Heat Exchange (The Alpha Billionaire's Virgin Book 1) (12 page)

She broke off at the sudden tingle of pleasure between her legs. Cupping her hands over her eyes to keep them from looking, she struggled to identify it. He'd touched her, she realized belatedly, between the lips of her cleft.

"Nyall," she whispered, "if you do stuff like that I won't be able to concentrate."

"That's the game," he said softly. "Try."

"There's a box of cinnamon graham crackers," she said. "Put all the graham crackers into the gallon plastic bag on—" Janey drew in a breath. Something was sliding back and forth over her clit. It was long and blunt. The sensation was so delicious she gasped.

Waiting for it to stop proved futile. The caress kept happening. Janey realized she was going to have to go on while her clit was being stroked with something hard—his finger, she was almost positive.

"On the counter on the island," she choked out. "Seal up the bag and put it on the counter and…and take the rolling pin and roll it back and forth over the bag using all your weight to press it down until…Nyall…"

"I'm getting this," he said, even as the stroking continued. "You're being very thorough. That's good thinking, since I'm just a beginner."

"Until everything is crushed."

The rhythm changed and now her clit was being circled and the folds around it delicately massaged. That did it; Janey needed a break. Her palms were still blindfolding her eyes because otherwise she'd have to open them and watch what he was doing to her. Her body was responding not just to how he was touching her but to what she knew, or thought, was coming.

Suddenly the touch was withdrawn and Janey sighed in relief and disappointment. Only to again suck in her breath when she felt cool air wash across her intimate folds and realized he'd parted them with his fingers. She waited nervously.

Nothing more happened. Quivering and flushed, she went on.

"When the graham crackers are down to tiny little crumbs, pour them into the springform pan. Sprinkle on a couple of tablespoonfuls of sugar. Take the stick of butter and cut it off at the two tablespoon mark. Put the two tablespoons in the saucepan on the stove. Turn the heat to—oh, God."

Janey's pussy lips were still being held open, but now something slithered between them. It stroked slickly down the middle of her sex. A burst of sweetness traveled from her pussy down her thighs and along the nerve endings in her back. And another. And another…

"Low," her voice croaked out. "Watch it very…carefully because you don't want it to burn while it…melts…oh, help, I can't…"

Not being able to see what was happening, Janey could only use her imagination and she had a pretty good imagination. Her brain steered completely off its culinary course. In her mind's eye, she could see his head at the level of her hips, the backs of his hands resting on her thighs as his fingers held her sex open and between them…between them…

There was a slurping sound and then his voice came huskily. "What do I do after the butter's melted, Janey?"

She shook her head because she couldn't go on. Not when that insidious curling pressure glided into her folds and stole her ability to formulate thoughts. Over and over, in an easy rhythm, came the warm, wonderful slinking sensation in her pussy, like something was giving it a playful bath…

But then it stopped. Air chilled her wet flesh and she heard as well as felt the draft. Blowing. He was blowing on her.

"You need to talk in order to get your reward, Janey," he reminded her.

She knew she was squirming. "You pour it over the graham cracker crumbs," she whispered. "And then mix the butter and the crumbs and sugar with a fork until all the,
ah
, all the crumbs are moistened,
ahhhh
."

She heard the rumble of his muffled laughter but it didn't penetrate far, since her world was pretty much down to what was happening between her legs.

He was licking her. He had to be. And just knowing it and feeling it and not being able to see it made her wild.

The touch eased away and she felt his soft kisses on her thigh. "Don't you want your reward?" he asked.

Janey decided she
needed
her reward. Like in the elevator, excitement brought enough sharpness to her mind that she was able to achieve the bare minimum of focus necessary.

"Pat down…" Since there was currently no contact at her most vulnerable spot, just little nibbles on the skin of her hip, she rushed on hurriedly. "Okay, so pat down the crumbs until they're tight in the pan. Check that the oven has preheated. Pour the bowl of cream cheese mix into the pan over the crumbs. Use the rubber spatula to get all of it. Fill it no higher than one inch from the top. Um…"

"You're doing great," he said and darted his tongue into her navel.

"Put it in the oven on the top rack. Set the timer to twenty minutes. Um…after the timer goes off, turn the oven down to 275. Set the timer for another two hours. Whatever you do, don't open the oven door. When those two hours are done, turn off the oven and leave the cheesecake in there for another hour. Then it's done. And I'm done."

She flushed, knowing her eagerness was showing through.

"You did great. I think I got all of that. Just one question. Where's the sugar and how do I measure it into tablespoonfulls? Don't open your eyes yet," he added.

"Oh!" Her loins were so tight she couldn't keep her feet still. "It's, ah, I think I put it on the table. It's in a glass canister marked sugar. The measuring spoons are somewhere on the counter. The tablespoon measure is the largest but one and it says one capital tee on it. Just scoop that into the sugar and level it off with the back of a straight knife."

"That was awesome, Janey. Now you get your reward. You can open your eyes."

Her hands fell away from her face and she stared down at him. He was still down there in front of her, his head tilted and his eyes gazing up at her face, their brown irises dark and smoky.

"God, you're sweet," he said. ""Ready?"

She nodded. "Please," she said. "It hurts."

"I know, baby." He slid his hand between her legs and trailed one finger through her pussy until it reached her entrance. Slowly, watching her face all the while, he eased one finger inside her, then another. And then, while she stood there trying not to fall due to the ecstasy of being filled where she so desperately needed it, a third finger squeezed inside.

"
Nyall
."

"You're fuller than you've ever been," he murmured. "Does it feel good?"

She didn't know what to do or say.

"We're not done with our game yet," he said tenderly. "This is just the first level. For your reward, I'm going to lick your pussy with my fingers inside you like this. Then we'll move onto the next level. There's an even better reward after that. All right?"

First level?

Next
level?

"Help," she said. "I don't know what to do."

"Just stand there quietly while I suck on your clit. You taste fantastic, Janey."

While she watched, dazed and overheated and unbearably aroused, he stuck his face between her thighs and did exactly what he'd promised. While his tongue and mouth tugged repeatedly on her budding flesh, his fingers twisted deep inside her.

Janey didn't know how she stood it. How she stood
upright
. Knees shaking but somehow remaining vertical while her clit found a home between his tongue and palate and within her passage, his wonderful fingers turned….

All she knew was that when he eased away and rose to his feet, letting go of her completely, she felt horribly empty at the huge loss. Her knees almost gave out. He caught her, kissed her mouth and backed her up against the counter.

"Did you taste yourself?" he asked when he finally released her mouth, the mild words belied by his urgent tone. She could feel his cock stabbing into her abdomen through his jeans.

"Y-yes."

"I know you wanted to come," he said. "You will, real soon. If you do a good job on this next level."

She wriggled her arms around him and tried to press even closer to him. "I'm so turned on," she said wretchedly. "I don't think I can play anymore."

"Are you going to use your safe word?" he panted, rotating his hips against her.

"Safe word?" she said dumbly. "I can't remember the word."

"You can just say 'safe word.'"

"Oh, God. If I do, what happens?'

"Whatever you want," he promised. "But it won't be as nice as if you keep playing. This is supposed to be fun, Janey. If it helps, I'm hurting twice as much as you are. This isn't as easy as it looks. You're fucking beautiful."

She shuddered. "I want you inside me again."

"You'll get it. You took three fingers. You're still killer tight, but you're almost ready to take my cock."

"Okay," she said. "I'll play."

"Great." He cupped her breasts, squeezed gently. "What you have to do is easy, baby. Just sit on the table. I'm going to clear a space for you. Sit there and watch me while I follow your instructions. Make sure I'm not missing any steps."

"That's all?'

"Basically. While you're sitting, though, play with your tits. Use your fingers to fondle your nipples. You do that without stopping and then you'll get your reward."

Janey was suspicious this time so she made sure to specify. "And that would be an orgasm?"

"Mm, yes."

She wriggled a little. "Okay."

He tilted up her chin, kissed her mouth, withdrew, and smiled at her affectionately.

Then, with surprising efficiency he cleared the table, transferring everything to a countertop. When it was bare, Janey jumped on the table, the surface cool and smooth under her thighs. To her amazement, Nyall remembered everything. Like he had some kind of photographic memory, he followed her instructions flawlessly. It was actually pretty impressive.

So, reluctantly, she followed
his
instructions.

The first part was easy. She sat on the table with her legs pressed tightly together, just watching him do stuff. Merely the eye candy aspect alone turned out to be super hot. Nyall moved smoothly, even sexily amidst the functional surfaces and appliances—what Janey thought of as
her
territory, even though it was his house. The khaki t-shirt clung to his chest with just the right amount of drape, begging to be lifted up to reveal all that yummy hard flesh of his abdomen. The jeans were equally casual and fit his butt perfectly and his straining crotch not so well. He was lip-licking tasty and she couldn't imagine being more tempted if he
were
to go around nude.

The second part wasn't so easy—touching her own breasts. It was awkward at first putting her hands up to her breasts in front of him. He stopped what he was doing whenever he caught sight of her handling herself and grinned. Deciding to defend her feeling of vulnerability with sass, she stuck out her tongue at him.

Soon, though, Janey forgot her self-consciousness and lost herself to the feelings. The strokes of her own fingers on the tips of her breasts sent sizzling arrows of heat again and again straight to her sex, which was already overexcited from what he'd done before. Adding nipple stimulation made it all worse.

When she couldn't stand the intensity anymore, her fingers moved in circles around her nipples. Before long she couldn't stand that either and she started plucking the tips, pulling them out and flinging her head around because the ache between her legs was so bad.

"You're doing fine, but don't forget to watch me, Janey."

His words startled her. She sat upright and blushed hotly. He was carrying the springform pan and looked so delectable walking across the kitchen floor that the hurting between her legs got abruptly much worse.

He chuckled and opened the oven door.

With the sound of the timer's beeps, Janey's body went on red alert and her pulse rate revved up. She shifted eagerly as she watched him approach.

"Four hundred fifty degrees," he intoned.

"Are we done now?" Her hands went motionless.

"What's that?" he said languidly and rested his hands on her shoulders.

"With the game? Can I stop touching myself?"
And have my orgasm now
, was her unspoken question.

"Mm, not yet. Let's wait for the timer to go off. Twenty minutes more, then I change the temperature and set the timer again. Then we'll say you've reached the second level."

"It's the last level, right?" she said in a panic.

"Yes. It'll be reward time. By the way, you're cute when you pet your own tits, Janey."

"Oh."

He took one of her hands off of its breast. "Feel what it does to me."

Janey leaned forward and reached down to touch the front of his jeans. At the feel of his pole-rigid flesh behind the denim, Janey's loins pulled tight and she circled her palm enthusiastically. Nyall groaned, stepping quickly back.

"Lie down, sweetheart."

Shaking with anticipation, Janey eased herself back until she was lying supine on the hard table. He walked around and slid something soft under her head. A folded-up towel, she realized vaguely. "Rub your tits," he prompted.

Her palms felt like fire scorching her breasts. "Please, Nyall."

He went to the foot of the table and firmly eased her legs apart. Only then did she realize how much relief she'd been getting from pressing them together, because now she couldn't stop writhing.

"You are so going to like your orgasm," he said. "In fifteen minutes."

"I can't take this," she wailed.

"Yes you can, because you're not saying avocado. Remember the elevator. Think about sitting on a bus and waiting for the driver to reach your bus stop." He sat down on a chair and shoved it to the foot of the table, then grasped her ankles and pulled her slowly closer to the edge.

"Please touch me," she said.

"Okay. But first pinch your nipples. Both of them at the same time. Hard."

She obeyed without thinking, then bit her lip and whimpered at the effect it had on her.

"I can see your clit peeking out of your pussy. Your pussy's really divine, by the way. Very shiny and lickable." His breath was there at her sex and Janey's hands clenched on her breasts to try to relieve the ache. "Do you know anything about the clitoris, Janey?"