Bad Girl by Night (17 page)

When Jake tugged at her panties, she lifted, let him pull them down. Like always when she knew she was going to have sex, she’d shaved herself there, but she almost felt a little embarrassed now by the rawness of it, by how very on display it put her.

As if reading her mind, Jake rasped, “I love that you’re so bare here. Excites the hell out of me.”

And apparently
that
excited the hell out of
her
since the very spot he spoke of tingled at his words. And did so even more when he gently grazed the soft, pale flesh there with his fingertips.

Finally, he parted her legs—and she let him. He gazed down on her open slit, just as he had on the night they’d met. Things had ended up seeming weirdly intimate with him that night—but
this
,
this
was intimate.
Sharing yourself with a man you know is so much more powerful than sharing yourself with a stranger.

When he began to stroke his fingers down through her pink folds, she let out a whimper. And when he smoothly slid his fingers inside her, a short cry escaped her throat. Shock. Pleasure. Welcome invasion.

As he lowered his mouth to the juncture of her thighs, she bit her lip, shut her eyes, sank into the blinding lust of it all.
Yes, yes,
it felt so good! He thrust those fingers firmly into her wetness, over and over, as he licked the swollen nub above. Throaty cries escaped her—at some point, without thought, she lifted one leg, balancing her ankle on the back of the sofa, giving him even easier access. And she began to absently clutch at her own breasts—as Desiree would, because they needed some attention, too, and because she knew it turned guys on.

Even when she realized it, she didn’t stop—she squeezed them in her hands, tenderly pinched her nipples. She wondered if he was watching, if he liked it. And that gave her the courage to finally open her eyes.

Jake
wasn’t
watching her—at the moment, his eyes were closed and he looked completely entranced and hot as hell. She soon found herself reaching down with both hands, running her fingers through his thick hair, and almost pulling him closer, pressing his face into her wet crotch. She looked at herself—sprawled there in the light of her apartment, with her sexy pink bra lifting her breasts high and her flowered panties strewn on the coffee table—and she realized: This particular lingerie, in this particular place, was
so
not Desiree. And it
was
so truly her. This was
her
,
Carly
, having her pussy eaten by a man, getting into it completely, being open and excited and naughty—and it was good.

I can do this. I
am
doing this.
A burst of elation rushed through her. And the awareness, the acceptance, came with a fresh surge of arousal that made his every lick hotter, made every sensation stretch more wildly through her body. “Oh God,” she heard herself murmur as the pleasure rose. “Oh . . .” And then it reached that peak, that point of no return, when she knew orgasm was imminent, just a few heartbeats away, and she clenched her teeth, made fists in Jake’s hair—and tumbled into the hot abyss of ecstasy, moaning, sobbing, and then biting her lip, trying to quiet herself, vaguely aware that anyone passing by on the street outside might hear through the open window.

But she didn’t let that part worry her much—she was too in the moment, and too into Jake Lockhart and the glorious pleasure he’d just brought washing over her. And she wasn’t pretending to be anyone else.

Her eyes had fallen shut again at some climactic point, and when she opened them she was almost a little embarrassed to find herself still spread for him, his face wet with her juices as he looked up at her. But then he cast her a sexy grin, eyes shaded with masculine pride as he asked, “How was that, honey?”

“Good,” she breathed. Which seemed like an understatement given what she’d just experienced, but she was weak, and she had a feeling the expression on her face told him everything she couldn’t right now.
You’re changing me. Changing what I’m capable of. How I can see myself. You’re making it all better.

Slowly, Jake pushed to his feet, his look edging from pride back into hunger as he let his hand drift to his erection, stroking it lightly in a way that excited her to the very tips of her fingers and toes. And then he leaned near, his cock still in hand, and his voice came in a low rasp as he asked, “Can I put it in your mouth, baby?”

C
arly drew a gulp of air into her lungs. She wanted to just say yes. God knew she wanted to suck him, pleasure him. She wanted to be the same bold girl who’d just come for him so hard. But for some reason she hesitated—and just as quickly realized that maybe it was the position. She was lying down. And it would give him so much power—and her so little. If it had been her suggestion, it would have felt different, but she knew that somehow it would be easier if . . . “Um, let me . . .”
Let me what?
She sat upright, then instructed him, “Lie down.”

He didn’t argue and, in fact, seemed totally cool with that, simply lying back at the opposite end of the couch from her. She watched him, admiring his cock, so big and upright, and almost immediately, her breasts began to ache and her pussy to yearn.

Positioning herself on her hands and knees between his legs, she reached out, wrapped her fist around his erection, then lowered her lips over it. And . . . mmm, just like the night they’d met, having him in her mouth fulfilled her in a way going down on a guy never had before. At the time, she’d thought it had to do with having both him and Colt inside her at the same time, but now she was forced to realize this went deeper. Maybe it was just the strong chemistry between them—who knew?—but whatever the case, she felt just as hungry for it now, just as satisfied to have that part of him in her mouth, just as satisfied to take him as deeply as she could and to know how much enjoyment it brought him.

“Aw, aw . . . baby, yeah,” he murmured. “That’s so damn good. So damn good.”

His deep voice fueled her, his delight creating still more of it for
her
.

“Aw, honey—look up at me while you do that. Let me look in your eyes.”

She’d done that in Traverse City, too—she’d even taken dirty delight in imagining how obscene she appeared to him. Now she responded, meeting his gaze as he filled her mouth, but it was so raw—hot, but
too
raw—that she looked back down again, even closed her eyes again.

Above, Jake just groaned his pleasure and told her she was beautiful, and within a few seconds, she’d forgotten how brazen it had felt to peer up at him that way and she refocused on her own pleasure, at how primed her body felt as she delivered her hot, generous ministrations, at how strangely pleasing it was to work over him this way, to feel that hardest part of him within her soft lips and the tender confines of her mouth. It all made her suck him more vigorously—it made her want more of him in every way.

So when finally her mouth tired, she released him but instantly lowered her breasts over that magnificent erection. She still wore her bra, but the plump inner curves arced from the tight fabric to blanket him, wrapping softly around his hard length.

“Oh God, that’s so hot, honey,” Jake growled. “God, yeah—fuck me with those gorgeous tits.”

And though the briefest hint of a familiar revulsion swirled to life inside her, mostly his dirty talk heightened her pleasure, made her feel alive and desirable and excited. And then he sat up a little, just enough to strain, to reach over her back and unhook her bra until it fell away, off her shoulders, off her breasts, making her feel all the more intimate with him given what they were doing right now. She hugged the soft mounds of flesh around his cock as he slid it between them, all the while telling her she was beautiful and amazing.

Having at last lost most of her inhibitions, she followed the urge to lean over and lick the tip of his erection again, even as it lay nestled between her tits—she licked the pre-come away looking into his eyes; she ran her lips around the head as he whispered still more hot words of encouragement. Again, pleasure had overcome those old bad feelings, and again she was getting a wonderfully naughty taste of the woman she could really be. With Jake anyway.

Finally, her lover rasped, “I want inside you now. I want to fuck you. Let me have you, Carly.”

And like before, it stunned her a bit to be called Carly—but not as much as it had the first time. And she moved quickly past it because she was ready for this, so ready for it, all of it.

They both sat up then, Carly on her knees, Jake with his legs still parted around her. Pulling her to him until they’d resituated and she straddled his thighs, he asked, “Do you want me to wear a condom?”

She let out a soft breath. Then whispered, “No. I mean, since we’ve determined that we’re both . . . you know. And because . . .”
Say it. Just say what you mean.
“I want to feel you, really
feel
you. With nothing in between us.”

He nodded shortly, looking almost weakened with passion. “I want that, too, baby.”

Glancing down at his cock, she felt frantic to have it inside her, and so she lifted, took his erection in her hand, balanced herself on the tip.

“Slow,” he told her. She wasn’t sure why—maybe he sensed how hungry she was for him. And frankly, going slow was the last thing on her mind right now—since they’d already
gone
slow and now she was ready for fast. So she simply remained still, not quite sure how to react.

That was when he put his hands on her hips and ever-so-gradually impaled her on that rigid shaft.

“Ohhhh.” The word came deeply, from her gut, with the prolonged entry that resonated to her very core. She bit her lip, feeling somehow more full with him than ever before.

And then he began to move, to set a pace for them, and just as he’d promised, it was slow, lingering, a rhythm that forced her to feel every inch of every stroke, every inch of every protracted slide of his thick cock against her slick inner walls.

Her very breathing slowed in response—but came labored and shaky, too. She looked into his eyes naturally as they moved together—suddenly, now, it didn’t occur to her to look anywhere else. His gaze drifted to her lips, sometimes to her breasts, but it always came back to her face, and when his amazingly slow thrusts reached their deepest point, that was when the pleasure was deepest, too—that was when low moans erupted from her throat.

They moved that way for a long while, no words between them—no words
necessary
—until finally she whispered, “I’ve never . . . had sex . . . like this before.”

Like hers, his breath was audible, filling the space between their words. “Like what?”

“So . . . slow.”

Still they maintained that tempo. His hands gripped her hips so that it wasn’t quite the same as her riding him—he was fucking her, sliding all the way in and all the way back out at a pace he set, orchestrated. His breath still came heavy. “Do you like it?”

She nodded, but felt as if all the blood had drained from her face due to the depths he was reaching inside her, due to the utter intensity of it all. When she spoke, her voice was as breathy as before. “I . . . like it . . . the other ways, too . . . but this is . . . pretty amazing.”

“I know.”

Somehow her pleasure was intensifying—not in her clit, but deep within her. “I feel . . . every inch of you. I mean . . . really feel it. Deep. Sliding.”

“I feel . . . every inch of you, too. So tight on me. So fucking wet. So fucking perfect.”

“Fuck me,” she whispered, peering needfully into his eyes, trembling with the reality that she could really do this, really say these things.

“Oh baby, I am . . . I am. I’m fucking you so deep . . . filling you up so much.”

“Yes,” she breathed. That was all. Just yes.

“Lean back,” he told her. “Just a little.”

She didn’t know why he requested that, but she did so without question, holding on to his shoulders, and he further instructed, “Try to . . . tilt your pelvis. Try to . . . flatten it a little, as if you were . . . flattening it against my thighs.”

Again, she didn’t question him, even if what he asked took more thought than she was in the mood for right now. She tried to do what he’d said, tilting, situating her ass against him in such a way that her lower abdomen lay more flat than upright, putting more actual space between their torsos.

And then he pressed one palm firmly against her there, on her belly, just above where their bodies met, and she asked, “What are you—?”

“Shhh. Shhh—just feel it.”

She quieted. And . . . felt it. Oh. Ohhhh.

She began to understand as the strange pleasure filled her. It was familiar but new, a deepening of the sensation a woman got when a man was inside her. And she remembered then that he’d touched her this way back in Traverse City, too, but only his fingers had been inside her then. That had felt good, different, powerful—but this was . . . more. She met his gaze as the strange, engulfing pleasure spread inside her. What . . . ? What was . . . ? But she couldn’t even form questions. She just bit her lip and began to moan.

Her head dropped back. And the sensation spread outward—almost infinitely, she thought. It seemed so simple, and yet she’d never experienced anything like it before. Wild sex, hard sex, fast sex—she’d had all of that and loved it, but now, this agonizingly slow, simple sex was taking her to unforeseen heights of pleasure that echoed through her whole body.

Soon her moans turned to low sobs. Thought left her completely. All that existed was sensation and response. It was as if her body had been electrified from the inside out. Like the similar touches on the night they’d met, this wasn’t orgasmic exactly—it wasn’t going to make her come—yet it was a deep, permeating pleasure buffeting her entire body, making her feel as if her whole being was getting thoroughly, deeply fucked.