10 Rules to Sex Up a Blind Date Page 4

  ‘You okay, Tally?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her eyes darted to his to find him watching her, his gaze suddenly guarded. ‘As long as round two doesn’t consist of you putting that anywhere unexpected.’

  He laughed, the sound rich with what sounded like relief. He settled on the sofa beside her, then combed her hair back behind her ear, his thumb trailing across her collar-bone to touch the frantic pulse in her neck. She stiffened, the affection in the gesture disturbing her.

  ‘I prefer straight talk when it comes to sex.’ The gruff tone scraped across her already overstimulated nerve endings like sandpaper. ‘But who the hell knew it could be such a turn-on?’

  He cradled her cheek and she jerked her head back, not liking the approval in his gaze any more than she appreciated the tender stroke of his fingertips.

  ‘I’m serious,’ she said, trying to disguise the hitch in her breathing and not get distracted as his fingers trailed down to roll her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I don’t do anal.’ Or at least she hadn’t yet, and while she might be open to the prospect now, she didn’t plan to do a training run tonight with something that gargantuan.

  The moron who had said size didn’t matter had clearly never been confronted with this situation.

  His hand settled on her hip. ‘That’s good, ’cause neither do I.’ Relief gushed between her thighs at the unequivocal statement. ‘Now shut up, relax and stop panicking.’

  She grinned despite herself. ‘Bossy, much, O’Neill?’

  After Henry, she’d promised herself she would never get bossed around in bed again. But why should it matter with Brent? They weren’t in a relationship; they were bonk buddies for one night only. And bending to Brent’s will felt playful and exciting—instead of humiliating.

  ‘Haven’t you heard?’ The mocking smile seemed annoyingly endearing as he shoved her into the sofa cushions. ‘Bossy is the new hot.’ His thumb glided down between her breasts, skimmed the sensitive skin of her belly, circling her belly button before sinking into the curls guarding her sex. His eyes met hers as his thumb finally parted the slick folds of her sex and glided over the swollen bud. ‘Time to suck on this stiff little clit.’

  It wasn’t a request, it was a demand, but as his fingers teased and provoked, swirling at the perfect spot, her knees parted, the invitation obvious. And she nodded.

  He grinned, the boyish excitement making her picture a kid who had been let loose in a sweet factory.

  Shifting onto his knees, he stroked open palms down her thighs to press her legs even farther apart and hold her open. Instead of feasting, though, he breathed in, his nose skimming the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

  ‘Damn, you smell awesome.’ His thumbs angled down and her heartbeat pounded against her ribcage like a pneumatic drill. He licked his lips, raising his eyebrows at her, his face alight with amusement, anticipation. Spreading her folds, he gazed adoringly at her. ‘Will you look at that, all pink and wet, especially for me.’

  His enthusiasm took her arousal to fever pitch. The guy obviously had some sort of fetish, but if ever there was a fetish a woman could get behind, this had to be the one.

  ‘I’m going to lick every delicious inch of you.’

  ‘Be my guest,’ she urged, her voice a high-pitched croak, which would have been mortifying but for the fact all coherent thought had fled. ‘But could you get a move on before I pass out.’

  He chuckled, obviously enjoying her desperation.

  She bucked as his tongue touched her leg at last and trailed upwards to lick the sensitive seam of flesh where her thigh met her torso. Sensation shimmered, her pulse hammering her collar-bone like a woodpecker on speed, adrenaline making her limbs hum with tension. A low moan escaped as he lapped at the lips of her sex.

  Her skin flushed hot, her muscles going lax, liquid.

  ‘Cup your breasts and squeeze your nipples for me.’

  She obeyed the rumbled command without question this time.

  ‘Harder. I want those nipples puckered up like bullets.’

  She did it, moaning as his clever, inventive tongue flicked backwards and forwards, teasing, torturing the already tender nub. One thick finger entered her, stroking, probing, rubbing the walls of her sex. Then another, stretching her wide as his tongue swirled, steadily, relentlessly.

  ‘Faster,’ she begged, pumping her hips to meet the torturous laps of his tongue, desperate to increase the pace.

  But he held her down, obviously not in any hurry.

  Just as she thought she would go mad from desperation, his lips fastened on the swollen bud and he suckled. She tried to jump off the cushions, shouting out as she soared upwards. He bore down, holding her immobile, her thighs spread, her folds open and vulnerable as he feasted. She crashed over at last, but couldn’t come down or regroup before he began to tease, to torture again. The wave rolled back to crest again, and again, until her moans became sobs, the pleasure unstoppable, addictive, relentless.

  ‘You have to stop,’ she groaned, grasping his head, trying to pull his mouth away. ‘I can’t stop coming,’ she cried, caught in a vortex, her mind drifting into a new, unexplored realm where pain and pleasure collided.

  ‘Once more,’ he demanded, fastening his lips on the yearning bud again. She bucked, shuddered, the broken shout echoing as she tumbled through that final barrier.

  She collapsed, her whole body shuddering as he released her. She felt hollowed out, exhausted, limp with a shaky sense of vulnerability.

  She watched in a daze as he smiled at her, then winked. ‘Delicious, as expected.’

  She struggled up to prop herself on her elbows, naked and trembling. Emotion rushed towards her, a huge lump swelling in her throat, and she had the sudden urge to cry. No man had ever made her come like that, with such selfless devotion, as if he knew exactly what she needed and wanted nothing more than to give it to her.

  ‘I can see why your skills are legendary. You’re exceptionally good at that,’ she said, even though it was probably the understatement of the century. He wasn’t good—the man was a maestro.

  His expression became shuttered, his eyes losing that tempting twinkle, the smile dying. ‘Thanks.’

  She crossed her arms over her breasts, the brittle response exposing her. She hadn’t meant to insult him, but somehow she had. The moment of regret and confusion was followed by the sharp stab of annoyance. Why should she care that she’d upset him, touched a nerve? This wasn’t complicated sex, it was very, very simple sex. And the only reason he’d tongued her to orgasm so selflessly was because he wanted the same in return.

  She wrapped her fingers around his thrusting erection. The best way to thank him was to give him what he wanted—and make him come until he collapsed too. Brent O’Neill might be the ultimate lover in bed, but that was all he was to her.

  She glided her thumb over the tip of his penis, eager to have him wedged inside her. ‘How about that blow job? It’s payback time.’

  He gripped her wrist to hold her off. ‘The BJ can wait. Right now I need to fuck you. I hope to hell you have condoms, because I don’t.’

  She nodded, the crude demand a relief.

  Stumbling off the sofa, she grabbed her bag and came back to find him standing, waiting for her. Tall and indomitable, the moment of regret wiped from his face. He tugged the bag from her, dumping the contents to pluck the box of condoms from the debris strewn across the sofa. She should have been outraged, but the thought that he was as desperate as she to get this encounter back on track was a balm to the ragged feeling in her soul.

  He tore off the packaging, rolled the condom on. Grasping her upper arm, he bent her over the back of the sofa, positioning her so that her naked bottom was thrust into the air.

  Large hands bracketed her hips as she pushed her palms into the sofa cushions to
stop from falling forward. ‘I hope you like it rough, because I’m all out of finesse.’

  ‘Rough is good. I don’t need finesse,’ she said, and meant it, despite the surge of panic as the broad head of his penis parted her folds.

  She stifled a groan as the wide shaft surged deep, the slick juices allowing him to stretch her to the limit in one powerful thrust.

  ‘Christ, you’re so tight. Is that okay?’

  She panted, the thick intrusion overwhelming, excessive. ‘Shut up and fuck me, Brent.’

  She wanted rough, she wanted oblivion, she didn’t want to feel or think anymore. All she needed was the fast adrenaline rush of hot sweaty tub-thumping sex.

  He took her at her word. Gripping her hips, he pumped into her. Drew out, pounded back, forcing her muscles to release, to relax and let him in. All of him.

  She grunted, shocked by the depth of his penetration.

  Jesus, she hadn’t taken all of him yet?

  Her dazed mind refused to engage as each powerful thrust took him deeper, further, until it felt as if the mammoth erection reached all the way to her throat. He clutched her breasts, capturing the swollen nipples, holding her steady for the relentless pounding. Her hips hit the sofa with the force of his thrusts. Desire built, hard and fast, as his penis worked a spot inside her no man had ever found before.

  Did she have a G-spot after all? She’d never come before from penetration alone. But maybe...?

  She sobbed, his grunts drowning out the sound of their sweat-slicked bodies slapping together as he dug deeper, again and again. The whirlpool of intense pleasure swirled around her but held her trapped, and wouldn’t let her fall.

  ‘Don’t stop, that’s it, right...’ she panted. ‘Yes...there.’

  She hovered, perilously close to the brink, her mind floating now, drifting, as sensation battered her, the brutal rhythm driving her onwards, upwards. Nearer, and nearer, but never getting her close enough.

  ‘I can’t come...’ she cried. How could she be so high and yet unable to fall? ‘It’s too much.’

  ‘The hell it is.’ He changed the angle suddenly, freeing one hand to find her clitoris. Locating the swollen bud, he thrust hard as the perfect pinch sent her plummeting over the cliff. The devastating orgasm crashed through her in endless waves. Brutal, raw, all-consuming—so much more shattering than before.

  ‘Keep coming, goddamn it, and milk me dry.’

  She barely felt the sting as he laid his hand across her behind.

  And barely heard his agonised shout as he tumbled after moments later.

  Chapter Five

  #NewRule: If afterglow is more like aftershock it means you’re doing it right OR London’s been hit by an 8.9 on the Richter scale! O-o

  What the ever-loving fuck?

  Brent gulped air like a drowning man, aware of Tally’s muscles still massaging his length and the ragged sound of their breathing. The scent of sweat and sex and the sweet spice of her arousal made his head spin as his orgasm finally faded. He held her hips, holding her as gently as he could when she mumbled something that sounded like, ‘Too much.’

  ‘Shh, easy.’ He stroked her bottom, his throat drier than the damn Gobi Desert. Too much was right. Way too much.

  He’d never come so hard and long in his entire life. He concentrated on locking his knees and waited for his penis to soften enough so he could ease out of her. Leaning over, he inhaled the flowery scent of her hair. He wrapped his arms round her trembling body, effectively letting her prop him up. Because standing upright unaided wasn’t gonna happen.

  ‘That was intense.’ He sank his face into the soft pillow of her hair, aware of the dragging ache in his gut from the turbocharged orgasm.

  Her head bobbed in agreement, but she didn’t say anything. With her lush butt pressed into his groin and her hair soft against his cheek, he could have stayed like that forever. The thought unnerved him so much he forced himself to stand, to pull out of her and let her go.

  Tearing off the used condom, he checked it with shaky fingers. Then sent up a silent prayer of thanks. It had to be some kind of a miracle the damn thing hadn’t burst. Plucking a tissue out of the dispenser on the sideboard, he wrapped the condom and dumped it in the trash.

  She rose from the couch, her long limbs as shaky as the new colts he’d once watched being born on his aunt’s horse farm in upstate New York. Then he spotted the red mark on her butt—and all the soft and fluffy thoughts fled.

  Goddamn, what the hell had he done? Had he actually slapped her on the ass?

  He touched a palm to her face. ‘You okay? I wasn’t too rough? I don’t know what the hell got into me.’

  Shame washed through him as she stared back, her eyes unfocussed, her skin flushed. He’d always been so damn careful with women. Made sure he kept his desires on lockdown. Della had once joked about his ‘battering ram,’ and not in a good way. He knew he was a big guy. Della wasn’t the only woman who had commented on it. So he knew to go slow, be gentle. Especially when he was doing it with someone he barely knew.

  But sex with Tally hadn’t been controlled, or careful, or gentle. It had been basic and raw and had just about blown his head off. Where the hell had that primal need to dominate and control come from? Had it been lurking inside him all this time?

  He’d wanted to make her fall apart, to drive her wild, and he hadn’t been afraid to show her the side of himself he usually kept hidden. And if that didn’t make him a heartless bastard, he didn’t know what did.

  Tally swept the glorious tumble of golden hair over her shoulder, giving him an unencumbered view of that spectacular rack—which had something hot and fluid stirring in his gut. To his astonishment, his exhausted cock twitched in recognition.

  Her lips curved, the sight as much of a tease as those rosy nipples pouting at him. ‘Well, I certainly know what got into me.’ Her gaze drifted down to his lengthening cock. ‘That is one fabulous dick you have there, Mr O’Neill.’

  A laugh burst out of his mouth, the wave of gratitude dissolving some of the tension, but none of the heat rising in his gut. The woman was something else, bold and brave and one heck of a smart-ass.

  Most women would have slapped him back by now, but she didn’t seem any the worse for wear. Far from it—she’d appeared to love it, had even spurred him on. If he was going to discover his bad side, he’d certainly found the perfect woman to do it with.

  Although he couldn’t help wondering why she was so bold. Because for all her bravado, he detected something fragile beneath. As if she were playing a role.

  ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he said, ignoring the prickle of curiosity. No need to go there. This was one night only. If he’d thought he might be ready to try out another relationship, tonight had set him straight on that score.

  She swayed and he grabbed her elbow. Her pulse punched his thumb. ‘You sure you’re okay?’ Maybe she wasn’t quite as unaffected as she was making out.

  ‘I’m wonderful, but I must have drunk that daiquiri too fast. It’s made me a little light-headed.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Seeing how she’d only taken a couple of sips of the cocktail, and that had been nearly an hour ago, he wasn’t buying the excuse. But he let it go, the tremble in her lips affecting him in a way he didn’t want to examine too closely.

  The fact that she hadn’t thrown a hissy fit—or threatened to call the cops—after getting smacked on the ass was all the result he needed.

  ‘Come here.’ He tugged her into his arms, not too bothered when she wedged her forearms against his chest. He massaged the tight muscles of her neck and shoulders, smiling when her eyelids drifted to half-mast. ‘How about we grab a shower and then give the bed a work-out? You want to make a night of it?’

  She leaned into his massaging fingers and let out a purr of approval that had
his cock perking right up. ‘I suppose I could be persuaded to stay the night.’ She draped her arms around his neck. ‘But you’ll have to feed me first.’

  ‘Deal.’ Clamping his hands on her butt, he boosted her into his arms. She hooked her legs around his waist, the smooth, toned thighs riding his hips not doing a thing to dampen his erection. She settled in for the walk down the hall, her full breasts bouncing against his chest.

  ‘But don’t forget you owe me one,’ he added, deciding to take advantage of the opportunity to tease her. ‘And I always collect.’

  Her eyebrow arched. ‘Owe you one what, exactly?’

  He carried her into the bathroom. ‘One blow job.’

  She batted her eyelashes. ‘I see.’ Her finger-nails played in the hair at his nape and the shiver of sensation surged down his spine to bloom in his nuts. ‘I guess a deal’s a deal. But fair warning, O’Neill. I happen to be the queen of BJs. So we better wait until we’re safely horizontal before I get my mouth on that magnificent cock.’

  He choked out a laugh, but the eagerness in her tone—and the thought of those full lips wrapped around his thrusting cock—made his knees weaken. When had he ever felt this good? He stumbled to a halt by the shower stall, taken aback by the dumb thought.

  She grasped his shoulders. ‘Bloody hell, don’t drop me.’

  He hefted her back into his arms. ‘Not a chance.’ He tightened his grip so he didn’t drop her on her butt while turning on the spray, the dumb thought forgotten.

  Water sprayed out of the shower head in a cascade of sound and steam. But before he could step into the cubicle, she grasped his cheeks and planted one on him. Their tongues danced and duelled as he let her take the lead, the steam rising around them in billowing waves of heat and pheromones.

  She came up for air first, her gaze as hot and steamy as the bathroom was becoming. ‘Your wish is my command, Brent. I want you to enjoy me tonight as much as I intend to enjoy you.’ She sounded genuine, sincere, the smart-ass edge gone. ‘No pressure, but you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in far too long. Sex-wise.’