Magnificent Bastard (12 page)

My dick, however, has enjoyed the walk down memory lane and is more ready to service Penny than ever.

The Incredible Bulk remains semi-erect all morning and when I see Penny standing on the Long Island Railroad platform, the last thing I want to do is tell her she’s going this alone. She’s wearing one of her new dresses—a knee-length brown spandex number with ruffled layers around the hem that emphasizes her curves, flashy gold earrings, and gold sandals that display her sexy little toes—and looks good enough to eat.

I’m working up a full-fledged hard-on even before I get close enough to see the gloss on her lips or smell the addictive scent of her perfume. The moment that light, lemon, sugar, and sea salt smell hits my nose I’m a goner.

“Hey, you made it!” She lifts an awkward hand, the anxiety in the gesture making it clear she isn’t sure what verdict I came to overnight.

Under normal circumstances, I would want to allay her fears as soon as possible, but thanks to Penny’s “time to think” mandate…I’ve had time to think. And I haven’t enjoyed it or the way it’s complicated what should have been a combustible, no-strings-attached fuck.

So instead of leaning down to whisper that I hope she isn’t wearing her favorite panties because I plan to rip them off of her as soon as we reach our private car, I greet her with a cool nod and motion toward the front of the train. “We’re one down from the dining car.”

“Oh, okay.” She falls in beside me, dragging her roller suitcase behind her. “Good morning.”

“For a few more minutes anyway.”

She clears her throat. “Good for a few more minutes? Or morning for a few more minutes?”

I smile, but keep my attention fixed on the platform ahead. “Morning for a few more minutes. Then it will be afternoon and we’ll be cleared to have a glass of champagne. A bottle comes complimentary with the private car.”

“You shouldn’t have,” she says, her voice brightening. “The sleeping cabins are so expensive. I’m fine with coach.”

“Good,” I say, still smiling. “Because I booked you a general boarding ticket as well. In case you decide you would rather not ride in my car.”

I’ve done nothing of the sort but hearing her say, “O-okay. Of course. If you would rather be alone,” in a way that makes it clear she’s no longer certain how her plan is going to pan out makes the lie worth it.

I like Penny, and I want Penny. I want her so badly that my cock is already straining the front of my dark wash jeans, making me grateful for the erection-concealing protection of my briefcase. But I’m not happy with the position she’s put me in. And I don’t care if it’s unprofessional and bastardly in a way that isn’t magnificent, I want to make her suffer through at least a few minutes of the torment I’ve endured for the past fifteen hours.

At the entrance to the sleeping car, where ten private luxury cabins have made train travel something to seriously contemplate again, a woman in an LIRR uniform, with a mass of blond hair coiled atop of her head, and wearing too much lip liner, takes our tickets.

And a few moments to check me out.

“Welcome, Mr. Prince. I’ll be your in-car concierge.” Her blue eyes track from my face to my where my white button down’s sleeves are folded up to reveal my forearms and back again. Penny, who has stopped by my elbow, she ignores. “Right this way. I’ve already got the champagne chilling in your cabin.”

“Thank you…” I drop my eyes to the nametag on her blazer, letting my gaze linger on her chest long enough to ensure that Penny will notice. “…Patrice. I’m sure you’ll help make the journey very comfortable.”

“Absolutely.” Patrice reaches out to squeeze my bicep before leading the way up the steps into the car and down a surprisingly wide hallway. “That’s what I’m here for! To make sure your journey is as smooth as possible. Each cabin is equipped with a concierge phone that comes straight to my cell so I’m always just a call away.”

Pausing before the second door to the left, she opens it with a suggestive smile. “Anything you need, anything at all, Mr. Prince, you just give me a call and I’ll be here in a jiff.”

“What might he need?” Penny asks sweetly as she shifts in front of me, demanding the other woman’s attention. “Other than the champagne that comes with the private car?”

Patrice glances down, her smile growing brittle around the edges. “Well, I deliver food from the dining car and drinks from the bar. I can also help arrange for transportation to meet you at the station or help you book excursions with our sister company that offers sunset wine tasting cruises around the island.”

“Oh, well that sounds great,” Penny says with a soft laugh and a self-conscious roll of her eyes. “For a second, I thought you might have been talking about sex. But I’ll be taking care of that.”

“Well n-no,” the concierge sputters. “Of course I wasn’t, I—”

“Of course you were, but seriously. I’m doing you a solid.” Penny’s eyes grow almost comically wide and I have to fight to hold back the laugh shoving up my throat. “He’s too much of a good thing if you know what I’m saying.” She holds her hands out, palms at least a foot apart, and mouths,
Huge. Seriously. Huge.

Before our concierge’s jaw can do more than jog up and down in shock, Penny has grabbed a fistful of my shirt and shot me a hard smile over her shoulder. “Shall we darling?”

“We shall,” I say, following her into the compartment.

The second the door closes behind us, I pull her into my arms, intent on showing her there’s no such thing as too much of a good thing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Our luggage goes flying, knocking the champagne bucket to the floor, but we don’t stop to pick it up.

I’ve already got Penny’s legs wrapped around my waist, holding her fine ass in one hand while I pull the foldaway bed out of the wall with the other. I could care less if there’s ice all over the floor and our champagne has rolled under one of the seats. I’m not worried about anything but how fast I can get my hands beneath Penny’s dress.

“Sure you don’t want me to go ride in general seating, Mr. Prince?” Penny asks, lips moving against mine as I lay her down on the bunk and lengthen myself on top of her. “So you and Patrice can get to know each other better?”

“Christ, no.” I kiss my way down her neck as I cup her breast through her dress. “All I want is your pussy all over my face.”

Her breath catches. “Really? That’s all?”

“And then your pussy all over my cock.” I pinch her nipple, drawing a gasp from her throat. “And then my cock deep inside you, fucking you until you realize what a mistake it was to leave my apartment last night.”

“If I didn’t know better, I would think you were mad at me.” She threads her fingers through my hair, stopping me before I can pull her dress down and get my teeth on her tight little nipple. “You aren’t, are you?”

“I’m not a fan of thinking.” I slide a hand up her thigh. “It makes me cranky.”

“I can see that,” she says, lashes fluttering as I cup her through her panties. “But that probably means that thinking was something you needed to do.”

“You’re hot, Miss Pickett,” I say, not in the mood to talk about thinking, either. Talking is overrated, especially when I’ve got a beautiful woman beneath me. My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I curl my hand tighter around her mound. “Hot and wet. I can feel you through these satin panties.”

“S-silk.” Her tongue sweeps across her lips. “They’re silk.”

I rub my finger back and forth across the fabric, teasing lightly over her clit. “That they are. My apologies.”

“Bash?” she asks, eyes going wider. “Are we really going to do this?”

“Unless you tell me to stop, then yes, Penny, we’re really going to do this.” Fingertip still teasing her through her panties, I continue in a voice soft enough not to be heard outside in the hall, “First, I’m going to pull these very nice panties to one side and fuck you with my fingers.”

She swallows, her throat working as her chest rises and falls faster.

“I’m going to get you wetter than you’ve ever been in your life,” I continue, “make you so hot and desperate for my cock that you’re begging me to fuck you. And then, if I’m in a merciful frame of mind and not in the mood to torture you a little more, I will rip these very nice panties down your legs and fuck you until you scream.”

Her lips part, but I cut her off before she can speak.

“And you will scream.” I thumb her clit harder until her eyes dilate and her hips begin to pulse against me of their own accord. “You won’t care that there are people on either side of us who might hear you. You won’t even remember that they’re there. All you’re going to remember is that no one has ever fucked you as well or as thoroughly as I’m fucking you.”

“Shit.” Her brow furrows as she shakes her head gently back and forth. “You’re too good at that.”

“I’m even better at this,” I say, taking her lack of protest as implied permission. Drawing her panties to one side with my thumb, I slide two fingers inside her.

“Oh God,” she says, eyes fluttering closed as I push in to the first knuckle.

Fuck, she feels amazing. She’s wet, hot, and clearly aroused, but she’s also insanely tight, so tight that the thought of being inside her makes my head explode a little. It’s going to be incredible, so incredible I don’t want to wait. But I will. A pussy this tight is going to need some warming up before it’s ready for what I’m packing below the belt. No matter how irritated I was with Penny last night, the last thing I want to do is cause her any real pain.

When we’re in bed together, the only pain she’ll experience will come from delayed satisfaction, from pleasure so intense it’s just this side of unbearable.

“I hardly slept last night,” I say, capturing her lips for a kiss as I continue to fuck her with my hand. “All I could think about was getting you wet and under me.”

“I dreamed about you all night.” Her hands slide down my back, caressing me through my shirt. “About your hands and your mouth.”

“Was my mouth doing anything like this?” I bring my attention to her breast, using my teeth to pull the spandex of her dress and the bra beneath down, baring one dusty pink nipple. I hum my appreciation for its beauty, its hardness, its sweetly puckered tip, before taking her into my mouth.

“Yes.” Penny gasps as I begin to suckle her with deep rhythmic pulls as my fingers mimic the tempo between her legs and my thumb glides back and forth across her clit. “Oh yes, you were. Oh my God, Bash. Oh my God!”

I would smile against her breast, but that would interfere with my suction and clearly it’s doing the job. She’s no longer stiff or shy beneath me. She’s bucking into my hand, clawing at my shoulders, writhing on the bunk until just as the train lurches into motion and the whistle goes off so does Penny.

“Yes!” She cries out as her pussy throbs around my fingers, her wetness flowing out to coat the back of my hand. “Oh God, yes. Yes!”

Yes, indeed. Fuck me, she’s so hot like this, out of her head with lust and singing my praises loud enough that there’s little doubt our neighbors have a good idea of what’s going on in our car. My cock is hard enough to pack gunpowder and my balls are aching like I’ve been sucker-punched, but I’m not ready to put an end to my suffering yet, not until I’ve made her go again.

A minute later, I’ve got Penny’s dress shoved up around her hips and her panties pulled down to dangle around one ankle. I hitch one of her legs over my shoulder as I shift onto the floor beside the bunk. And there, from my knees, an appropriately worshipful position, I bear witness to the sweetest pussy I’ve ever seen. The dark pink lips of her sex are swollen with desire, plump petals that provide a lightly curled frame for the well of wetness between them. And above her pussy, her clit stands at attention, a pretty pink button just begging for me to lick, tease, suck, bite. To do all those wicked things I do so well because I fucking love to eat pussy.

I do. I love it.

Some men don’t, I hear.

I don’t understand these men. They are alien to me in the same way people who think ice cream is gross or people who don’t exercise because they don’t like to sweat are alien. Ice cream is godly, a hard sweat is the only thing that comes close to a hard fuck in terms of pure bliss-level, and eating pussy is a little piece of heaven. A sweet, salty, slick, scrumptious slice of heaven, and I can already tell Penny is going to be off-the-charts delicious.

“Bash,” she whispers, shuddering lightly beneath my palms. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is perfect,” I say, not moving my gaze from the paradise between her legs. “Better than perfect. I’m just having a moment with your beautiful pussy. I think I’m in love with her. She’s…stunning.”

Her breath rushes out. “The look on your face right now might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Not for long.” I glance up at her, holding her gaze as I spread her thighs wider, bringing my mouth close enough for her to feel my breath warming her aroused flesh, and inhale. Immediately her scent makes my mouth water. It’s light and fruity, like mango slices sprinkled with salt, with an undercurrent of waterfall rushing over slick rocks and exotic flowers blooming in an undiscovered corner of an ancient rainforest.

Yes, I get that precise when describing the way a woman smells. I am a connoisseur of poose, and I can detect the top, heart, and base notes of a particular pussy in ten seconds flat.