Читать книгу The Dare Collection: April 2018 - Stefanie London - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

HARLEY HOISTED HER dress to mid-thigh and clambered astride his lap to continue the frantic, almost desperate kisses that had begun the moment the car’s doors closed. She couldn’t get enough of the chemistry that arced between them. It was as if she’d been living under water, everything dull and muted. This...lust...flared hotter than anything she’d ever known.

Combustive. Addictive. Uncontrollable.

And in this moment, she’d never wanted anything more than to pick up where they’d left off this afternoon in Jack’s apartment.

She reached between them, rubbing him through his pants until he groaned into her mouth and bared his teeth on a hiss. It wasn’t enough. She craved him naked, every inch of his magnificent body hers to explore. She yearned for him sweaty and determined above her, pushing her over the edge as she instinctively knew he could.

She didn’t give a damn about his driver, or the passing traffic. She’d had a brief taste this afternoon and she wanted more. More of what he offered. Just sex. The amazing, sheet-clawing kind.

When he’d suggested a ride home, she’d reasoned that accepting provided an opportunity to try one last time to convince him to push through the sale of the Morris Building. But honesty won. She wanted him. Plain and simple. And she wanted the orgasms he promised. Why shouldn’t she take what she could get? A fling she could walk away from, hopefully clutching the Morris contract in her hand.

They weren’t kids any more, clearly both capable of separating sex from the rest of their lives. And right now business, their pasts, their families, were the last things on her mind. A mind full to capacity with this sexy, grown-up Jack, his mouth, the rumble of his deep voice, the hard body under her exploring fingertips.

Kissing him was like kissing two different people—the teenager she’d once swooned over and the man he’d become. Familiar and foreign. Larger than life. Sexier than her wildest imaginings—more demanding, more intuitive, more everything. When combined with the hint of forbidden...she hovered close to orgasm just from kissing him alone.

The journey to her Fifth Avenue apartment was blessedly short. Just like when they were teens, Jack applied the brakes more than once during the ride, literally removing her hand from his underwear and slowing things down, where she would have ridden him in the back seat, onlookers be damned.

The touching, kissing and groping continued into her building and twice she dropped the electronic key card to her private elevator in her haste to get him upstairs and get him naked. To continue this clandestine connection behind closed doors.

Once inside the deserted car, he pressed up behind her, his erection slotted between her buttocks shooting tingles up her spine. His hand swept her hair aside, and his lips found the back of her neck, nibbling.

‘Do you live alone?’ His voice, thick with arousal, scraped over her nerve endings, speaking directly to her clit. She could barely stand upright.

When he held her hips still in his large hands, pressing himself home, she twisted her head over her shoulder to capture his mouth.

‘Yes.’

Her older brother, Ash, lived in the apartment above, but she didn’t want to stop kissing him long enough to explain that unnecessary detail.

As the elevator ascended Jack once more shimmied her dress up her thighs to her waist, his hands trailing fire along the bare skin he exposed. He reached for her hands, lifting them and curling her fingers over the brass handrail at waist height. ‘Hold on.’

She had no time to luxuriate in the thrill pounding through her at his command or what it meant. Jack dropped to his knees behind her, nudging her legs apart and kissing first one cheek of her ass in an open-mouthed caress and then the other. The scrape of his teeth skittered down the backs of her thighs and weakened her knees.

What was he doing to her? Why was she such a willing accomplice? Her breath stalled in her lungs, and she clung to the rail with enough force to ruin her manicure. But it was worth it.

With a shuffle and a sexy grunt, he manoeuvred her hips backwards so she bent over at the waist, her ass in the air. Jack slid the thong of her underwear aside and plunged his tongue inside her quivering sex.

Her cry joined his throaty groan. His fingers curled around her hips and his stubble grazed the sensitive skin between her legs. She clung to the handrail as the sensations assailed her. Jack’s raw hunger and the carnal urgency with which he took what he wanted sent thrill after thrill trickling along her spine.

Jack slipped one hand between her thighs, rubbing at her clit while he continued to plunge his tongue inside, sending jolts of fire to her toes.

She sank deeper into the sensual haze, uncaring of where she was, every nerve in her body focussed on the havoc Jack wreaked between her legs.

With a judder she couldn’t be sure originated outside her body, the elevator stopped. Harley opened her heavy eyes. The polished brass of the car’s wall reflected her image. Wanton, dishevelled, lust-drunk. There was no hiding the effect he had on her or the abandon he’d effortlessly instilled. Abandon that left her willing to partake in public sexual acts. Twice in one day.

His mouth left her and her knees wobbled. He slid her dress down and took her hand. Within seconds, they were inside her darkened apartment. A single lamp shone on the table just inside the entrance.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Jack, leaving her side long enough to carefully place the designer lamp on the floor.

Hormones pounded Harley, fogging her mind. ‘Why?’ Had he changed his mind? And why was he shifting the light fitting?

His mouth covered hers once more, tongue delving as his hands tugged the dress back up. He broke free, a fierce look on his face. Harsh need. A thrilling wildness.

‘Because the first time’s going to be right here.’ He indicated the table and a fresh wave of moisture slicked her panties. He shucked his jacket, tossing it to the floor, working his belt free with one hand while he scooped the other around her waist and kissed the breath from her.

Harley’s lust-addled mind caught up with dizzying euphoria, and she couldn’t help him quickly enough, dropping her purse and lifting the dress all the way up and overhead. An ominous tearing sound accompanied her efforts, but she tossed the garment without ceremony, desperate now to have Jack inside her. No more skirting around. The hard length of him through his clothing...she wanted him. Now.

‘Fuck.’ He paused to cup one breast through the lace of her bra, his thumb tracing the nipple as his eyes devoured every inch of skin. Then she was airborne, Jack’s hands splayed around her waist lifting her onto her antique hall table.

They were wild for each other. Her hands fumbling alongside his to free his erection, her lips clinging to his, tongues duelling and her thighs holding him captive. She’d get what she wanted this time. No more unfinished business.

With a grunt, he tore his mouth from hers, pulling his wallet from his pocket, locating a condom and tossing the rest over his shoulder. He tore into the foil with his teeth, sheathing himself while his hot stare toured her splayed-out body clothed only in scanty black lace and four inch heels.

Harley worked on his shirt buttons, ignoring the mild discomfort of being perched on the table, desperate to see more of him. To touch every inch of him. To feel the spring of his chest hair on her face and the taut ridges of muscle under her fingers.

She’d barely pushed the fabric over the rounded contours of his ripped shoulders exposing his well-defined pecs and a glimpse of rigid abs when he circled his arm around her hips and tugged her ass to the edge of the table. Clearly Jack was as close to his limit as she was.

‘This needs to go.’ He tugged at the filmy black thong, scraping it down her thighs with impatience and a look of fierce concentration on his handsome face. Halfway down her legs he stopped dead, his mouth grim but eyes hot.

Harley stopped breathing. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Please don’t let him change his mind; leave her hanging here on the edge of ecstasy.

But he simply stared between her legs, his jaw clenched and his nostrils wide, breathing hard.

‘Fuck, you’re beautiful.’ He traced the narrow strip of blond hair until his fingertip rested on top of her clit, his greedy stare drinking her in while she fought the urge to squirm and close her legs.

She’d never been so thoroughly inspected. So devoured. Warmth spread from her belly, burning beneath his motionless fingertip and snaking a tingling path along her thighs.

‘Later, I’m going to eat at you for hours.’ He lifted his eyes to hers, so intense, so full of carnal promise. Just like his words. ‘But now, I need to get inside you.’

She nodded. Speech impossible. Totally down with that plan. Grown up Jack was hot as hell and she longed to go up in flames.

The finger on her clit began a slow rhythmic stroke. Harley whimpered, her head falling back against the wall and her eyes fluttering closed. She snapped them back open again when he stepped closer, widening his feet and spreading her thighs with his.

‘Stay with me, Harley. Look at me.’ He continued to stroke her clit as he notched the head of his cock into her entrance.

She’d never been so open before, her previous sexual encounters rather robotic and perfunctory. But Jack completely commanded her body and wheedled his way into her mind, saying exactly the right thing to banish any awkwardness and make her hotter, more desperate, closer to the edge.

She gripped his waist. They were really doing this. Her breathing turned choppy. Short bursts of air that did little to quench the burn in her lungs or the buzz in her head.

Jack’s jaw bulged, his hot eyes locked with hers as he pushed inside, one slow, delicious inch at a time. She battled the desire to close her eyes, fighting the immense pleasure he kindled, attacked from all angles. Her thighs gripped his in a feeble attempt to control so much stimulation—stretched from the inside, her sensitive nerves petted outside by his clever fingers, the pulse of endorphins from his eye contact flooding her bloodstream. She was embarrassingly close. And he’d yet to move. She bit down on her lip, staying the waves of delirium, savouring the seconds, the sight of Jack half naked, face taut with the pleasure of being inside her.

‘Yes,’ he hissed, flaring his nostrils and fluttering the pad of his finger over her clit in light swipes. He licked his lips, eyes raking over her body. ‘Pull down the cups of the bra.’ He gripped her hips in his large hands, a move that both pinned her to the edge of the table and pulled her towards his steady, shallow thrusts.

She obeyed, her hands clumsy in her haste to do anything he asked. Because she knew she’d reap the rewards. Already this was better than anything she’d ever experienced. She didn’t consider herself a prude, but she was far from an adventurous lover. But the way Jack made her feel, effortlessly drawing out the hidden exhibitionist she hadn’t known was inside her...she’d become a veritable nympho for the orgasms he promised.

With her breasts pushed up over the cups of lace, she lost his eyes. He groaned. Then his stare slammed open, his lids heavy as he gazed at the tight peaks of her breasts. He leaned forward over her, lowering his mouth, which couldn’t quite reach due to the awkward angle of her unconventional sprawl on the furniture.

‘Help me.’ Frantic eyes darted between her face and her nipple. ‘I want to taste you.’

‘Yes... Oh, yes.’ She cupped her breast, lifting it to his hot mouth. Her cry stuck in her throat as he lashed the aching peak with strong swipes of his tongue.

Then he began muttering in French, words garbled around the flesh filling his mouth, his hips still rattling the table against the wall and his finger still stroking a sublime pulse over her clit.

She’d never mastered his native language, had no idea what he said, but it didn’t matter. The look on his face told her all she needed to know. He was there, with her, climbing this euphoric peak. And he could have been reciting a grocery list—the foreign language naturally sensual. Or perhaps it was just Jack and the way his sinful mouth caressed the sultry words.

When he released her breast, new determination shone in his eyes. He jerked his chin, voice gruff. ‘Touch them. Don’t stop. I’ve got you.’ He gripped her hip tighter, fingertips flexing.

Perhaps he meant he wouldn’t let her fall from her perch on the table. Perhaps he meant he’d take care of her orgasm, they’d take care of it together. But she had no time to ponder. She followed his instructions, embracing the libidinous woman he unleashed, all self-consciousness forgotten.

She let go of the edge of the table and used both hands to stroke her tingling nipples to attention. The more his eyes darkened to pools of molten metal, the faster she strummed, releasing her cries and moans unhindered.

Jack grunted a sound of approval, his hips picking up speed and his finger pressing down on her clit with greater pressure.

Harley whimpered, losing the battle to keep her eyes on his. The table banged the wall as he pummelled her again and again. She locked her ankles behind his thighs, holding him captive, drawing him closer.

When she opened her eyes again, his stare burned her breasts. ‘Tweak them, Harley, as firm as you like it.’

Her teeth clamped down on a wail as she listened, pinching and rolling her tortured nipples until her blood sang, a direct path to her clit.

‘Yes.’ Another hiss. ‘You’re swelling up.’

How could he tell? And yet it seemed he was correct, because he thickened or she tightened, the friction between them building in intensity. ‘You’re going to come soon. Look at me.’

Every command, every bitten-out order should have irked her, but had the opposite effect. Because his words were more like prophesies. And he was spot on. Her nipples ached. Her sex grew slicker, tighter around his shuttling cock. Tendrils of fire shot out over her belly and thighs from beneath his working finger and as she opened her eyes to the unbridled lust burning in Jack’s stare the lightning struck.

‘Jack.’ Her throat closed on his name as her orgasm hit, firing every nerve in her body. She clung to him—her eyes, her legs, her sanity latching onto the source of such overwhelming pleasure like a lifeline.

He gripped her tighter, his fingertips punishing. She didn’t care. She still pulsed around him. Wave after wave of euphoria. He’d lifted his finger from her oversensitive clit, but continued to softly stroke her belly, her thighs and her buttocks, intensifying the aftershocks that rattled her from head to toe.

But there was no time to recover. His pace picked up once more. Harley clung. Sweat beaded his brow as his jaw muscles bunched and his hips lost some of their smooth rhythm.

He looked down at her, his fervid stare darting over her breasts then swooping down to where they were joined until he gorged his fill.

His face twisted as he met her stare. ‘I want to make you come again...’ He shook his head, his chest heaving.

Harley gasped, all the reaction her boneless body could muster. ‘I can’t.’

He nodded. A flash of regret. ‘You will. Next time.’

Was he seriously lamenting his stamina after the single most erotic sexual experience of her life? She had no time to comment. He hammered into her, his hips jerking erratically and one hand trailing a hot, possessive path over her breasts and down her belly.

His shout, when he came, echoed off the walls. He collapsed forwards, every muscle taut as he pumped into her and kissed her through the last of the pulses racking his body.

Reality returned. The edge of the table dug into her butt and although he wasn’t placing all his weight on her, his arms braced beside her hips, and she struggled to breathe.

She brushed her lips over his ear, enjoying the tickle of his hair on the end of her nose.

‘Next time?’ She stifled a delighted, if a little girlish, giggle. Wow. She doubted she’d be able to walk after that performance. But already she looked forward to the promised next time.

He groaned into the side of her neck, his scruff scratchy, no doubt leaving its mark on her skin. ‘Give me ten minutes.’ He disengaged from her and helped her down from the table.

The narrow space between them widened. Harley pulled up the cups of her bra, wishing she’d chosen a less sheer design, and yanked up her panties, which were tangled around one ankle.

He stood in her entranceway, his urbane clothing rumpled and dishevelled, his softening cock still wrapped in latex and his clear blue eyes still touching on her near naked body with impressive hunger, considering the wall-banging session that had just taken place.

Harley reached for her purse and handed him a tissue.

What now? Invite him in? Offer him a drink? Suggest he stay the night?

The chill of the dark apartment infected her, and she sought her likely ruined dress while Jack tucked himself back inside his pants.

‘There’s a washroom there.’ She indicated a door to the right, grateful for the few seconds of reprieve while he disposed of the condom.

He opened the door and flicked on the light. While Jack binned the evidence of their coupling and washed his hands, Harley dived for her dress, holding it in front of her nakedness in a ludicrous display of modesty that left her cheeks hot.

She’d just come like a supernova around him, touched herself in front of him, allowed him to fuck her on an antique table she’d inherited from her grandfather. Now she back-pedalled?

Jack returned, scooping his wallet from the floor and pocketing it before reaching for her hand. He made no comment on the dress shield, slanting her a crooked grin as he tugged her closer and swiped his mouth over hers with surprising ardour.

She opened her mouth, her tongue sliding over his. Her arm came around his neck, the dress barrier forgotten as she indulged in another of those drugging kisses.

‘Harls? You home?’ A disembodied voice blasted from the intercom next to the entrance door.

Harley jumped away from Jack, her eyes wide and her heart hammering in her throat. She darted to the intercom, pressing the button to speak to her brother.

‘Yes.’ Harley winced, clutching her dress with one hand, her temples with the other. She turned her back on Jack, head bowed. Why hadn’t she just ignored Ash? Her back burned and she clenched her butt, hoping the heels she still wore presented her ass to its best advantage.

‘You alone?’ said Ash. They often got together late at night, sharing a nightcap and tales of their day.

Damn. What could she say? No, I’ve just fucked the enemy on Pop’s antique table... If she told the truth, tomorrow she’d have her brother here for breakfast on a fact-finding mission. And then she’d have to confess she’d messed up the Morris deal, too. Another dose of humiliation.

‘Yes, of course.’ Shoulders high, she scrunched her eyes closed, the lie raising the stab of a thousand pinpricks over her exposed skin. She could practically feel the chagrin pound her back in waves. Or perhaps it came from within.

‘Pour me one. I’ll be down in two.’ The ominous silence from the intercom started a deafening countdown. Harley turned to face Jack, an apology bubbling up in her throat.

He’d already donned his jacket and buttoned his shirt, his face blank.

She clutched her dress tighter, holding it to her sides with rigid arms.

‘I...’ What could she say?

I didn’t want my brother to know I just had the best sex of my life with Joe Lane’s son.

Manhattan was small enough. With a little digging, Ash would easily discover Jack was the head of Demont Designs. That he’d re-entered her life. Crashed back in, bells, whistles and horns blazing more like.

Jack stepped closer, one finger brushing the hair from her cheek.

‘Bonsoir, Harley.’ His hand dropped to his side, and he slipped the other hand into his pants pocket, a casual move that reassured her and irked her at the same time.

She swayed towards him, her eyes begging him with words she couldn’t articulate.

He stepped aside, turning at the door. ‘You’d better look in the mirror—you look well fucked...a look I personally like, but one I doubt your brother will appreciate.’

With those parting words and a blank expression, he left.