Misconduct (Hot Ice series Book 6) (11 page)

Dustin pushed through the water as though it wasn’t there. I
hung on to him limpet-style, and began to breathe again as the cold subsided
from my ass and I saw the waves grow smaller.

But when we were out of the water completely, I became aware
of how inappropriate it was that I was literally wrapped around his body and
suctioned onto him worse than any octopus could.

He stopped with his hand still on my ass. “Is that better?”

“Yes, thanks.” I swallowed. Being pressed against him was
not good for that once-only plan we had. His wet flesh was like rain-soaked
concrete. His shoulders glistened, the seawater like morning dew. It didn’t
help that I was only wearing a small bikini and that there was only the
thinnest bit of fabric between my pussy and his stomach.

“You gonna let me go now?” he asked, one side of his mouth
lifting in a smile. “Or are you planning on staying like this all day?”

“No, of course not.” I unhooked my ankles and slid down him.

But I didn’t step away or unlock my arms from around his
neck. I couldn’t, he was holding me tight and up close against him.

His smile dropped. He shook his head a little. “I wouldn’t
have let anything hurt you.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” He frowned.

“Yes, you chased down that mugger yesterday.”

He nodded. “I guess I did.” He slid his hands up my back,
cupped my cheeks and threaded his fingers into the hair around my ears.

I stared at the scar on his lip. Wondered what he was going
to do next. Wondered what
I
was going to do next. Neither of us could do
what I wanted to happen. That was against our rules. We’d set them out clearly
enough the evening before. We’d got each other out of our system. That box was
ticked.

“I wish you’d told me,” he said with a frown.

“About what?”

“About the financial problems the Vipers have and
that
was my contract issue, not that you hated my guts.”

“I don’t hate your guts.” I paused. “But what would it have
changed if you’d known about the team’s money, or lack of money?”

He swallowed, his nostrils flared and then he lowered his
head. “In New York, outside your hotel room.” He licked his lips, breathed out.
“I would have understood, and when I just couldn’t fucking stop myself from
kissing you, it would have been like this.”

He closed his eyes and touched his mouth to mine, holding my
head secure as he gently, slowly, eased the tip of his tongue between my lips,
sought my tongue and set up a sultry dance.

I released his neck, curled my hands around his forearms and
felt as if I was floating. The stroke of his tongue was dreamy, the movement of
his mouth was making my knees weak. I would never have thought a guy built like
an ogre could kiss with such tenderness, such delicate attention to every tiny
whispering touch of his lips.

When he eventually pulled back, I gasped for breath. The
same way I had when he’d ravaged me.

He was breathing a little fast too.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You can slap me now if you
want.”

“I don’t want to slap you,” I managed. “And don’t apologize,
just kiss me like that again.”

He smiled briefly and then did just that, capturing my lips
in a kiss that was so much more than a meeting of mouths. It admitted that we
couldn’t fight this desperate need for each other anymore. We’d surrendered to
it. The white flag was waving even if just for the here-and-now on Honeysuckle
Key. We had to be together, like two souls who’d been searching, two bodies,
two halves. This was meant to be.

He spread the kiss from my mouth to my cheek, tipped my head
and explored the patch of skin just below my right ear.

I shivered as desire wound through me. The way he held my
face, as though he owned me, sent new darts of excitement whipping through my
soul.

“I felt it the minute I saw you, sweet cheeks,” he murmured.
“This attraction, this feeling of I-want-you, I-have-to-have-you,
you-will-be-mine.”

“You weren’t even nice to me.” I slid my hands up his arms
to his shoulders.

“Self-preservation. Who’s allowed to get the hots for their
boss, huh? Who’s allowed to have visions of the woman who signs their paycheck
naked, legs spread, pussy damp and breasts heaving?”

Oh God, is that what he’d been thinking in the locker room?

“It’s complicated,” I managed. “I’ll admit that.”

“Story of my life.” He extended my neck a little more and
dropped honeyed kisses to my collarbone.

I ran my hand over his hair. It was sharp on the upstroke,
smooth on the down.

“I joked around, teased you,” he said. “It’s worked in the
past to get the girl, but not you, eh?” He untangled his fingers from my hair,
stopped kissing me and traced the strap of my bikini top from where it rested
on my shoulder down to the frill on the cup. “You’re a whole different kettle
of fish.”

“Ick, don’t mention fish.”

He kind of smiled, but he seemed to be concentrating on the
way the red dotty material covered my breasts rather than what I’d said. He
dipped his finger beneath the cup and stroked my breast, not quite catching my
nipple.

I inhaled deeply, wishing he’d touched me lower on my breast
and caught that tight nub that was becoming greedy for attention.

“I want to adore you, all over. No rushing, just taking my
time,” he said, his breath washing down on my chest. “Do all the things I’ve
been thinking of doing and then some more I haven’t fantasized about yet, but
know I will when we get started. I want to do it slow, so slow you’ll feel like
time has stood still, and when I make you come, it will go on and on and on,
forever. It will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.”

Oh fuck. Had he been taking lessons from Henri? That was the
kind of thing he used to say. Was it? No, this was much better, because Dustin
was saying it in a way that made me feel as if I was the only woman he’d ever
uttered those words to. He made me feel special, precious, as though he’d just
been handed a ticket to Heaven and I was it.

“It’s breaking our rules,” I managed.

“Fuck rules. They were made to be broken.” He straightened
to his full height and released me. A serious, I-mean-business expression
etched over his face. “You going over my shoulder again, or are you walking?”

“Walking,” I said quickly, “I’ll walk.”

He took my hand and marched us in silence across the sand. I
was wet between my legs, but I had no idea what was seawater and what was
arousal.

He was going to make me come in a way that made it last
forever? He’d been thinking of
doing
things to me. When had he thought
about that? In between calling me sweet cheeks, saving me from muggers or swimming
in the sea?

I didn’t care. I just wanted some of his promises and I had
no doubts that he could deliver. His ego was big, but as I’d found out, that
was well justified.

He stamped across the deck and stopped to rinse the sand
from his feet. I followed, did the same, and quickly realized the deck bed was
out for whatever he had planned. In fact, he paused to shut the patio doors and
flick the lock before he tugged me into the bedroom he’d been using. I was at a
near jog by that point and wondering at how he’d thought sanely enough to lock
out the world.

“I thought you said slow?” I said.

“It will be, when you get on the bed.” He spun around and
dragged me close. “Fucking hell, woman what have you done to me?”

“Nothing intentionally.” I rested my hands on his chest and
was delighted when I felt his hard cock nudging my stomach, straining against
those awful green trunks.

My bikini top slackened then slipped down. He’d unclipped it
at my nape.

“I feel I missed out last time,” he said, cupping both of my
breasts in his big hands. “I didn’t get properly acquainted with these
puppies.”

“Puppies? I—”

He cut me off with another one of his lethally slow,
seductive kisses that made cognitive thought a thing of the past. Screw it, he
could call my breasts puppies every day of the week if it meant I could have
this sensation.

He massaged and squeezed, getting it just right and catching
my nipples between his fingers, pulling, stretching, the exact amount to make
me groan into his mouth.

“I need you on the bed,” he murmured against my cheek. “Be
there naked by the time I get back.”

He left me and stalked from the room. I missed his body heat
and his touch, and stared at the space he’d just inhabited.

“Naked,” I murmured. “I can do that.”

It only took a second to strip off my little bikini bottoms
and I kicked them away and crawled onto the plus-sized bed. I’d never slept in
this guest room at the front of the house. The furniture was mainly wicker, the
headboard made of bamboo slats. There was a large potted plant near the window
and the curtains were white with a leaf pattern similar to the real plant.

I stretched out flat on my back, pointed my toes and raised
my arms, pushing them over my head and arching my spine feline style. The
sheets were silky and cool, the pillow deep. I could just make out Dustin’s
cologne on the slip.

“Mmm, perfect.” Dustin was back at the door. “You look ready
for a damn good seeing to, sweet cheeks.”

I grinned and relaxed my posture. It no longer bothered me,
sweet cheeks, especially when he said it with such a sinful glint in his eyes
and with such a tenting in his trunks.

He walked to the bedside table and set down a glass
containing ice cubes. “Just so we’re clear,” he said. “Are we using condoms for
this?”

“No, no, I…”

He narrowed his eyes. “I will if that’s better for you.”

“No, I want to feel you, your dick, flesh against flesh.”

He half smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that, but thought it
best not to be presumptuous.”

“Because that wouldn’t be in your nature at all, would it?”

“Sassy minx,” he said, opening the bedside drawer. “You’ll
pay for that.”

“I hope so.”

He pulled out a handful of silk scarves, various pastel
colors.

“What are they for?” I asked.

“You’ll see.”

“Are they yours?”

“No, I found them last night when I was looking for
something to read.”

“Oh.” I wondered if they were Giselle’s, but more likely
just forgotten by one of Mom and Dad’s guests over the years.

“They gave me an idea,” Dustin said. “As soon as I saw them,
just one of the fantasies I told you about.” He climbed onto the bed and
straddled my chest with his legs.

His shorts were damp on my body, his legs as solid as trunks
against my ribs.

“Keep your hands up, like that,” he said, sliding a pale
lemony scarf beneath my wrists.

“What are you doing?” I had a pretty good idea, but still, I
liked hearing his voice when it was dripping with lust and rough with
determination.

“Tying you down. You’ll be glad I did.” His gaze caught
mine. “Can you cope with that?”

“Yes, I trust you.”

“Really?” He acted surprised.

“Yes.”

He chuckled. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

I jerked a little as he tightened a knot that secured my
arms above my head. I twisted and glanced up, saw that he’d threaded the scarf
through one of the bamboo slats.

“They’re only made for this,” he said, “these headboards.
Not exactly comfortable to rest back on, only good for tying sexy ladies
exactly where a guy wants them.” He tipped forward and kissed me. “Close your
eyes.”

Heart racing, I did as he’d asked. Soft material pressed
down over my face. I was sure it would be taking away my vision if I were to
open my eyes. But I didn’t, I kept them shut, happy to fall into a world that
relied on my other senses.

He was breathing hard, obviously excited. He smelled of the
sea and of man, salty and fresh, a little of hot flesh too.

Another kiss pressed against my lips and I drank in his
flavor, wondering in that moment if I would ever get enough of this badass
player of mine. He could become addictive.

He broke the kiss and his weight lifted. I tried to follow
what he was doing and moved my head, straining for any clue.

There was a
clink
of ice on glass, then he scooped my
right breast into his hand. A sudden chill on my erect nipple had me catching
my breath. The cold seemed to dart right to the center of my chest. I wanted
more, but at the same time it was too much.

He lifted it away and then the suckling heat of his mouth
caressed my taut nipple. But only for a second because then the ice was back,
circling around my twisted stalk. The weight in my breast felt as though it had
increased. I moaned a little, then bit my bottom lip.

“So sexy,” he murmured, switching to the other breast.
“You’re so responsive to ice.”

“Figures,” I gasped as he tweaked my nipple and then rubbed
the cube over it.

He set his mouth over the cold flesh. I tried to reach his
head, urge him on, stroke his hair, but as soon as I tried I remembered my
harnessed wrists. I jerked my shoulders but moved nowhere.

He chuckled. “Oh, frustration so soon.”

“No, I…I wanted to touch you.”

“You’ll get your chance. Right now this is all about me
touching you.”

I was tied to Dustin “Speed” Reed’s bed, naked and desperate
for him. This was all about him touching me, so he’d just said. My pussy was
damp, my internal muscles contracting around nothing and my belly was coiled
with anticipation.

What girl wouldn’t be feeling like a loaded spring?

He slid the ice cube all around my breasts, not just the
nipples but also the outer curves, my sternum and the heavier side slopes,
tracing patterns, figures of eight and spirals.

I was hot and cold at the same time. My flesh was goose
bumps and hypersensitive. He’d made my breasts his main focus, the area of my
anatomy most turned-on.

I writhed and arched for his touch, lost in my own dark world
and focusing on him.

I heard a crunch and then his cool lips touched mine. He’d
eaten the cube that had slipped over my flesh and then fed me the lingering
watery flavor.

“Ready for more?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

Again the chink of ice and then my navel chilled. He kissed
my breasts as he made a slippery snaking trail of cold across my belly to my
hips and then back to the indent of my stomach.

I tugged at the silk around my wrists, wanting more, needing
him to take this thing lower.

He huffed a little, as though sensing my frustration.
“Getting impatient?”

“No, I…” My words trailed off as he eased the cube into the
thin strip of hair above my slit. “Yes.”

“I’m a generous guy,” he said, “when it comes to pleasure.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

The ice touched my clit. Not briefly, but a hard, solid
pressure.

“Oh God,” I moaned, tipping my hips up and then away.
“Dustin.”

“I’m gonna make this sweet little go-button of yours
deliciously cold and then so burning hot you’ll think you’re on fire.”

Even though I’d wriggled he’d held the ice in place. He’d
shuffled downward too, between my legs, shoving at my inner thighs with his
elbows until I was spread open, the tendons in my hips aching the sweetest
amount.

“So pretty,” he said. “You should see yourself.”

I squirmed and canted my hips, ready for the ice to move.

He took the hint, set it on a ride down through my folds,
every crease and crevice becoming moist and cool. It was like no other
sensation I’d ever felt before.

He tucked the ice into the first dip of my entrance and
placed his lips over my clit, then sucked long and hard.

Now I was glad to be tied down. I’d have hit the ceiling, I
was sure. The heat of his mouth pulling me in was like a wild injection of lust
into my veins. Hot and cold combined and made me shiver and jerk, thrust my
hips for more, pull back because of the burning pressure.

He forced my legs down, stretching me wide, and flicked my
clit within the suction of his mouth.

“Oh, oh, oh…” I managed and then squeezed my lips tight
together. I was spinning, lost in what he was doing.

His fingers were busy again. Moving that cube around,
touching it to the smooth patch of skin between my pussy and my anus.

An orgasm was beckoning. The pressure was building into a
deep, profound climax that was getting ready to detonate.

I didn’t know where the ice cube was now. It was just his
fingers and his mouth on me. Where he’d learned to work a clit with such skill
I had no idea. I wasn’t even sure what he was doing, all I did know was that I
didn’t want him to stop. It was too damn good.

A sudden filling in my pussy tipped me nearer to the edge of
bliss. My stomach was tight and my chest heaving. I wasn’t sure how much more
my spine could bow.

It was there, the topple into ecstasy was inevitable.

I clenched my fists, held my breath and let pleasure rip
through my body, giving into it absolutely. He stayed with me, finger-fucking
me, drawing my clit into his mouth, rippling his tongue over it as it pulsed.
He was pressing on my mound too, and that seemed to capture my orgasm, hold it
there, extend the mind-shattering, consuming delight.

“Oh, oh, fuck, yes,” I cried, thrashing my head from side to
side. “Fuck, keep going.”

I was dizzy, everything felt surreal. I wrapped my legs
around his back and banged my heels against his torso.

My pussy was throbbing, clamping his fingers. I could feel
and hear the moisture weeping from me. It felt as though every muscle in my
pelvis was thumping, pounding, my asshole contracted, my inner thighs were
tense against his shoulders.

“Ah, ah…” I panted. “I need… Fuck… Dustin… Stop.” I was
losing myself. That was it. The sensations were so powerful my body had to have
a reprieve.

He lifted up, releasing my clit but keeping his fingers
wedged high. I tried to look at him but of course my world was dark behind the
silky scarf.

“You come so beautifully,” he said. “Who would have thought
my uptight boss lady could be so wanton?”

“Only…wanton…because of what…you’re doing,” I managed.

He chuckled and stroked his thumb over my clit.

A full body tremor shook its way through my torso and limbs.
“Oh God,” I groaned.

Suddenly his face was over mine. I could smell myself on his
breath and feel his heat on my lips and cheeks.

“If only you could see yourself,” he whispered. “You look
amazing, a truly beautiful, trusting, giving woman allowing herself to be
pleasured by a man who adores her. How does it feel to have given yourself up
so totally?”

“It…it
feels
amazing,” I said, lifting my face for a
kiss.

He gave it. Still massaging my pussy, he licked over my
mouth, my teeth and then tangled his tongue with mine.

I groaned, it was completely uninhibited and I reveled in
feeling so comfortable with him that my basic instincts could surface
unimpeded.

Eventually he pulled from my pussy.

I was hot, wet, sweaty and panting, and when he tugged at
the blindfold I blinked in the harsh light of the room. I’d been lost in my
black world, had folded in on myself, shrunk into a mass of sensation and been
swept along on a whirlwind of desire, desire that had been stoked and fed by
Dustin.

He grinned down at me. His pupils were wide, his lips damp
and his cheeks held a red flush. “You okay?”

“Never better.”

He grinned in a way that held more than a smidgen of male
pride. But that was okay, he should be proud, that was one hell of a way to
make a girl come.

He reached for the binds on my wrists, carefully unraveled
them and freed my arms.

“Come here,” he said, rolling onto his side and pulling me
close. “I think you need to get your breath back for a minute.”

I happily snuggled into his wide chest and let him envelop
me in his thickly roped biceps. He smelled hot and musky and his cock prodded
against me.

“But you haven’t…”

“Shh,” he whispered, stroking my hair. “We have all day.
Enjoy this moment. Let your body flop.”

I sighed, pressed my thighs together and was rewarded with a
lingering and pleasurable pulse of orgasm. He was right, we had all day and all
night until the real world started calling us back to earth.

Until then…

* * * * *

I must have drifted off because when I woke I was alone. I
stretched out my arms and faced the open bedroom door.

A tap was running in the kitchen. It flicked off and there
was the slap of big bare feet on the wooden floor.

Dustin appeared holding two slim glasses of water.

“I thought you’d be thirsty,” he said, walking naked into
the room, stopping by the bed and gulping from one of the glasses.

His cock was still rigid, the head almost touched his
bellybutton and it was mauve with arousal.

“I am thirsty,” I said, propping onto my elbows and licking
my lips, “and it seems you’re in need of something else too.”

He smiled and passed me a glass. “I’m a patient man.”

“Mmm, I’m not so sure about that.”

“Well, to a certain degree anyway. Every guy has a snapping
point.”

I took a sip of water and then placed the tumbler on the
bedside cabinet. As I did so the scarves fell to the floor in a slippery, silky
slide. I looked at them, tangled and pale on the dark floor and then eyed the
three-drawer cabinet.

“I wonder what else is in here?” I said, grabbing the second
handle down. “More things we can play with.” I giggled.

He shrugged. “Dunno, take a look.”

The second drawer held a map of the island and a ferry
timetable. I quickly shut it. Boring.

The next drawer wouldn’t budge. I tugged harder, almost
toppling off the bed in my eagerness.

“Here,” Dustin said, bending double. “Let me.”

He pulled, hard, there was a snapping sound and it flew
open, almost off its runners, leaving the shocking contents no place to hide.

We were both silent for several seconds, then Dustin spoke.
“Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“No,” I agreed. “And who the hell does it belong to? Why is
it here?”

“Fuck knows, seems a lot of people borrow this place. But
look, it’s brand new, it still has a price tag on.” Dustin lifted the black
harness out of the drawer. The long, black cock attached to it came too,
hanging heavily from a smooth leather pad that resembled the front of a pair of
panties.

He held it up and the tip of the cock dangled near my face.
It was remarkably detailed with a flared head and a groove where the opening on
the tip would be.

“I didn’t know Dad had any lesbian friends,” I said.
“That’ll be who the scarves belong to as well.”

Dustin laughed, a great big guffaw. “Lesbians?”

I scowled. “Yes, that’s who must own this.” I pointed at the
strap-on and scooted backward onto the bed, against the cushions. “Because they
haven’t got a dick to play with.”

“It’s not just lesbians who use these,” Dustin said,
gripping the silicone cock in his fist.

I watched his fingers curling around the shaft and then
glanced at his real cock, still engorged and ready for action. “What do you
mean?”

“I mean…” He formed a circle with his thumb and index finger
and ran it to the root of the dildo then back to the tip as if jerking it off.
“Couples use these… Male and female couples.”

“Oh.” My mind whirred. I’d never really thought about it.

“Yeah,” he said. “It can make things a whole lot hotter.”

There was something about the carnal tilt to his lips and
the narrowing of his eyes that told me Dustin thought strap-on play was
off-the-scale boiling. I studied the dildo harness again, wondering if it would
fit him if he wanted to penetrate me in two holes at once. I wasn’t averse to
some rear entry fun, but it looked like a small width on the hips and really a
bit too delicate for his big body.

“I don’t think it will fit,” I said, “even if you did want
to put it on.” I swallowed tightly, wondering at what was being left unsaid
between us. Did I want him to double penetrate me? If he did that would be a
first for me. Could I do it? Take that
and
him?

“
Me
put it on?” He tipped his head to the side and
tugged on his bottom lip. I got the feeling he wanted to say more but was
stopping himself.

Which was just as well, a spill of thoughts were avalanching
in my brain. Eventually I asked, “You want
me
to wear it?”

He set it on the bed, sat down next to it and took my hand.
“You look shocked that I could suggest such a thing.”

“Well, a little…”

He tugged me forward and touched my fingers to his hot cock.
“Feel how much I want you,” he said, his voice low and a little gruff. “I want
every bit of you, everything you can give me, while we are here, now, in the
present and the rest of the world has faded away. This is our moment, you
belong to me and I belong to you.”

My heart rate picked up another level as I wrapped my fist
around his erection. His shaft was solid and hot, the dead-straight veins
engorged and pulsing against my palm. He was right, the rest of the world had
faded away.

“I can feel,” I whispered, “how much you need to come.”

He groaned and his eyes rolled slightly. “God, you touching
me might have that happening within seconds. You’re so damn sexy.”

“But you want more than just my hand.”

His eyes came back into focus and he set his attention on
me.

“What is it?” I asked. “Tell me what you want. How do you
want to come?” It was only fair. He’d just given me a top-rate orgasm.

“Will you wear it?” he asked quietly. “The strap-on.”

“And then what?” I knew what, I just wondered if he’d say it
in plain English. If he didn’t, that was okay too, because there was something
seriously sexy about the undercurrents swirling within our words.

“What do you think I want to happen then?” He licked his
bottom lip and blinked rapidly a couple of times.

“I think you want me to fuck you.”

“Got it in one.”

A ripple of excitement traveled up my spine as images of
what he was suggesting filled my mind. “Have you done it before though? With
something like that?” I nodded at the fake cock. “Up your…?”

“At the risk of shocking you, yeah, a few times.”

“Who with?” Not rink bunnies. Please, not just any old lay.

He shrugged as though it didn’t really matter, though of
course it did, then said, “My ex. We liked to experiment with what got us
going.” He glanced away. “Things might have gone wrong between us
relationshipwise but there was never any issues with our sex life.”

“Oh, I see.” I paused for a moment and studied him. He
seemed so vulnerable confessing his history and exposing his desires to me,
when he was naked and hungry for sex. It made me soften for him all the more
and I was already pretty much a puddle of something scarily like falling for
him.

But I did understand exactly what he wanted. Though I was a
little surprised that the great Dustin “Speed” Reed was willing to be bent
over. Allow someone else to take control and shaft him up the ass.