Читать книгу Making Him Want It - Renee Luke - Страница 7

Jamal shut his eyes and slanted his face toward the sky, fighting damn hard to maintain control. The fine–ass hottie swirled her tongue around the swollen ridge of his head. He couldn’t breathe. He gasped, air hissing between his teeth.

Opening his eyes, he lowered his gaze to the top of her head, bent level with his crotch. Her expressive brandy eyes glanced up at him, a smile faltered on her lips just before she went to work. A talent for sure, she held up his dick and licked down the underside until she reached his balls.

She licked there, too. Jamal felt his knees tremble as her tongue traveled across his sac, her gift with her mouth almost unbearable. Then, she retraced her damp path to his head and nibbled, all the while her soft hands rested on each of his thighs.

“Mmhmm, that’s what they say,” Jamal muttered. He could hardly form a rational thought, but knew he wanted to be inside her. He tilted his hips toward her. “Can…you…take it?”

Tempting fate. Much more of this and he’d be shooting his load down her throat before he even got to encase himself fully in her. He wanted to sex her, but with her mouth titillating his flesh like a champ, he’d take it any way he could get it. Right now between her lips.

“Can you?” she asked. Again she didn’t wait for his response. She opened wide and closed around him, taking him so deep into her mouth he could feel his cock press against her tonsils. A wickedly slow tempo she set, in and out.

With his fingers tightening into her silken hair, Jamal glared at her tiny purse praying it was big enough to hold at least one damn condom. He hadn’t packed one around in his wallet for years, since events like this weren’t an everyday occurrence. Had hell frozen over? He planned booty–calls, not back alley screws with strangers. She’s not a stranger anymore, he thought, watching her head bob up and down, taking him deeper with each of her strokes. Pulling him along until he felt the building climax.

She tightened her cheeks and sucked. A hand slipped from his thigh to his sac. Her palm gave a tender massage as she gave him the blow of a lifetime. She took him deeper, still, until he felt his shaft pressing against the roof of her mouth.

“Damn, girl,” he groaned out.

The honey paused, releasing him from her mouth slightly. Before he could complain, she’d taken him in again, finding a rhythm equal to the dance music pulsating through the brick walls of The Night Kitty.

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before he felt the telltale buck of his impending orgasm. He pushed it away. No way in hell he was going to get his nut off before he’d made her scream with pleasure.

Jamal let out a long, low moan as he placed his hands on her shoulders and eased her mouth off his erection. She whimpered slightly, releasing him completely. He heard her gulp for air, then she rose.

She kept perfect balance in her spiky heels, a satisfied smirk marring her pouty lush lips as she stood before him. She knew she’d been about to get him off, and he could tell by the sparkling passion in her eyes she was damn proud of it.

His hands had fallen limply to his sides. They both just stood there, looking at each other. Sizing one another up. There was a hint of vulnerability in her sexy stance. Jamal balled his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.

He wanted to touch her. To feel the weight of her tits in his palm. To rub the hard tips of her russet nipples that strained against the black lace of her bra. To use his tongue and return the favor of the blowjob.

In bad shape, his erection ached and pulsed with unreleased desire. But she’d demanded control before, and he intended to honor her request. He’d wait for her to make the next move despite feeling as desperate as if it were his first time.

“Touch me,” she demanded, licking her bottom lip. She moaned and Jamal knew she could taste him.

Not needing to be told twice, with one hand he grabbed her by the waist and dragged her forward until his solid cock pressed between them. Using a free hand, he framed her face, his palm upon her jaw, his long fingers extending into her soft hair. With his thumb, he traced her bottom lip where seconds before her tongue had been. The gleam in her eyes told him she wanted to be kissed, but the look vanished and he halted before his lips made contact.

“No, kissing is intimate. Kissing is for lovemaking, we’re just going to fuck. A plain old, hardcore, don’t ask my name, don’t call me in the morning, a one–night stand—fuck!” Her tone was so seductive.

He could handle that. He wanted to be inside her. Oh, yeah, his cock affirmed.

No, no, no. Kat shook her head, trying to forget the tender stroke of his thumb on her mouth and the sensual way his lips curved when he’d been about to kiss her. Kat wanted to kiss, to love, but Kat was retired for the night. The new her had taken the lead. She moved her head from side to side and smiled. “None of that. Just do me.”

He didn’t need much urging. His hold around her waist slipped down to the backs to her thighs, to the thin line of exposed flesh above the tops of her leather boots and the bottom of her suede mini. He lifted her, spreading her legs until he wrapped them around his hips so her ankles crossed atop the curve of his finely shaped butt. Her silver spiked heels tapped together.

“You just want to fuck.” It wasn’t a question. He wasted no time turning her so her back was against the cold, hard wall of bricks. Just like Kat had wanted. She repressed a laugh and settled for a smile. Laughing would have destroyed the intense mood and she liked this guy brooding. Yeah, ten thick, dark, hard, inches of aggressive cock was just what this sex–starved kitten wanted.

Meow. “Can you take it?” she asked, tossing his earlier tease back at him.

“You got a condom?” His voice was gruff.

Kat smiled as she reached for the small purse that hung from a narrow strap on one shoulder. She’d brought what they needed. Pulling a foil square from her purse, she ripped it open, yanking the latex free.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “let me put it on for you.” His muscles bunched as he held her weight, leaning away from the wall just enough so she could work the condom down the rigid length of him that rose like a statue between them.

With unsteady fingers, she extended the latex around him, his hips grinding into her. His dick, stiff between them, rubbed vigorously against her clit. She trembled. The old Kat tried to create a mental picture of what they must look like against the wall. This was research after all and if she got so carried away that she couldn’t remember, what good would it have done her? Besides pleasure, of course, she thought with a grin. Using her mind’s eye, she saw his wide shoulders draped with silk. His bare tight ass and pants pooled around his ankles.

Like an out–of–body experience, she could see her high–heeled shoes. Her suede skirt bunched around her waist and her sopping wet t–back, black lacy panties. Wet enough to get her juices on his cock that was tucked against her. Yep, she’d better be able to write this. It was the new material she’d been searching for.

With the bashful Kat making an appearance, doubt started to form. What was she doing? Her heartbeat quickened. Shaking off her unease, she pulled the new Kat out, full of confidence and—hiss—sassy cat. Relaxing into his embrace, she urged him on.

Mr. Gorgeous ground his hips again, wedging his erection between Kat’s lips but not yet entering. Damn panties. She should have gone without. What had she been thinking? Apparently she hadn’t been, because with the cloth in the way, how was she going to get him inside her? Now!

He solved the problem easily enough, reinforcing what she already knew. She was out of her mind with lust. He slid one hand beneath her butt, found the line of cloth, and yanked it to the side. Far enough to the side so the panties moved sufficiently for him to get inside her.

Kat couldn’t help the little whimper she made when he eased away from her. Far enough to put ten inches between them. Ten inches that disappeared when he slammed into her.

“Yeeessss!” she cried out. Her body stretched to make room for him. But he didn’t stay—damn him. He slid out, taking the hard length of his dick in his hand and rubbing his silken head around her vagina, first easing the lips open, then finding the button of her clit. He pushed against it several times. What the hell? Was he trying to make her cum before she’d even had a good hard fucking?

“Inside me.”

He didn’t answer, just kept up his slow torment to her clit until she knew she was going to cum. There was heat everywhere; her body felt like bursting, her fiery skin was so tight. And then his swollen head probed her clit one more time and a bolt of hot light caused her to shatter. The convulsions of climax made her pussy quiver, then her entire body succumbed to the tremors, leaving Kat out of breath and dizzy. No one had ever brought about such a quick orgasm.

He must have known a woman’s body pretty damn well because he waited a few moments—for her to enjoy it—before he plunged in. He was inside of her so deep his mat of pubic hair ground into her manicured triangle. Kat was surprised she could take a cock as big as his. She could feel him everywhere. The tips of her toes rejoiced. Her nipples became so tight they hurt and only a warm damp tongue could help them. Poor things. Not this time, maybe the next, she mused, already thinking she was going to have to do this again.

Once he got started he didn’t quit. Oh, yeah, baby, he was hitting his stride. His strokes lengthened, each time slipping out a little farther, then driving hard into her again. The new sexy Kat was enjoying the ride.

Jamal pushed inside her again, hardly able to think while he was buried in heaven. What the hell was he doing again? In the alley with a stranger? But with passion pushing all the right buttons, he couldn’t have walked away had he wanted to. Her pussy gripped him, unwilling to let him go. He surged in. Retreated. Surged in. Ground his hips. Retreated. Again and again and again and again, until a dusting of sweat arose across his brow.

Trying to get a grip on his out of control restraint, he tried to back off. To slow down. A rush of heat started where he was joined with her. He fought for breath in the sultry night air. A liquid current stole over him like a wildfire to dry grass, causing ripples of flame to cover every spot on his body.

He hadn’t noticed the biting sting of her nails when they dug into the flesh of his shoulder; not until the hottie withdrew her claws. She moved her seductive fingertips up his neck, then higher so she could glide her palms over his shaved head. “Yeah, I like them both,” she whispered.

Her bedroom voice built the tension in his body. His muscles bunched, straining, working as he pumped into her. And when the tension reached crescendo, he knew he was about to cum. He wanted this honey to join him.

Slipping a hand between them, Jamal found her clit with his fingers. She was wet for him, his thumb swirling in her cropped, black hair. To hell with holding back. He needed it all now. Grinding into her wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

Orgasm hit fast and intense. She trembled around him, whimpering sweetly. On his final surge, her lush lips opened, letting out a husky cry. His body shook and he grunted a primal sound from the back of his throat. He climaxed. Biting back his holler of victory in fear of discovery, he buried his face in the curve of her neck. The feminine scent of her smooth skin mixed with the heady odor of sex and latex. Each of her little pants and moans sent a shimmering of warm air across his sweat–dampened skin.

It took Kat awhile to catch her breath and to keep the blush of shame from crossing her cheeks. She didn’t urge him away but took comfort in his half–hard cock inside her. In his nearness. Her body sated, conservative Kat was returning. But it wasn’t regret she was feeling, more like confusion.

What happened to her? Was it the dirty dancing in the club? The sensual hum of the bass? Having the power of freedom to take a man of her choosing? And, she’d wanted this stud all right. She could feel him getting hard again; the longer they remained locked together. She could do him some more, all right. But run the risk of forgetting the details she needed to write her next piece? Not! Her deadline was looming and that, after all, was what this escapade was about.

Putting her hands on his chest, she gave a little shove. He backed away, his dick sliding from her sex. The creamy liquid droplets lingered white against his dark brown skin and black pubic hair. Evidence of her arousal and climax. Unable to resist, she swirled one finger into it, then in a light glide, slid down his semi–hard cock.

She hitched her hip to the side. “Thanks, I needed that,” Kat said, shaking off her insecurities and calling upon the façade she’d created for the evening.

The gleam of his white teeth cut through the darkness. She liked his smile. Her heart skittered. She pretended his grin had no effect on her.

Liar.

“You all right?” he asked, bending to gather his pants and drag them up over his hips.

Oh, yeah, men’s macho crap that they can fuck anything that walks and has a pussy but women are too soft–hearted. Too bad in this case, it was hitting the nail on the head. It could take her weeks to recover, to get her emotions in check. Kat gulped, then forced what she hoped was a sexy smile. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged but remained silent as he zipped, buttoned, then buckled up. “Women just tend to feel a little funny…after.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. If his skin hadn’t been so rich and dark she would’ve sworn he blushed.

“Don’t worry about me. I got just what I wanted.” Kat’s eyes studied his handsome features.

Unexpectedly, he reached out and tweaked her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re made for sex.”

Thinking of her job and all the research, she silently agreed. Most people thought that if you sold sex for money you were a prostitute. She laughed at the idea. Don’t they know better? Don’t they know their spouses were reading what she wrote to get their ideas? They ought to. She bit her bottom lip to suppress a grin.

“I know,” she said, thinking of all the men who’d be getting off on reading her fictional account of tonight.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Thanks, but no. I’ve got to go.” She didn’t wait around. She couldn’t or she might take him up on his offer, just to get to know him better.

Gathering her deflated pluck, she decided walking away was the best thing to do. She didn’t want to think about good–bye kisses or other awkward bullshit. Shifting her hips so the fall of the mini would look natural, she sauntered down the alley toward the front street, her spiked heels clicking a beat to each step.

“What’s your name?” he called after her.

She paused. A moment passed. She’d gotten just what she’d come for, but something about him made her want to answer. Like saying nothing would have cheapened the wonder of what had just happened. “Not this time, Baby,” Kat tossed over her shoulder. It was no lie. Not this time, but if she were ever lucky enough to meet up with this fine piece of chocolate again, she’d do more than share her name.

Shy Kat regained control while her newer persona scratched her way into a hole. She couldn’t give him her real name, despite the arrival of compunction, the nudging of shame. Kat Mason writes relationship columns for the Sunday paper, she doesn’t do strangers, she doesn’t write porn.

Keep telling yourself that, sistah. Pausing mid stride, she looked back at the gorgeous man, the inspiration for the sexing–him–good article she was about to write.

She kept walking. With his scent on her skin, the taste of him on her lips, Kat swiped a tear from her cheek. She couldn’t believe she’d done this.

“How will I find you again?” he shouted, his voice echoing off the brick walls. There was a note of sincerity in his tone that panged in her heart.

She didn’t stop, but turned the corner and walked out of sight, pretending she hadn’t heard him. A few more lingered moments and he’d have seen her knees wobble and more liquid fall from her eyes. Part of her wanted nothing more than to see this stranger again, to know him.

But getting to know him would only reveal her as the shy, quiet, sit–in–her–sweats all day writer. Not the brazen woman she’d been tonight. He’d be disappointed. Better to leave him with the memory of the hot chick than to learn the fantasy wasn’t real.