Naked & Unleashed

Naked & Unleashed

Emily Ryan-Davis

Aesthetician Callista has major lust for one of her house-call clients and her attraction only has a little to do with his highly impressive package. Respectable businessman by day, dangerous Dom by night, Mikal possesses an underlying darkness that sets fire to her most taboo fantasies. If only he’d force her to have sex with him, he’d be her perfect lover.

Something about Callista calls to Mikal’s darkest instincts, but he works hard to suppress his predatory urges and aggressive desires. He doesn’t want the kind of trouble that comes from indulging them. When Callista endangers herself in a bid to satisfy her own forbidden needs, his resolve fractures. Her surrender belongs to him, her body is his to command, trouble be damned.

Naked & Unleashed

Emily Ryan-Davis

Chapter One

Easily ten inches long and so thick her gloved hand couldn’t close around it, Mikal Steele’s erect cock was the largest she’d ever worked with—sexually or professionally. Callista Voorhees positioned the hard length slightly to the left and concentrated on the flawless edge of the straight razor she skimmed along the cream-lathered crease of her client’s muscular thigh. She wanted to lick the clean line she left behind. Instead, she wiped the blade on a soft, dry cloth.

Mikal took advantage of the pause to stretch and shift on the towel-lined chair. “Did you always want to be a ball shaver?”

She snorted softly, privately amused by his persistence in using crude language. Nothing about the man was unrefined…except the statement he made with his fashion and his occasionally foul mouth. Take away the piercings and the black-on-black garb and he was completely uptown.

From his taste in art to his almost obsessive personal grooming habits, he screamed elegance. His home office didn’t feature a degree on the wall but Callista had seen his music room. A beautiful, dark-wood upright bass shared space with a framed master’s degree in music from Berklee and a bookcase that overflowed with sheet music.

Callista glanced up and met his eyes, pale blue and defined by thick eyeliner and eyebrow piercings. Refined? Yeah. Masquerading as something else? No doubt about it. She was okay with that. She had a secret or two of her own. “Ever since I was a little girl. Have I mentioned most people wax?”

“Only every Friday. Want to know a secret?” He held her gaze.

She raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Am I obligated to share one of my own in return?”

“I don’t trade, lover. If I give you something, there aren’t any strings. Mostly.” He paused a beat before saying, “I like looking at your head bent over my dick. Shaving takes longer and requires more attention to detail, which means you’re there longer. And when you start to get tired, you sigh and I can feel your breath on my skin.”

Callista swallowed and broke eye contact. “I suppose I’ll stop mentioning the wax then.”

Work. She had to work. To distract herself, she said, “My mom was a stylist. The freelance thing, you know? When mani-pedis and waxing became every woman’s thing to do, she decided she wanted to open a full-service salon. I got volunteered as free labor. When Vermont started to feel too small, I had a profession I could take anywhere.”

“Ah, yeah,” Mikal said. “Thank God for family businesses.”

“I didn’t mind. I liked working for someone I could call ‘Mom’ instead of ‘Ma’am’ and there’s something about being responsible for a client’s genitals that makes the client friendly.” Not usually as friendly as her current client. Lapsing into silence, she cleaned up the spots she’d missed, put the razor aside and removed her gloves.

Mikal palmed his cock. “Do you want to stay today?”

Now that she’d left the danger zone and there was no longer a risk of slicing into his flesh, she allowed herself to feel the arousal pulsing between her legs. Was she staying today? Now that was a good question. The muscles of his groin flexed as she carefully applied a thin layer of unscented moisturizer to his testicles and the surrounding area. Callista studied the veins and tendons visible along the back of Mikal’s hand. He had long fingers to go with his impressive erection. The black lacquer she’d applied to his blunt nails gleamed in the bright glow of a nearby lamp.

He rubbed his thumb across the head of his cock, picking up a droplet of pre-cum. “Callista?”

She licked her lips. Since the moisturizer was fragrance-free, she could easily detect his distinctly masculine scent. In ten years of working as a professional, full-service esthetician, she’d encountered a great variety of anatomies. She had more female clients than male clients, and most of the men stuck to basic grooming services. She’d shaved a lot of jaws and buffed even more fingernails, but she’d never relished such intimate contact with other clients. They were jobs. Mikal was a
want
.

And she needed to exercise a measure of self-control before he became an addiction. Shaking her head, she regretfully refused. “I have three more clients to meet after we’re finished here.”

Mikal pumped his fist casually. “Have I ever made you late before?”

He made a good case—not that she needed much convincing. A girl needed a few wants in her life, right? Craving real skin-on-skin contact, she drew her fingertip down the silky heat of his flesh. Just a little taste wouldn’t hurt, would it? “I suppose you haven’t.”

He hummed a low sound of approval. Her inner muscles clenched instantly, responding to the deep vibration of his voice. He didn’t even have to speak actual words and she creamed for him.

Trying not to think about how completely hot she was, Callista rose up on her knees and leaned over to lick the moisture from his cock. His pre-cum was salty on her tongue, a contrast to the super-sweet mocha she’d downed for lunch. She could spend hours tasting him, enjoying the hard length of his erection and the soft, clean-shaven skin of his balls. But worship like that was something a woman gave to the man she loved, not the man she groomed. She reluctantly lifted her head.

Mikal stopped her an inch away from his cock. He threaded his fingers through her hair, somehow managing to secure a powerful grip on the close-cropped strands. “Stay. You could try to take it all this time.”

“I don’t think that’s anatomically possible,” she said lightly, making an attempt at hiding her hunger. Possible or not, she wanted his ruddy, mushroom-flared cock head in her throat.

“Stop thinking and do it.” He drew her closer and lifted his hips. His cock brushed her parted lips.

Callista teased his slit with the tip of her tongue, looking for another bead of fluid. She peeked up at Mikal through her lashes. His eyes were closed and she could see a hint of his even, white teeth. As she ran her tongue around his sensitive head, his Adam’s apple rose and fell. She smiled. “Are you going to make me?”

He opened his eyes and pinned her with a head-on stare. No playfulness or teasing in his tone. “Do you want me to?”

Yesssss
. Her pussy clenched hard enough that she drew a sharp breath through her nose. Mikal’s eyes darkened and he flexed his fingers in her hair but he didn’t push her mouth onto his cock. He waited.

She dropped her gaze, shying away from that dark desire. But oh, how she wanted. “Of course not.”

“Hmmm.” Mikal rubbed the spot behind her ear with his thumb and relaxed his grip. “So stop fucking around and do it yourself if you don’t want me to make you.”

She missed the forceful pressure of his hand but not enough to ask for what she really wanted. Only crazy, screwed-up women craved force. She’d never ask anybody for that, not even Mikal, whose rumor-filled past was what had kicked her fantasy life into shameful overdrive.

Making do with what she
could
have, Callista opened wide and sucked him deep into her mouth with one smooth motion. As his girth stretched her lips, she pretended that he pushed her down against her will and whispered wicked threats in her ear. She flexed her tongue against the underside of his shaft and earned a low groan for her efforts. As if he didn’t have any faith in her ability to accept his entire length, he wrapped his free hand around the root of his cock.

Breathing carefully through her nose, Callista sank down on him a little farther. Her throat locked up and she started to gag but willed the reflex away. She didn’t have any choice but to succeed. The fantasy man would kill her if she didn’t make him come.

Her lips bumped his fingers. Eyes closed, immersed fantasy, she shifted her weight to straddle his leg and worked her pussy against his muscular thigh. The hem of her short skirt bit into her skin. Wetness made the thin barrier of her panties nearly non-existent. She could feel the coarse whorls of his hair and the weave of cotton against her clit, abrading the delicate bit of flesh. When he released his cock and took her head in both hands, a powerful bolt of pleasure slammed through her system. Callista dug her fingernails into his thighs, searching for something to ground her, something to keep her from backing off. Her
life
depended upon her staying and finishing the job…and he wasn’t going to let her go before she finished, anyway.

Throat flexing around his cock, she concentrated on breathing and sucking. Her cheeks contracted on his shaft and she stroked with her tongue, reaching for the base and the last couple of inches.

“Goddamn,” he muttered above her head. And he forced her nose closer to his groin.

She had to make him come. Peeling her fingers from his leg, she wriggled her hand between them and cupped his heavy balls in her palm. She tried bobbing her head to get some friction going, but he held her secure, choking her with his flesh. Callista whimpered, feeling the first stirrings of real panic. If she didn’t make him come, he’d kill her. How could she bring him off if she couldn’t move her mouth on him?

Trying to remain calm, she inched her fingers lower, probing for something that would set him off. His scent overwhelmed her senses, hot and salty and male. Dominating her sensory field.

Mikal shifted his weight, driving his thigh against her pussy while he opened for her seeking fingers. Orgasm teased the edges of her senses. She wanted to bear down and grind her clit against him until it crested, but she was afraid she’d truly choke on his cock if she lost control of her body. And then he’d kill her. He
would
. So she denied herself pleasure and focused on earning life.

She had to turn the tables. Ignoring the spots behind her eyes, which were the first warning that she needed more oxygen than she was getting, she slid the tip of her middle finger across his anus. He swore again and his cock jerked in her mouth. Callista pushed, trying to gain entrance past the tight ring of muscle. Lube would have made things easier but she didn’t have that luxury…and he wouldn’t like it as much, anyway.

Angling her wrist for leverage, Callista forced her way past the resistant muscle. Mikal’s breath hissed between his teeth and he bucked, drawing his cock back before slamming past her teeth. She lost her careful control and gagged. The only thing that kept her stable was the threat to her life. A few more seconds—she could keep it together that long. Semen sprayed the back of her throat, temporarily soothing the raw flesh, and she finally released the rigid grip she held on her body. Mikal drove his thigh up between her legs, forcing the orgasm she’d refused to embrace, and she cried out with the force of release

He mercifully pulled her mouth off his cock and drew her over to rest against his chest. His deep, rapid breathing ruffled her hair.

“Good girl,” he rasped. He squeezed her ass before sliding his hand lower to cup her pussy from behind. He shifted the wet cotton aside and tunneled his fingers into her wetness, two sliding easily into her fluttering heat. He strummed her clit lightly, triggering another quick convulsion. “So hot and wet and tight. Stay and let me fuck you all over again.”

His cock was still hard against her inner thigh. Callista groaned against his shoulder but reluctantly let the fantasy slip away. Mikal wasn’t going to hurt her. He was a civilized man. A small part of her wished otherwise, but she wouldn’t force a man to commit a crime for the sake of her depraved urges. Besides, she didn’t
need
him to hurt her. She didn’t.

“Callista?” He tugged on her hair, pulling her face off his chest. He wanted a response to the offer, permission to proceed.

Ordinarily she’d give it freely and eagerly. Something was different about today. She felt different. All she had to do was say yes and Mikal would stuff his ten inches into her hot, soaking-wet pussy. She loved everything about fucking him, from the way he stretched her wide to the way he dragged his black-painted nails down her stomach while he pounded into her. He didn’t satisfy her every desire, but she hadn’t revealed everything either.

Lowering her gaze, she tracked down his broad, smooth chest to the well-muscled planes of his stomach. Pale skin on any other man turned her off but it totally worked with Mikal’s dangerous, grown-up goth look. She suspected he cultivated his image for the shock value because he was
Mikal Steele
and his family’s name equaled money in the bank—but it also equaled naked to the public eye. The steel rings in his eyebrows, his thick black eyeliner and long, straight raven hair were middle fingers to public opinion. But it wasn’t all about refusing to conform to the image expected of his family name and social position. He was dark on the inside. She saw it in his pale-blue eyes every time she met his gaze. And she wanted the darkness.

But, she realized, she didn’t want it this way. And she wouldn’t ask him to do it the way she wanted.

“Not today,” she said. In her mind, she added, not anymore. She had to drop him before he coaxed her secrets into the light.

He withdrew his fingers from her pussy and Callista missed his touch.
Missed
it. She really had to stop crossing the professional line. Looking away from him, she climbed off his lap and set herself to the task of packing away her supplies. She made short work of it and quickly stood to put distance between them.

Behind her, Mikal spoke evenly, as if she hadn’t just turned him down for the same sex she’d eagerly accepted once a week for the past three months. “Today’s fee has already been transferred to your account. I have to go out of town next weekend. Are you able to come on Thursday instead of Friday?”