G-Men: The Series (98 page)

I sat at the fancy, cherry-wood desk in the foyer and scribbled down names, dates, locations and sexual positions (the ones I could recall). Finally finished, thoroughly embarrassed, and majorly sexually frustrated, I stood up and found Easton on the sofa, his laptop perched on his lap.

“Finished?” he asked impassively, not bothering to look up from his keyboard.

He expects me to hand over details of my prior sex life? Umm…yeah, no!

“Yep, got your golden ticket right here,” I said, making no move to hand it over to him as he finally looked up at me.

I firmly put on my best poker face. “But here’s the thing,” I told him. “I still don’t understand why it is you need this, really. Once I hand this over…What? Are we in a relationship? Or fuck-buddies, maybe? And if that’s the case, I really don’t know how I feel about that, especially seeing as I haven’t gotten a chance to sample the goods.”

His lips twitched again. “‘Sample the goods’, love?” he asked in that sexy low voice of his.

“Yeah,” I affirmed. “You know, test out the waters to see if I even
want
to have a sexual relationship with you. I mean, Lacee was your personal assistant, right? She was on your payroll, basically. Meaning: you theoretically had to
pay
her to…well…
assist
you,” I could feel my cheeks start to heat up as I fumbled up that last statement. I noticed he was doing that quirking-up-his-brow thing again as I now had his full attention.

“Anyway,” I quickly continued on, “what I’m saying is, before I hand over my sexual history, I want to have a test-run.” God, he was raising
both
eyebrows now. “To see if you meet my standards.”

Meet my standards? Oh yeah, I was so hanging myself with my own rope now.

I felt as if I needed to remind myself to breathe after I made my point to him. It sounded way more powerful then it felt. I watched his reaction as he deliberated; an unfathomable expression passed over his face, his eyes almost glinted but I wasn’t sure if it was with anger, anticipation or something else altogether.

Easton set his laptop aside and rose from the sofa, coming to stand before me. A hint of a smile graced his lips.

“Come, then,” he said softly, an almost dangerous edge to his tone. Taking my hand, he led me from the living room to the suite’s master bedroom.

The massive, wrought iron bed in Easton’s suite had already been turned down for the evening. He gently placed me on the bed, facing him as his hands expertly lifted my sweater up over my head. He unhooked my bra, pulling it from me and dropping it to the floor. His hands gently caressed my breasts, his thumbs bringing my nipples to quick attention. I watched as he slid his jeans down, noticing he was commando as his thick, long cock sprang free.

In its hardened state, it rose up, resting well past his navel. Not only that, he had a fucking piercing on the head of his dick. A Prince Albert, Prince William—whatever the fuck it was called! I’d never dealt with piercings like
that
before…and the fact that Easton had a piercing
there
surprised the hell out of me. I gasped audibly at the size of it.

He must’ve seen the look of surprise on my face (and okay, I’m sure there was a good dose of excitement there too) because the grin that was there before quickly made itself into a smirk.

“It’s too bad you wanted to use your sexual history to barter with, Nicole,” he said, stroking himself, which only brought more attention to his pierced cock. “I think you would’ve enjoyed feeling me unsheathed.”

Well played, Easton…Well played.

The bastard was teasing me, but I damn well wasn’t going to give in so quickly. I had…
bigger
things to worry about.

“Easton—I’m not sure if this is going to work,” I squeaked, mentally chastising myself at being a coward all of a sudden. Had the men in my sexual repertoire all been “needle dicks?” No, it wasn’t possible; five-plus guys who, for the most part, seemed average or above, but this—this was something beyond average.

“Hush,” he murmured, slipping my skirt off of me, hooking his thumbs into the elastic waistband of my thong, and sliding it down past my feet. “You and I’ll make it work. Trust me?”

I nodded affirmatively; what choice did I have?

Go big, or go home, right? No pun intended.

He raised me up off of the bed and placed me gently on my back, my head resting comfortably on the mass of satin covered pillows. I watched as his head dipped to my core, kissing my very sensitive skin tenderly.

“This is what I was thinking about while we were having our pictures today; about how your pussy would taste,” he whispered harshly.

I never realized how much a handful of words could turn me on, but
damn
, this man knew how to use them. I relaxed against the satin sheets as Easton began a slow, pleasurable trail with his tongue, twirling and nipping at the soft folds of my sex. His tongue worked magic as it explored each and every fold with determination and expertise. My hips gyrated as he suckled gently on my swollen clit. I moaned as my body responded to him like no one before. I felt his teeth, ever so gently, nibble on the hood surrounding this engorged bundle of nerve endings, feeling pleasure seep through my entire body.

“Easton, please,” I said, breathing heavily, no longer concerned about the length or girth of his cock. “I want you inside of me,” I gasped.

“Be patient.”

He slipped a finger into my now well-lubricated pussy, and then another, exploring me with a purpose. My legs were now wrapped around his back, as he continued the gentle probing inside, searching for that special spot. I squirmed a bit as he hovered at my apex, his lips still working my pussy, the pads of his fingers now focused on the spot deep within me. He moaned as he continued flexing his fingers, delivering intermittent pressure on the area inside of me with his fingertips.

“Oh God!” I screamed, my hips now moving furiously in response. He slowed his rhythm, pulling his fingers out and I thought I would die.

What??

“No baby,” he replied, “Not yet. I want to enter you from behind.”

Oh God! I don’t do anal…

He must’ve read my look of alarm as he chuckled softly. “I didn’t mean
that
,” he clarified. “I promise you, this will be alright.”

He lifted me up, positioning me in front of him on my hands and knees. His hands started again, massaging my ass, as I could feel myself once again craving his fulfillment. I felt his lips graze my back and my butt, his fingers resuming the pleasurable stroking of my clit. He stopped momentarily and I heard the sound of the condom packet being ripped open. It only took a few seconds for him to sheath his impressive cock. I wondered if I’d be able to feel his piercing with the condom covering it.

Easton’s attention, along with his hands and lips were back on me.

“That’s my girl,” he said softly. “Such a beautiful ass and such a hungry pussy, too.”

I felt the head of his cock as it teased the outside of my slit. His fingers were still probing my G-Spot which was, once again, engorged as I arched my back instinctively, wanting to receive his shaft deeply. He entered me slowly. I felt his hard, fullness as he continued, his hand guiding his erection more fully into me.

“How does that feel, love? Huh? Are you ready to take it all?”

“Umm, yes,” I whimpered, my hips now rotating at the pleasure that was spreading through my body. I could feel myself expand for him as he thrust himself deeper inside, his moan of pleasure was enough to make me come right then, but I fought back. I wanted more of this.

He then quickly flexed his hips, forcing himself all the way in as I cried out. He continued pulling out and plunging in and it was pure ecstasy with each and every stroke.

“God, I need it harder,” I groaned.

Did I really just say that?!

He obliged, backing out and slamming back into me, the ridge around the head of his cock rubbing my sweet spot over and over again until I thought I’d explode.

“Fuck, your pussy’s a gripper,” he said, moaning and thrusting over and over. I could feel my muscles tightening around his girth, not wanting to release him.

“You’re going to milk me dry, love,” he rasped, his hands now planted firmly on my hips as he rocked in and out of me. He reached a hand around front, his fingers finding my neglected clit. He massaged it between his fingers, bringing me to the crest of complete, carnal pleasure.

“I need to come,” I gasped. “Make me come now, please?”

He buried himself deeply and rocked his hips back and forth causing repeated stroking of my sweet spot, while his fingers pressed a bit harder on my clit.

I…was…coming…apart.

I felt myself squeeze his shaft as the pleasurable contractions released, milking him with a vengeance as he moaned my first name over and over again. He shuddered and I felt the stillness before the storm as the throbbing of his erection released his explosive climax within me. My clitoral orgasm peaked at that moment as I cried out his name, biting my lip and tasting blood but feeling nothing but pleasure over and over again.

When we were able to catch our breath, Easton was still inside of me. He grasped me to him, pulling me up against him, his warm lips kissing the back of my neck as his fingers moved my hair aside. I shivered against him, my post-O skin very sensitive.

“Cold?”

I managed to shake my head. Lining my body with his behind me, I said in a slightly hoarse voice, “I want more.”

^{chapter 12}

I rolled over in bed, the top sheet tangled around my legs, preventing me from seeing the clock on the nightstand. I reached down, untangling it and noticed I was in bed alone. The digital clock read 5:34 a.m. I was still naked beneath the sheets. Where in the hell was Easton?

I’d only been asleep for a couple of hours, but I hadn’t heard or felt him leave the bed. Probably because, true to his promise, he’d worn my ass out. My God!…
The delicious things
that man had done to me.
And there wasn’t a shadow of doubt in my mind that Easton was one of those hands-on men, which I was starting to realize, may just be my favorite kind.

I’d never been in so many different positions! I’d mentally thanked my mother for forcing those three years of gymnastic lessons on me during my adolescence. I definitely wasn’t complaining, though. I could literally say that I’d never been so thoroughly fucked…and fucked
well,
I’d like to add.

There hadn’t been much talking between the two of us once he’d led me out of the suite’s living room and into his bedroom. Well, I mean other than the dirty sex talk and moaning from the both of us. Easton just might’ve spoiled me for others. Still, when we finally reached exhaustion, it was evident Easton wasn’t one to spoon or cuddle as we fell asleep. That was fine by me. This was a purely physical adventure and he was free to make the rules, as long as I continued getting the mind-blowing O’s. I seriously felt a blush coming on as I recalled some of the things he’d done to me…the instructions he’d given me, and the discipline when I hadn’t complied in the manner to which he expected. Enough of the blushing, I needed my morning java.

Shit! Is this where I should just get dressed and go?

I scrambled up and out of his bed, instantly feeling shockwaves of pain from the vicinity of my ass. It was my own damn fault. I was snatching the various items of my clothing up from the floor and pulling them on. I contemplated leaving him a note, but what the hell would I write?

Thanks for the great fuckfest? You’d better not have left bruises—LOL? Where’d you get those rocking handcuffs?

Nope. A note wasn’t going to be left by me. It wouldn’t be appropriate under the circumstances. He hadn’t bothered to leave a note for me. Hell, for all I knew, he might’ve checked out already. Doubtful. All his shit was still tossed about the room. Besides, Darcy Nicole Sheridan had rocked his world every bit as much in that bed last night as he’d rocked mine. To hell with social graces, I thought, searching for my boots. Once I’d pulled them on, I grabbed my handbag, noticing the folded up piece of paper I’d stuck in there with my sexual history written down on it.

I pulled it out and placed it on the nightstand next to his bed. There. I wasn’t completely remiss about social graces.

I hurried out of his suite to the elevator. All I could think about was getting home and spending the rest of the day curled up in my nice, soft bed.

As soon as I slid the card key into my hotel room door, I was startled to see a very pissed-off-and-not-trying-to-hide-it Eli, his arms folded, glaring at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said right away. “I meant to call you.”

He blew out a hard breath. “Do you realize you worried the shit out of me? I thought you might be lying in some dumpster somewhere. I haven’t slept all fucking night!”

“Oh for crying out loud, you knew where I was and what I was up to.”

“Not to mention the fact that I’ve been blowing your phone up, too. I was getting ready to go up and bang on the door of his fancy suite.”