Shameless (Playboys in Love #1), Page 4

  “Fuck, yeah, Jane, just like that.”

  The hand over my mouth adjusts to grip my jaw as the other one drops down to cup my mound. His fingers cleave my pussy lips through my yoga pants. I’m so sensitive, like the years of inferior, mechanically-induced orgasms have screwed with my sensors, and now, experiencing a man’s touch—and by man, I mean “sex god who’s promising to make my wildest fantasies come true”—has me ready to explode within seconds. With the friction between my slick folds, the glancing pass over my clit makes me involuntarily jerk, but he holds me firmly in place.

  “I want to use your body for my pleasure,” he continues, “and watch you get pleasure from being used. Because you would, wouldn’t you, Jane? You’d get off on being my fucking slut for the night.”

  Holy shit, my knees actually buckle when he says the word slut. I’ve always known how depraved I am in theory, but there’s always been a part of me that wonders if I’ll be turned on when actually faced with the same things I troll for on the porn sites. Guess that answers that question.

  “Forget about what you think is right, and focus on what feels right. Embrace your darkest desires. There’s no shame in what you want.”

  Shameless… What would it be like to let go like that? To not worry about what others might think and just…be.

  Chance nips at my earlobe, the quick pinch dragging me from my thoughts. “Tell me what you want, Jane. Do you want to be my little slut for the night? Do you want me to fuck you like the bad girl I know you are?”

  My mind reels, trying to keep up with the visceral reactions his words are having on me, but it’s a lost cause. Every time he speaks, he sets fire to all the reasons my brain erects as to why this isn’t a good idea, until all that’s left is wanton desire—desire for all the things his words and his body are promising.

  So, I let go of every inhibition I’ve ever had, embrace the drunken lust…and I nod.

  Chapter Six

  Jane

  “Good answer,” he growls and spins me to face him. He fists my hair and yanks my head back again while the fingers of his other hand stroke down the arch of my neck. “Do you know how to deep-throat a cock, Jane?”

  My insides tremble at the thought of him taking my mouth and fucking my throat. “Yes.”

  “Of course you do,” he says. “Every good slut knows how to properly suck cock.”

  His dark blue eyes hold my gaze captive as his hands trail down my sides and then gather my wrists together behind my back. Slowly, he drags the zipper of my hoodie down, the backs of his knuckles burning a trail over the center line of my body, then shoves the sides off my shoulders, exposing my breasts.

  My breaths are little more than tiny, excited huffs, causing my wanton chest to rise and fall, beckoning him to look, to take notice of what I’m offering up to him. Or, more accurately, what I’m allowing him to take.

  Finally, he tears his eyes away from mine so they can take their fill of what he’s uncovered.

  “No T-shirt, no bra,” he muses. He squeezes one breast roughly, causing me to inhale sharply. “Were you hoping that your handyman would notice, Jane? Did you want him to see your hard nipples through the cotton of your sweatshirt? Did you want him to take advantage of you?”

  The way he’s kneading my breasts and pinching my nipples has me reeling, and I almost don’t manage an answer, but at last I shake my head. “No,” I say on a gasp when he tweaks one bud especially hard. “I wasn’t hoping that.”

  “And how about now, Jane,” he asks gruffly. “Now that you know I’m your handyman. A man with a hard body and even harder cock. A man who can fuck you better than any of the limp-dick pussies in your past. A man who can show you what it’s like to be used so well your body will still be feeling me in a week.”

  I tremble. “Yes.”

  “Good girl. Now, get naked so I can see what’s mine.”

  What’s mine. What would it be like to have a domineering man like Chance claim me as his, even for a little while? I’m about to find out. It seems so surreal, this whole situation. It all happened so fast, from ordinary handyman to seductive stripper to unexpected lover. Though, that makes it sound too tender. What he is, is a fucker, and he’s promising to be a better fuck than I’ve ever had.

  He doesn’t know that my lackluster sexual experiences thus far make his statement insignificant, but I think he has the potential to be better than my future experiences, and that fact leaves me both exhilarated and mildly depressed.

  He steps back to give me room, and I suppose to give himself a better vantage point from which to watch. When I don’t immediately move to follow his command, he crosses his arms and arches a brow in challenge.

  This is the defining moment. If I want to change my mind, the time to do it is now, before I take the rest of my clothes off. But even though I can still, just barely, hear the rational voice telling me to come to my senses…I don’t want to. I want this. I want him. All I have to do is be bold enough.

  “Jane.” His voice is a whip cracking in the air between us, spurring me into action.

  Be bold enough, Janey. Taking a deep breath, I pull my arms from the sleeves and drop the hoodie behind me, then hook my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and drag them, and my yoga pants, down my legs before stepping out of them and removing my socks. I straighten to stand in front of Chance completely nude with the exception of the trim thatch of hair on my mound. I’m not the most confident woman—as evidenced by my steadily increasing anxiety the longer I’m not distracted by his heady touches—but I force my clenched hands to stay at my sides, and I wait.

  His eyes roam heavily over my body, blazing a fiery path and making my skin feel tight and hot. Finally, his tank finds its way to the floor, leaving his upper body gloriously bare for my eyes to do a little roaming of their own. I assumed he’d take the rest of his clothes off, but he doesn’t, making me feel more vulnerable than if he were naked with me.

  I’m transfixed as he pulls his cock out from the constriction of his briefs and begins stroking himself. I know this is cliché, but sweet baby Jesus, the man is huge. Thick and long and hard as granite, with throbbing veins and a dusky head leaking clear drops of pre-cum I’m suddenly desperate to taste.

  “You want my cock, Jane?” Wide eyed and transfixed, I nod. He walks backward until he’s leaning against the wall with his feet spread apart, still lazily stroking himself from root to head and back again. “Then get on the floor and crawl for it, little slut.”

  I hesitate. My natural reaction is to war against the derogatory term and demeaning order. But at the same time, something inside me responds like it’s being coaxed out from the cave and Chance is the sun, offering me his warmth and light. This might not be a conventional desire, but it is mine, and now that I’ve had a glimpse of what it’s like outside of that cave, I don’t want to go back.

  Folding into myself, I get down on all fours. The Berber carpet is hard and scratchy under my hands and knees as I crawl—an apt reminder that my comfort is of no consequence to the man making the demands. I don’t stop until I’m directly in front of him, my face mere inches from the gargantuan rod I now crave more than my next breath. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to be in any rush to give it to me.

  Peering up at him from beneath my lashes, I do what I suspect he wants: I beg. “Please, may I put your cock in my mouth?”

  His full lips twist into a wicked grin. “Such lovely manners,” he says. “I suppose I should reward you. Scoot in close then sit back on your heels. Shoulders back so I get a good look at those perky tits. That’s it. Now, stick out your tongue.”

  I watch as he fists his hard shaft and guides the bulbous head to my open mouth. He drags the seeping tip over my flattened tongue, and the sweet taste of his pre-cum is like liquid candy. My mouth fills with saliva, greedy to taste more of him. Before I can rein myself in, I close my lips around him and suck for all I’m worth, trying to milk whatever his cock will give me as I tongue its tiny
slit.

  I hear Chance hiss in a breath and growl out, “Fuck,” before a hand fists in the back of my hair and yanks me away. His free hand grabs my jaw hard enough to hurt, but not so hard that he’ll leave bruises. As he leans over me, I’m forced to meet his angry gaze, and a bolt of apprehension shoots through me. I don’t know this man. I don’t know if he has a mean streak a mile wide and a rap sheet to prove it. What the hell am I doing? This could be my worst best decision ever, and if it turns out I’m really dancing with the devil, it could be the last decision I ever make.

  “Though I’ll admit the feel of those lips sucking at my dick like a goddamn Hoover was pretty fucking amazing, that’s not what I told you to do, is it?”

  I stare into his deep blue eyes and search for signs of malice or ill intent. Signs that I should lock myself in my room and call 911. But I don’t see anything like that. Instead, all I see are flames of desire that match mine, that are licking at both of us and pushing us to give in to the consummation of the ultimate pleasure.

  “You still good, Jane?”

  The tone of his question hints at the civil man who fixed my sink in exchange for a dance. He’s checking in with me, and I’m certain that if I answer no, everything will come to a stop. Playtime with Chance will be over, and I’ll never know what it’s like to have this kind of freedom with a lover who truly understands what I want.

  Any remaining shreds of trepidation dissipate into the ether, and what’s left behind is a burning need for this man to control me, to use me…to fuck me.

  An impish grin lifts the corners of my mouth, and I toss down the verbal gauntlet I hope will unleash the animal I can see straining at its tether inside him.

  “Do your worst.”

  Chapter Seven

  Chance

  Do my worst? Fuuuuck me. It must be my birthday because this woman is the best kind of present. Meek and obedient one minute, wicked and insubordinate the next. Part angel, part devil, and all mine. At least for now, which is fine because that’s all I’m interested in.

  I chuckle, outwardly mocking her bravery even as I secretly praise her for it.

  “My worst?” I repeat. “A little thing like you couldn’t handle my worst. But don’t you worry. There’s still plenty I can give you. Open your mouth.”

  I’m still gripping her jaw¸ so she doesn’t have much choice, but she opens wide anyway. She’s eager for my cock. Her little stunt a few seconds ago confirmed that, and I’m more than happy to give it to her.

  I release my hold on her jaw and guide the fat head of my dick past those pouty lips. The wet heat of her mouth makes me hiss in a breath. I steadily push my hips forward, demanding she take more of me. I’m bigger than average—a fact I’m reminded of every time a woman sees my cock for the first time—but I want to see how far I can push Jane. How much of me she’ll take before tapping out.

  Her brown eyes, glassy and dark with desire, start to water as I hit the back of her throat. She’s taking quick puffs of air through her nose, but she’s not ready to take me deeper yet. Reluctantly, I pull out and watch with satisfaction as strings of her spit keep us connected. She drags in deep gulps of air, her perky tits heaving. “Good,” I growl. “Again.”

  This time I don’t go slow. Orientation is over. I use my thumb to press my cock down to line up with her open mouth and drive forward until she gags, then pull back out. I do it again and again, reveling in the way she looks on her knees for me, and the sounds she makes every time I retreat and let her take a quick breath.

  Her eyelashes are spiked with the wetness of her eyes watering. If I weren’t an expert in reading women, I might think the tears streaming down her temples to disappear into her hairline are ones of distress. But I’m paying attention to those beautiful pools of dark chocolate, and they’re telling me that Jane is loving every minute of this.

  She’s driving me fucking insane. I’ve been sucked off by hundreds of women—yes, hundreds—and something about Jane is making this feel different, better. It’s gotta be because for the first time ever, a woman isn’t fawning over me or actively trying to be the next one to ride my dick. There’s no other explanation. A hole is a hole—it all feels the same to a guy. Sure there are some techniques that might make certain things better, but give a guy a warm, wet hole with some friction, and he’s gonna blow his load, guaranteed. We’re easy as shit like that.

  So I refuse to think that the reason Jane Wendall is blowing my mind right now is for any other reason than it’s a turn-on to fuck her when she was so against even getting a dance in the beginning.

  “Deeper now, baby. Open that throat,” I say as I start pushing past that natural barrier. I adjust my position so my booted feet are planted on either side of her. Then I hold her head with both hands and start fucking her the way I want to fuck her pussy.

  I groan as I slide fully inside of her. The minx wasn’t kidding. She’s deep-throating me like a goddamn porn star, and I can’t help but wonder if she learned how from all the kinky videos she watches. I’ve never been so grateful porn exists than I am in this moment.

  She reaches up and gently squeezes my balls, and I almost blow right fucking then. “Jesus Christ,” I say through gritted teeth as I yank back. We’re both breathing hard as hell, but I’m doing my damnedest to get myself under control. “You wanna play, baby? Let’s play.”

  I pull her up and set her on the arm of the couch, pushing her end table out of the way with my foot to give me more room to maneuver. I shove my coveralls and boxer briefs down past my ass, but not before I grab a condom from the back pocket and sheath myself in record time. I want inside this woman so bad I can’t fucking think.

  Placing my hand in the center of her chest, I push until she’s angled back with only her shoulder blades braced against the back of the couch, then roughly shove her legs apart. “Hold them up, just like this.” I show her how to hook her arms under her knees and give me access to everything I want. She complies, and I stare at her glistening pussy, pink and swollen and slick with her juices. Fuck me, I don’t think I’ve seen a prettier cunt.

  “Please, Chance,” she pleads. “I want to come. Make me come.”

  I give her a light slap right on her pussy. She jumps and cries out, then again when I pinch each of her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. “You don’t get to decide what I do and don’t do, Jane. Do you?” I ask with a little twist.

  Her back arches on another cry, and the words “I’m sorry” tumble from her lips over and over. I release her nipples and lean forward, one hand bracing against the couch and the other gripping her jaw to force her to meet my steely gaze. “You’re not sorry yet, Jane, but you will be. You want to come so bad? I’m gonna make you come until you can’t handle it anymore. Until you’re begging me to stop.”

  She bites her lower lip, teeth sinking into her plump flesh. It takes every ounce of control I have not to claim her lip for myself and suck on it like a piece of hard candy. I have a feeling I’d lose my focus and start exploring her in ways that don’t fit this particular script. And I’m really liking this script.

  Standing straight again, I strum her clit, fast and furious, and watch her as she chases her orgasm. Her moans and whimpers make me hard to the point of pain, my balls like heavy stones ready to explode, but I grit my teeth and force myself to hold out.

  Sweat makes her skin glow; her breaths steadily get shorter. It takes less than thirty seconds for her to fall the first time. Her jaw drops open on a silent scream, her climax momentarily cutting off her ability to draw in air or make a single sound. Those brown eyes I find so captivating briefly roll back, showing me only the whites, like a woman possessed, and I know it’s not far from the truth. It’s a thing of fucking beauty, and I want to see more of it.

  “Again,” I command and immediately start rubbing her clit. A tiny squeal of surprise escapes her, and she impulsively tries to push my hand away. “Oh, I don’t think so.” I throw her hands back and give her another sla
p on her sex.

  Jane yelps and pouts at me, but I can see the playfulness dancing in her eyes. She’s loving this every bit as much as I am.

  I hold her legs with one arm and push them back to expose more of her ass. Then I let my free hand fly. Alternating cheeks, I spank her, turning that flawless complexion a dusky red. Her curses, muttered through clenched teeth and full-body flinches, have melted into soft moans and obedient stillness. It fills me with satisfaction and a strange sense of pride to watch her react so beautifully. I get the feeling she doesn’t have much experience, if any, with her particular brand of kink, and though I’m not getting too extreme, I’m not taking it easy on her either.

  Her eyes are almost black, lids at half-mast as she stares up at me with a look of unabashed hunger. Unable to prolong our mutual pleasure any longer, I end her punishment and arrange her into the original position.

  “You move,” I say, “or try to stop me again, and I’ll make you wish you hadn’t. Understand?”

  She nods in urgency. “Please. I’ll be good.”

  I answer with a grunt that says I’ll be the judge of that. “And if you’re good, what is it you think I should give you as a reward?”

  “Your cock,” she says without hesitation. “I want you to fuck me. Hard and deep.”

  Fuck, she’s killing me. Abso-fucking-lutely killing me. I fist my cock and slide it through her soaking pussy lips, teasing her clit with my sensitive head. It’s utter torture, but I refuse to let her know that. As far as she’s concerned, I can do this all damn day. Her hips writhe, and I know she’s trying to get me to slip inside her. I slap her inner thigh and tell her to hold still.

  “You want me to use your body as my little fuck hole? To fuck you so hard you’ll feel me every time you touch your pussy for the next week and wish I was here to do it all over again?”