined bench. It pushes her body forward, and she cries out in surprise as her chest is pushed into the incline. The reverse angle of the seat to the padded incline, along with half the dildo wedged in her pussy, has her pinned in place.

Just fucking perfect.

“This is going to get intense,” I tell her quietly. “Just hold on and don’t move.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, her voice tight with anticipation.

God, I hope she holds on and doesn’t jump off once I fire this baby up.

Reaching under the bench, I flip an electric switch. The engine gives a faint purr as the dildo—which is attached to a jackhammer-type stud—starts to move slowly inside of her.

“Fuck,” she screams as it pulls out and gives her the four inches plus another two, but she doesn’t move.

“Easy.” I put a hand on her lower back. “Let it do the work.”

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.”

With my fingertips, I pull the skirt up to bare her ass, almost coming as I watch the dildo working in and out of her from behind.

“Christ,” I mutter as I stare mesmerized for a moment.

“So good,” she moans as she turns her face to lay her feathered cheek on the padded bench, away from the glass window. She opens her eyes, and her stare is blissed out and blank.

Standing straight, I take a few faltering steps back, my hand involuntarily going to my cock to rub it through my jeans. I do this briefly before reaching into my front pocket, pushing past the tube of lipstick I’d put back in there after writing my invitation on the glass, and pulling out the tiny remote control.

I hesitate for only a moment before I push an upward arrow button to increase the speed. The other button, I leave alone because it would increase the depth. She’s so tiny, and I don’t want to hurt her. I’ll leave it at six inches.

The dildo-vibrator now hammers faster into her pussy. Shiny wet pussy juices shimmer on it, but my gaze slides to her face. A single tear of desperation falls out of her eye and soaks the feather below it. I hit the speed button one more notch, and she starts to moan.

Jesus… this is better than I ever thought could happen with this machine, and I have to let Micah see the fruits of his labor.

I jam my hand into my back pocket, tag my phone and pull it out. I don’t hesitate in the slightest pulling up the camera. The woman is unidentifiable with her body still mostly covered, no identifying tattoos or marks I could see, and her face and head covered with feathers. She’s simply my bird right now, but Micah has got to see this baby in action.

He’s the one that built it for me, after all. A true engineering marvel.

My fingers shake as I take a picture of the entire contraption fucking the woman, then I zoom in and take a close up of the dildo stroking her pussy.

I fire them off to Micah followed by a quick text message. You are fucking brilliant.

I don’t expect him to reply, but his responding “ding” causes me to look at my phone. Goddamn. I’ve got a hard-on.

Ditto, I respond. But I’m going to get mine taken care of very soon.

Asshole, he replies. Call me later and give me details.

Oh, I totally will. He’s going to want not just the details about how hard this makes her come, but he’s also going to want to know how well the machine works. It’s not the first he’s built, but it’s the best. His goal of starting a high-end, custom-built sex machine business looks like it might be more than just an idea over beers now. While his real job as a mechanical engineer pays him well, he’s got a kinky side he likes to explore.

I shove my phone back in my pocket and walk up to the woman getting fucked by a jack-hammering dildo. Moving around to the side of the machine so I can see her face, I squat so we are eye to eye. Her focus is gone, completely glazed over. She’s making tiny little whimpers.

Looking down to the remote, I hit the depth button and give her another inch.

The corresponding groan causes my balls to start to ache.

“Going to come, Feather?” I ask.

She tries to focus on me, but there’s no coming back from the deep sexual subspace she’s in. I watch her face carefully as more tears seep into the feathers, darkening the sapphire blue to cobalt. I reach a hand out, caress her jaw lightly.

And then I’m absolutely mesmerized as she starts to orgasm. I expected it to take her hard, but it rolls through her rather slowly. It ripples from her spine to her shoulders where she starts a full-body shudder.

Her eyes squeeze shut, more tears spill, and she lets out a long, low moan that goes on and on and on.

My finger hits the red stop button on the remote. While the dildo powers down slowly, I’m pulling a condom out and ripping it open. Doing nothing more than pushing my jeans past my hips, I spring my cock free and cover it up.

Lust pulses through me so hard I’m practically dizzy with the need to fuck her. She starts to regain some conscious focus and manages an, “Oh, fuck,” as I release the lever on the seat and pull her off with a wet sucking sound.

Turning to the glass, I pick her up, wrap her legs around my waist, and drive into her using her back against the glassed wall for leverage.

She screams and I almost come, so I just hold still as I bend my face to bite at her bare shoulder. “So sexy,” I praise.

Then I fuck her.

Up against the glass as the crowd watches, getting a great look at my cock stretching her already-overused pussy from behind.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter, surprising myself. I normally don’t let my words get in the way.

She in turn moans, “More, more, more.”

“Greedy little bird,” I growl as I hurl my body into hers, as deep as I’ve ever been in a woman.

She tightens all around me, a quick hard orgasm causing her to scream as her head falls back and hits the glass. I look down, seeing her beautiful tits jiggling under the material of her blue dress.

I bring a hand up, test the weight of one breast, and squeeze it lightly. Her head flies up, and she looks down at me. I bring my eyes up to hers, and we lock. Those eyes are magnificent… bright. Almost lime in color.

I pinch her nipple through the material, and her eyes harden with need. Snaking my fingers up, I pull the material down over the left breast and pop it free. She rotates her hips and grinds down on me, a silent plea for more. I take her nipple in between my thumb and forefinger and rotate it hard.

She bucks against me, and my balls shrink tight. I grab the material again, in the middle, and drag it down so I can see more of her gorgeous tits, the other one springing free with the nipple already begging me to torture it. I flick it with my middle finger and fuck me standing… she starts to orgasm again.

It’s all over for me. I slam into her repeatedly, my cock swelling and then exploding viciously as I watch her breasts jiggle from the pounding.

And that’s when I see it.

A crescent-shaped scar on the side of her right breast, raised and puffy.

What the fuck?

My eyes travel further down, and there’s a corresponding scar on the side of her breast that looks almost identical except it’s a bit smaller.

Oh, Jesus fuck, no.

The sight of those scars repulses me as much as they excite me… because I realize who I have in my arms. Whose pussy I’m claiming right now, and Christ… another violent ripple of pleasure courses through me with a secondary orgasm, but I’ve got nothing left in my balls to unload.

My eyes snap up to hers as my hips still move so I can prolong the best damn pleasure of my life.

Fucking goddamn Jorie Pearce.

Micah’s little sister.

So I dig my heels back into him and hang on for the ride.

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The look on my face probably says a million things, but it mostly says I’m done fighting this shit. She crossed a line tonight, going back on her word with me, but I decided she’s not the only one I’m pissed at. I’m furious with myself because I let one tiny kiss obliterate all my resolve where she’s concerned.

I am still pissed at her, though.

For using me to distract her brother.

For being outrageously seductive.

For knowing how to kiss so fucking good I feel like I’m going to die without another taste.

For tempting me and causing me to lose control.

My hands shoot out to the side of her head and I fist my hands in her long hair. She gasps as I pull her to me and slam my mouth onto hers. This kiss is brutal, born of frustration and lust, and a final fall from any grace she may have once had from me.

Her hands curl into my shirt and she fucking growls into my mouth. It shoots a bolt of pleasure straight through to my balls.

I savor her taste just for a minute, but I want more than that. Tearing my mouth away, I’m further weakened by the way her eyes are filmed over with desire and need.

Even though the words are heavy and oh so wrong as I scrape them off my tongue, I tell her, “I’m tired of your games, little girl. No more flirting and shaking your ass around me.”

She laughs at me, and well she should. She hasn’t been doing that for days now since she promised me she wouldn’t. The brat has my fucking number and she knows it was that kiss in the bar that knocked down my defenses and left me vulnerable. She may not have intended it, but Simone is getting what she’s always wanted.

Gripping her hair tighter, I lean my face back into hers and bite down on her lower lip. She gives a tiny sound of pain, so I lick it. Simone responds by thrusting her hips into me, and my rage burns even hotter that I’ve succumbed.

I release her so fast she stumbles forward slightly. I take a tiny step back, taking everything away from her but my command. My voice is harsh . . . guttural when I tell her, “Get your ass in my bed and get naked. I’m going to show you what happens when you aren’t smart enough to stop provoking me.”

The coldness in my eyes and the lack of intimacy in my tone were meant to intimidate her.

Send her running.

Instead my cock turns to fucking concrete when I see her eyes fire up with pure excitement over what’s to come.

Goddamn fucking, incorrigible brat. I watch with narrowed eyes as she saunters to the hallway, pulling her blouse up over her head as she goes.

I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Part of me hopes to hear her go into the bathroom instead, because if she does, I’m fucking out of here.

Instead, I hear the familiar creak of my bedroom door and the taunting call of her sweet voice. “Come on, Van. Show me what you got.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, and with both trepidation and yearning beyond what I’ve ever felt before, I turn toward the hallway. I feel like I’m walking to my doom.

Or is it destiny?

The urges I have where Simone are concerned are so intensely dark I can’t help but wonder how similar that makes me to him. From that first hot kiss, I’ve wanted to possess and control her, which is why it was so imperative she leave me the fuck alone.

Sadly, that ship has sailed, and I have no clue what’s going to happen once I touch her.

When I walk into my bedroom, Simone is removing her jeans. She looks up at me and holds my gaze as she wiggles out of them. When they get to her ankles, she sits on the edge of my bed and holds her legs out. I note that her panties and bra, which she left in place, are black lace.

“Do the honors,” she says with a sexy purr, completely ignoring my order to get naked and get on my bed. I’d imagined her spread-eagled and waiting, not this sexy creature wanting to play with me.

After I shut the door behind me, I pull my wallet from my pocket. Our eyes stay riveted upon one another as I fish a condom out.

I don’t say a word. An endearment. A promise of what I can give her.

I sure as shit don’t help her out of her clothes at her request.

I just free my cock from my jeans and roll the condom on, wanting her to get that this is me giving her the basics of what she’s demanded.

Nothing more.

She tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just a bit with uneasiness as she watches me walk toward her.

Bending over her, I put my hands to her hips and she gives a tiny hum in the back of her throat that she likes my touch.

She cries out in surprise when I flip her onto the bed, tossing her up just a bit before I yank her jeans off. Pulling her right up to her hands and knees, I push her legs apart.

“Oh God,” she murmurs in a way that tells me she likes what I just did.

Fuck.

I’d hoped to scare some sense into her—since all mine has completely evaporated—when she realized I don’t have love and roses to offer her. But this woman isn’t normal, or so I’m finding out, as she pushes her ass back toward me. Her head hangs low in surrender and her body trembles. My balls start aching with need.

Just fuck.

Slipping my fingers into the waistband of her sexy black panties, I peel them down the back of her legs. As she’s revealed to me, I take only a moment to admire the backside of her pussy before I slip a finger into her.

Goddamn soaked and so needy, her muscles contract around me.

“Van,” she whispers. “Please.”

An involuntary grunt rumbles out of me as I hook my finger inside of her, pressing it deeper.

“Please,” she says again, and I give her what she wants.

Removing my hand, I line the tip of my cock up to her wet folds and I start to press inside of her.

Chapter 8

Simone

I can’t breathe.

I honest to God can’t even make my lungs work because I’m afraid to take my attention away from the feel of Van as he starts to work himself inside me. I can only feel one hand on my hip, the other I imagine holding himself steady as he enters me.

And the head of his big, thick cock pressing inside.

Everything I thought I wanted from him culminates in this one thrilling, provocatively sinful moment, and I know there was Old Simone, and there will be a New Simone when this is done.

Right now, I’m In Between Simone and I can’t fucking breathe.

Van lets out a strangled sound as he takes me . . . an inch in, back out. Two in, back out.

So big and I feel stretched to capacity, but I still want him deeper. So I start to push back against him.

A hand immediately comes to the back of my skull and he grips a chunk of my hair, pulling my head up slowly. I go from looking at his comforter to my gaze sliding upward as he pulls and pulls me so my head is tipped all the way back and I’m looking at the ceiling.

“Touch yourself,” he says gruffly as he holds my head in place and resumes his slow, deliberate strokes. My hand immediately goes between my legs, and the first brush of my fingers against my clit causes my hips to tilt, seeking more friction from myself.

At the same time, Van gives a sharp punch of his hips into me, seating himself deeply, and I nearly weep.

“Yes,” I hiss as all the air in my lungs comes out in a massive rush. “So good. So damn good.”

This mysterious, withdrawn, and taciturn man shouldn’t be this alluring to me, but he is. My body hugs him tight as if it knows his cock was made just for me.

Then he moves.

A hand on my hip, the other keeping my head pulled back by his fist in my hair. Van’s breathing roughens as he starts to fuck me, and I pant right along with him as his thrusts go deeper. My fingers work between my legs, but I’m having a hard time concentrating there. Vague, distracted sweeps that can’t compare to the feeling of him pounding inside me.

Van’s hand grips my hip tighter and he slams into me with snarls and grunts of pleasure. My hand drops away from my clit to press down into the mattress for leverage, and I throw myself backward onto him.

“Fuck,” he groans as my ass slams into his pelvis, the zipper on his jeans scraping my skin.

That one word torn from his chest as if he’s died and gone to heaven is what sets me off. Like a fucking rocket, my orgasm bursts apart with such intensity I scream out my release.

Van’s hand is gone from my hair and both hands are now spanning my hips as he fucks me with brute force, and I love every fucking minute of it.

And then he’s shoving me down onto the mattress, his heavy weight slamming onto me. His pelvis bucks and grinds into my ass with a rolling motion, and then he whispers, “Simone,” as he starts to come. He gives a ragged moan that sounds fulfilled and defeated all at the same time.

He buries his head into the back of my neck, and I feel his hot breath through my hair as he continues to slowly move within me. Tiny shudders of pleasure pop along my skin as I relish every millimeter of friction his cock is still creating inside of me.

There’s a moment he goes still, and then he’s rolling off my back. Turning my head his way, I push my hair out of my face to look at him.

If I’d been hoping to find a sated, peaceful expression on his face, I’d be sorely disappointed. Instead he looks troubled as he stares at the ceiling, both of his hands resting on his stomach as his breathing starts to return to normal. He looks wicked and sinful with his condom-covered cock lying at an angle across his lower abdomen and over the bottom hem of his shirt, which he hadn’t even bothered to take off. He’s still fully dressed and he just gave me the best sex I’d ever had in my life.

His head rolls so his eyes come to mine, and I can see it in his gaze—that is all he intended to give me. I can see clearly that he’s done with me, not just for the night but for any night thereafter. He opens his mouth I’m sure to either kick me out or let me down easy, so I push up and move over him quickly. My hands go to his cheeks and I press my mouth against his, forcing my tongue inside.

He doesn’t even fight me, seemingly willing to give into me one more time the minute our mouths fuse together. My fingers press into his scalp and I roll, pulling him so he rolls right on top of me. He just fucked me hard and came hard, and yet he kisses me like he’s starved. I feel the same way, my tongue and teeth clashing with his.

I start to moan, needing something more from him. He gives me nothing but his mouth, his hands pressed into the mattress to hold his weight off me.

Fisting his hair, I give a jerk on his head and it pops up so he looks down at me. His eyes are fevered yet hard, indicating his conflict. I don’t care, though. I have him in bed right now and I’m not letting him push me away.

My lips curve into a catlike smile and I slide my fingers to the top of his head. I push down on it hard, and at first he doesn’t budge. Our eyes war with each other, me wanting and him deciding if he’s going to give me anything.

Finally he moves and lets me push him right down my body. He stops a moment to brush his lips across the top swell of my breast, still firmly held in place by my bra that never came off. I push on his head harder and he lets me.

I push him right down my body, his breath feathering across my stomach, and I spread my legs wide.

I push him down until my arms can’t extend anymore and his face is hovering right over my pussy. My legs raise over his shoulders and come to rest with my calves on his back. His eyes peer up at me, flashing with both defiance and lust.

I tilt my hips upward in demand and tell him, “Give it to me, Van.”

Fucking Christ . . . he then gives it to me by burying his face and stabbing his tongue inside of me.

Crying out, I thrust my hips up, only to have his hands flatten on my stomach and press me back down into the bed. Van gives a groan of approval that vibrates my entire core, and then he eats me out like the world will end if I don’t come on his tongue.

My back arches off the bed, my head pressing down hard into the pillows. My heels dig into his back and my hips start to rotate against his mouth. He groans again and lashes at me hard with his tongue. An orgasm curls low in my pelvis and I suck in a hard breath, lifting my head to watch him. That dark, soft hair falling forward so I can’t see his face, but the way his head is moving is so erotic, I decide to just let go and give into it.

I break apart with a soft cry, my pussy grinding against his face. I come and I come as he works me with his mouth. He doesn’t stop and I don’t ask him to. I make it past the uncomfortable oversensitivity of my clit, panting with effort to do so. He still doesn’t stop and I know he has no intention of doing so.

So I dig my heels back into him and hang on for the ride.

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I slowly drop to my hands and knees and start crawling toward Wyatt. His face is hard, a muscle popping at his jawline. He gazes down at me intently and I see the subtle grinding motion of his teeth, silently gnashing at each other.

If I were really Nikki O, down and out stripper who needs this job and would do anything to keep it, I would think Wyatt was looking down at me with barely uncontrolled lust. But as FBI agent Andrea Somerville, who knows exactly what stakes are at risk here, and who remembers when Wyatt told me the other night that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me, I see a man that is furious and regretful all at the same time that I’m crawling toward him.

Lance gives a dark chuckle behind me. “She looks phenomenal from this angle, Raze.”

Closer and closer I get to Wyatt and my heart is thundering deep within my chest. My heart aches for him as I take note of the very clear erection pressed against his black jeans, showing his traitorous body.

“You’re forgetting something,” Lance says thickly.

I pause in my crawling and turn my head to look back over my shoulder. Lance’s eyes are pinned onto my bare ass since I’m wearing a thong but then his eyes slide to mine. “You need to beg him.”

I give Lance my most capitulating look coupled with a smile of assent and turn back to Wyatt.

Looking him straight in the eyes, I start crawling toward him again.

“Please… Raze… let me give you a blow job.”

His jaw muscle pops again and his fingers curl tightly into the armrest.

I crawl closer.

“Please… let me suck you down.”

Teeth grinding, his legs spread apart to give me room to crawl right up to him.

Reaching out, I place one hand on his knee and use it to pull myself up in between his legs. I hope he can see the apology in my eyes when I say, “Please… Raze… let me make you come with my mouth.”

“That’s it baby,” Lance murmurs behind me and a shudder of disgust over the lust in his voice floods through me.

My eyes flutter closed and I swallow hard. When I open them back up, I don’t dare to look at Wyatt, but instead look down at the straining fly of his jeans. My hands are shaking when I reach out and pop the button, and his hips shift slightly as I lower the zipper.

“Lift your ass,” I say quietly and he does as I ask. I hear his teeth grind together harder and I internally wince because I know that hurts.

My fingertips slip into the waistband of his underwear and I gently tug them and his jeans down. His erection is revealed and when the constraining material is removed, it stands up tall, and thick and hard as a rock.

It’s fucking beautiful and even though this is an act… a part of the job… the tingling sensation between my legs tells me this is not going to be a hardship.

“A little privacy,” Wyatt says thickly and my eyes jerk up to his. He’s not looking at me though. His gaze is focused over my shoulder at Lance and the hard glint I see reflecting leaves no room open for Lance to argue.

“Enjoy,” Lance says and then I hear his shoes quietly whispering over the carpet. I don’t turn to see him leave but instead watch Wyatt’s gaze as he follows Lance’s movement. I hear the office door open, then close again, and we are alone.

Wyatt’s eyes slide to mine and I expect to see relief that Lance is gone. Instead, his face is awash with regret.

His hands come up to clasp on either side of my head and he pulls me up as he leans down toward me. I’m stunned when his mouth comes down on mine and he gives me a swift kiss. His lips are velvety against mine and lust courses through me. I open my mouth, but all too quickly he pulls back and sticks his lips near my ear.

“I’m sorry,” he says in the barest whisper that I almost can’t hear him.

“Me too,” I whisper back. “Thank God he’s gone and we don’t have to—”

“No,” he says urgently, still in a voice so low that it sounds like it’s being carried away on the wind. “I’m sorry because there’s a camera over your shoulder. He’s watching us.”

“What?” I breathe out in surprise while Wyatt moves his lips across my skin. I realize he’s hiding his mouth so Lance can’t see what he’s saying to me.

“He’s testing me as well.”

And understanding slaps me silly.

He’s watching to make sure that Raze is fully on board with showing dominance over the women here. He’s making sure that Raze has no problem in taking advantage of me… of abusing me.

My mind is spinning and then spins harder when Wyatt brings his mouth back to mine. Another hard kiss and then he’s murmuring softly against my lips. “Listen closely… the camera is to your back so if you bend over my lap, we can fake this. He can’t hear us… just see us. Your hair and the camera angle will hide what you’re really doing. It’s time for both of us to put on a performance. Just follow my lead and fucking fake it.”

I take in everything he says to me in a mixture of part relief, part disappointment, but ultimately acceptance as this is the best thing possible so that boundaries aren’t crossed. I nod and before I know it, Wyatt’s hands move to my hair where he grips my head roughly.

He pushes down on my head and I know that his face is visible to the camera again because he clearly says, “Time to put that mouth on my cock, baby.”

This is said with another low murmur, as it’s doubtful that Lance is at the door listening. Instead, he’s in the security room watching the silent feed on this office’s camera, but if he’s adept at reading lips, Wyatt is giving him what he wants.

I bend my head down toward Wyatt’s lap and my long hair floats all around me, shielding my face and Wyatt’s cock that’s sitting inches from my lips. It’s dusky with a thick vein running along the bottom and I feel terrible that Wyatt is suffering right now.

Bringing my right hand over, I bring it up under the curtain of my hair and lay it on his pelvis, so that it looks like I’ve taken him in my grasp. I bend over further, and it’s my hope that as Lance watches, he thinks I’ve taken Wyatt deep into my mouth.

I start a fluid bobbing motion with my head, keeping my eyes wide open so I don’t actually make contact with Wyatt’s skin. I watch that beautiful cock come close to my lips, then get further away as I raise my head. He shifts slightly under me and I can imagine his head is thrown back. His hands tighten in my hair, and he actually exerts slight pressure to help keep me from touching him.

My heart thumps with exhilaration that we are pulling this ruse off, and also with a weird, achy need. I also feel tremendous guilt that, while this is hard on me, Wyatt is the one with the straining erection that isn’t going to get a damn bit of relief.

I bob up and down, and in my zeal to put on a star performance, I push down a little too hard and my chin grazes against the tip of his shaft. Wyatt hisses… almost as if he’s in pain and my body freezes. I raise my eyes even as his fingers dig sharply into the back of my neck and side of my head.

His look catches me off guard and the oxygen is pulled from my lungs. His eyes are filled with lust and frustration, yet he says to me softly, “You’re doing great baby. Keep going.”

Anger, and guilt, and shame and fury roll back through me again, and I am pissed that Wyatt is being made to suffer this travesty.

“This isn’t working,” I whisper.

“Sure it is,” he says through gritted teeth and pushes back down on my head so I can resume my ruse. “Just a little more and I’ll fake the world’s biggest orgasm.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur and our eyes lock. I hope he can see how truly, truly sorry I am for what I’m getting ready to do.

I lower my head and move my hand to grip him at the base of his cock. The minute my fingers touch his warm flesh, his entire body tightens. I open my mouth and guide the tip of him inside of me, taking him deep inside… straight to where my tongue ends and my throat begins.

“Fuck,” Wyatt groans and his hips buck up hard against me.

His skin is warm, salty, and pulsing within my mouth. I start moving… desperately, with purpose. I want him to come… I want him to have a moment of peace and pleasure, and I want more than anything for us not to fuck up this operation when we are too close to the finish line.

Mostly, however, I want Wyatt to feel good. I want to make him feel good.

I move over him, licking and sucking. I pump him hard with my hand and moan low in my throat so he feels the vibrations against his skin. I want this to go quickly, because I want us both to get past this, and because the longer I keep him in my mouth, the more I yearn for something more.

I feel twitchy and unsettled, a deep, empty feeling within me. I want the world to melt away so there’s no Lance watching us, no strip club music thumping outside the doors, no jilted fiancée feelings within me. I wish this was just me and Wyatt… two people that are attracted to each other and can bask in the physical pleasures we could afford in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Wyatt starts chanting and a quick raise of my eyes reveals his head to be thrown backward and the muscles in his neck corded tight. His fingers dig into my scalp, then relax in spasms. His hips gyrate underneath of me with need and I move up and down on his warm, slick shaft.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… coming… fuck… coming,” Wyatt groans and pushes down hard on my head. I suck him in extra deep, feel the first shot of him against the back of my throat and I take every bit of him down. His breathing is erratic…sharp blasts of air that I can feel fluttering against my hair. I softly lick against his skin before pulling away from him… terrified to look up in his eyes.

He doesn’t give me a chance to face my cowardice though because his hands come under my armpits and he’s hauling me up his body. His mouth meets mine brutally and his tongue dives in deep. Wyatt kisses me deeply… so invasive I feel him everywhere and my fingers clutch hard onto his t-shirt.

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“How long have you been standing there?” I say almost breathlessly as I press my fingers to the center of my chest.

“Not long,” he says and pushes off the doorjamb. He walks into the room and looks around. It is mostly filled with finished paintings and a few easels, rows of shelving on one wall to hold my supplies, and a tiny desk against another wall where I do stuff like reconciling my bank account or surfing online on my laptop.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” I murmur as I watch him prowl around the edge of the room, taking a moment to pause by the shelves and peruse my paint supplies.

“You didn’t,” is all he says without looking at me. Instead, he picks up a brush, inspects it briefly, and then puts it down. I find this reserved attitude a bit disconcerting. I mean, it’s always sort of awkward that next morning after some amazing and intimate sex, but I wasn’t ready for him to invade my little studio that is sort of like a haven for me.

He turns to me, his eyes sliding to my canvas where the cats are almost complete. “Nice pussies,” he says with a smile.

I roll my eyes, but I’m immediately relieved to have him joke with me. “Juvenile,” I chastise.

Kyle chuckles as his gaze slides to me. “Nowhere near as nice as yours.”

I blush hot, which means my cheeks are probably blazing red. He smirks, which means he notices, and then adds on in a low voice. “I know without a doubt they don’t taste as good as yours.”

My face gets hotter, but I manage a snappy retort. “Acrylic paint tastes terrible.”

Kyle grins at my rejoinder and turns to my desk. To my surprise, he grabs the small wooden chair nestled underneath and pulls it across the floor to sit right behind my stool. He takes a seat and his long, jean-clad legs frame the rear of my stool on either side.

“What are you doing?” I ask curiously.

“Going to watch you paint,” he says.

My entire body tightens at the thought. “I don’t think—”

Kyle’s hands go to my hips. He turns me on my stool, so I’m facing my canvas again. “Paint,” he orders.

“Kyle—”

His chin goes to my shoulder, and he softly repeats, “Paint.”

A tiny spasm of adrenaline rockets through me at his seductive tone, but also because he wants to watch me do something that’s a part of my very being.

“Okay,” I whisper, and Kyle lifts his chin.

I continue using white to add highlight and contrast shading along the body of the black cat, my own body in a state of hyper awareness of Kyle’s just inches behind mine. I swear I can feel heat radiating off him.

“Where do you get your ideas from?” Kyle asks, and I give a little jump to feel his breath on the back of my neck. I’d piled my hair up when I’d quietly slipped out of bed, only bothering to put on my panties and the t-shirt I’d been wearing.

I give a tiny shrug. “I’m really not sure. Sometimes I’ll see an object that will spark an idea, or I’ll read about a scene in a book and feel compelled to paint it.”

“The colors in this are deeper than your watercolors,” he observes astutely.

I nod as I continue with my brush strokes, feeling more at ease as we talk. “Good eye, and that’s the benefit of acrylics. I’m not used to painting with this, but I’ll get better with practice.”

“Why are you using them if it’s not what you’re used to?” he inquires.

I draw a thin white line of paint along the jawline of the gray cat. “I like learning new things, and I need more than just watercolors to teach my students.”

“Makes sense,” is all he says.

Kyle’s silent as he watches me for a few moments, and just as I start to really relax into my work, his hands come back to rest on my waist. I can hear him scoot the chair forward until it bumps against the back of my stool. He leans forward and presses his chest to my back, his chin coming back to my shoulder.

My brush freezes on the canvas and my breath goes still within my lungs.

Kyle’s hands slide down over my hips to my outer thighs. His roughened palms cause goose pimples to rise as he strokes them along my legs.

“I have to say, Jane,” he says gruffly, his lips mere inches from my ear. “You sitting here in that t-shirt and just your panties, hair all piled up and that little tongue sticking out the side of your mouth… Well, I had nefarious intentions walking in here.”

Kyle’s hands pivot and his fingers glide over the insides of my knees. With very little pressure needed at all, he pulls my legs slightly apart and then starts sliding his hands up my inner thighs. I go dizzy from his touch, his sexy voice, and perhaps the fact I’m still holding my breath. As his hands slide higher, my legs press in a little just from the nervous anticipation.

“Relax, baby,” Kyle whispers as he puts pressure on my legs so they open again.

My breath comes out in small, stuttering huffs, and I suck another lungful in as his fingertips skim the elastic edge of my panties.

“Want to know what my nefarious intentions are?” he teases me as he runs just one finger along the edge.

I nod frantically but no words come out.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs, his hands falling away from me briefly.

I almost call out in distress over the loss of his touch, but then he’s banding an arm around my stomach, pulling me back so my ass presses against his crotch. His other hand glides slowly down the front of my panties, his fingers sliding through my wetness before pressing inside of me.

My hips buck hard against his delicious invasion, my head falls back to his shoulder, and my paintbrush falls from my hand. It slaps against my thigh, leaving a white paint streak and landing on the floor, but I don’t care one tiny bit.

“Don’t stop,” I moan as he finds my clit, circling his finger around it gently.

“Just getting started,” he assures me as he continues tracing lazy patterns.

“More,” I demand greedily, planting my feet into the floor hard and pressing my hips up.

Kyle gives a low groan of triumph. “That’s my girl.”

My heart constricts hard over those words.

My girl.

“Lift up a bit,” Kyle demands of me, so I do, raising my ass off my stool. Kyle quickly dispenses of my panties, leaning to the side a bit to push them down my legs. Once he frees one foot, he ignores them and straightens back up in his chair before once again pulling me back against him.

He brings a palm down in between my legs, cups me intimately for a moment as he again leans to the side.

I’m confused when he says, “Watch.”

Kyle dips his fingers inside me briefly before dragging them upward to reveal my clit. He pulls back on the tiny hood covering it, and I’m enthralled by how swollen and needy it looks.

Then I’m absolutely stunned when I see that Kyle has one of my paintbrushes in his other hand. He must have nabbed it off my supply shelf, but it’s one that has luxuriously soft bristles.

I suck in my breath and watch as Kyle takes the brush and swirls the bristles along the inside of one thigh. I jerk because it tickles and laugh nervously.

But my laugh dies down when he slowly drags the brush in between my legs, and ever so gently swipes it right up my center. My hips fly upward. Kyle’s arm holds me tighter as he uses his other hand to hold me open.

“Watch, Jane,” he murmurs, his voice thick with wonder and lust.

And I watch as he uses the damp bristles to circle around my clit, and the sensation is indescribable. My entire body starts to tremble as I watch him getting me off with my paintbrush. He carefully dips the tip inside of me just marginally… enough to get it wet, and then he makes light strokes against my clit, over and over again.

My body trembles harder and my hands turn into claws that I sink into his thighs.

The strokes are so feather light, and he’s purposely going slowly to draw this out, whereas I only want to come and come and come.

“God, this is sexy as fuck,” Kyle mutters in my ear as he twirls the brush around my clit, going a little faster. My entire body goes tight. “We need to try this while I’m fucking you.”

And just like that, I explode

I groan out my release as he continues to swirl the brush around me, whispering words of praise and encouragement, and when I don’t have any more to give, he tosses the brush to the floor and merely places his large palm over my crotch to gently squeeze me possessively.

“Kyle,” I murmur in repletion, still dizzy from that climax.

“Get up,” Kyle commands me gently, his hands going to my hips to push me up from the stool. The minute my legs straighten, he’s turning me to face him. My hands go out to his shoulders for balance, and I watch as he quickly unfastens the fly on his jeans. He lifts his hips a little, pulling them down just enough to free himself. I watch with wide eyes because that part of him is just as beautiful as the rest, marveling at how quickly he gets a condom out and rolls it on.

I give a tiny gasp of surprise as Kyle’s hands go back to my hips and he jerks me forward. He looks up at me with fevered eyes and admits something I think shames him by the tone of his voice. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Before I can even respond, he surges out of the chair and spins me toward the nearest wall, right beside my desk. He pushes me right up against it, my breasts flattening and my heart racing with his forcefulness.

Kyle’s mouth comes to the side of my neck and he bites me gently before giving me a soft lick. His hands pull my hips backward and I feel his body bend, then he’s pushing inside of me.

Straight inside, one long, fluid stroke.

“Ooohhh,” I moan as I turn my head and place my heated cheek against the cool wall.

Kyle grunts in pleasure before he pulls out and thrusts back in hard. My body jars against the wall as he starts a steady rhythm, and I realize… this is new as well. So many things that Kyle is showing me that in my totally boring previous sex life had seemed like pretty good stuff.

But now… now that I know this…

I think I might be ruined for anyone else.

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