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The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #17)

Cain

I lean my face down near hers, my eyes pinning her with fury. “Do you want it so bad you’ll just jump in the next guy’s bed?”

She shakes her head emphatically, those blonde curls flying back and forth. “No… I only want you.”

I give a bark of a skeptical laugh and start pulling her away from the bar, through the crowd and out the exit door. When the night air hits us, I hiss at her, “You’re getting in your car and going home.”

Sloane steps off the slate paver outside the door and digs those heels into the dirt. Her arm jerks free, and she says, “I’m not going home.”

“Well, you’re not going back in there,” I flatly tell her.

“Then take me out here,” she whispers.

Every cell in my body swells with lust, even as a fissure of anger ripples through me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I sneer at her, trying to shame her for her wanton ways, but Christ… I want her so damn bad.

“With you,” she says earnestly. “Only you.”

I take a deep breath, and I have to ask, “Is this a setup?”

In the glow of the light outside the Silo door, I can see her cheeks turn red. But she looks me straight in the eye, “Yes. Bridger’s idea to spur you into action. I went along with it.”

“Fuck,” I mutter as I look back toward The Wicked Horse.

That asshole. Putting temptation right in front of me, knowing damn well I’ll let my cock speak its own mind.

“So, you want me to just fuck you out here?” I put enough of a shaming sneer in my words to have her blushing again.

“I’d prefer you take me back to your house, but if all I can get of you is out here, then yes. Wherever you want. However you want it.”

I might have been good had she said something different. I might have even had the balls to walk away from her sexy body and yearning eyes.

But however I want it?

Unfortunately, I want it hard and fast, and I want it right this fucking minute. My options are limited, and I quickly weigh them.

Back into The Silo where I can pull her into the supply room again.

Or even better to possibly shame her, right into one of the rooms so I can fuck her for the entire club to see, and then walk away from her.

But no, those aren’t right either.

Because the way in which I’m about to sacrifice my principals demands privacy.

So I take Sloane’s hand and lead her around the side of The Silo. I walk her halfway around the circular outer structure, until we are in absolute darkness with nothing around us.

Turning her from me, I have her face the concrete building. Grabbing both of her hands, I place the palms against the staves. I step into her backside, press my lips to her ear, and whisper, “I can have you any way I want?”

She takes in a shaky breath and nods. “Yes.”

Dropping my hands, I take the edge of her skirt and pull it over her hips where it hugs her waist and stays out of my way thanks to the miracle of spandex. I tilt my head to the right and look at her in the glow of the moonlight.

No fucking underwear.

Goddamn perfect.

I drop my hand to that sweetly rounded ass, push my middle finger down in between her cheeks, and rub my finger along the seam. She moans and jerks against me.

“Can I have your ass tonight? Would you give that to me, sweet Sloane?”

She chokes out a half sob, half moan and murmurs, “If that’s what you want?”

My cruel, black heart… the one that’s still hurt and betrayed, gives a soft laugh that borders on evil. “Nah… that was something special we might have had, but I’m just not that interested in it anymore.”

Which is a fucking lie. If I had some lube, I’d so take her ass, but without it, I don’t want to risk hurting her. And besides… that would take time and I don’t have that luxury. This is going to be a hard, fast, impersonal fucking so I can give some relief to my balls, which have been squashed into knots since first locking eyes on her tonight.

I pull my head back and angle it further to the side so I can look at Sloane’s face. She has her cheek pressed up against the side of the wall and there are unshed tears pooling.

And damn if I don’t feel guilty that I just hurt her feelings.

“Shhh,” I shush her gently, dropping my right hand and bringing it around the front of her body. I slide my fingers between her legs, letting them brush back and forth lightly against her pussy, which is slick and inviting. “Don’t cry, Sloane. I’ll make this good for you.”

She blinks, and a single tear spills. I can’t fucking stand it, so I sink a finger into her and she moans sweetly.

“Yeah… that feels good, right?” I murmur.

My left hand goes to her strapless top. Pushing it down, I free her breasts and palm one. I rub the pad of my index finger over a nipple while my finger below presses into her deeper.

“What do you want Sloane?” I ask her nicely, imagining all the ways in which I could fuck her right now. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

She takes in a shuddering breath, lifts her cheek away from the wall, and cranes her neck to look at me. Her eyes still shining with wet, she says, “I want you to forgive me.”

My cock leaps in response to those words, or perhaps just at the thought of getting inside that tight wetness, but the asshole in me comes through. I prepare to tell her that’s never going to happen, but then she takes the wind out of my sails.

“Please,” she begs. “Please forgive me.”

With her nipple pinched between my forefinger and thumb and my finger lodged deep inside her, I think for a desperate moment.

Perhaps I should forgive her.

But the words are jammed deep in my throat.

So instead, I kiss her.

Sloane

When his mouth claims mine, I sigh deeply and melt in relief. He didn’t say the words I needed, but surely… this kiss… it means something, right?

His tongue rolls deeply in my mouth, my neck straining to keep the perfect angle so that he doesn’t break away. I push my hips back, seeking more contact with his body, and he groans when my ass rubs up against his erection.

Pulling his mouth away, breathing hard, Cain’s hands go to my hips. He takes a step back, pulling me along with him just a fraction. One strong hand goes to the middle of my back.

“Bend over,” he rasps out.

My lips still tingling from that kiss, and my blood racing through my veins, I do as he commands, knowing that the deeper I bend over, the more my ass is tipped just right to him. I brace my hands hard against the concrete wall.

For a moment, his hands are gone and I hear the unmistakable sound of his zipper coming down. I take in a deep breath and push it out roughly when I feel the head of his cock at my entrance. He pushes in slightly, curses under his breath, and his hands are back at my hips.

My fingertips dig into the concrete wall, and I close my eyes tight.

With a roll of his hips, he slowly pushes into me. He doesn’t stop and slides in deep until his pelvis is pressed against my ass and the zipper to his jeans digs into my skin.

“Oh, Christ… Sloane,” he mutters, his breath huffing out over my upper back.

He feels so good.

So very right.

“Cain,” I murmur, hopefully conveying with that single word what this moment means to me.

Holding me steady at my hips, Cain pulls back and sinks back into me, his cock dragging against every sensitive nerve I have and producing a full-body shudder.

“You like that?” he asks gruffly.

“God, yes,” I say on a moan. “Do it again.”

“Greedy,” he mutters, but I can actually hear a smile on those words.

Pulling out, he slides back in with exquisite care. He does it again, and again, not seeming to be in a hurry. I’m not in a rush either, wanting to savor every single moment of him being locked inside me. This may be my last chance, and I don’t want to forget anything.

Cain pulls out. With a rough jerk against my hips, he slams in, the slapping of our skin breaking the quiet night.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans and picks up the pace. I drop my face and stare at the ground, the tips of my red heels peeking up at me and my breasts swaying with the motion of his increased thrusting.

I rotate my hips, try to draw him in deeper. My breathing becomes shallow and labored, my body tightening as I race closer to orgasm. And then Cain hunches his body over me. He slides one hand around my front, going between my legs. His fingers pluck at my clit while he tunnels in and out of me. The other hand comes up, circles around my neck, and he pulls me up slightly.

Placing his lips near my ear, without ever missing a beat of his pumping cock, he murmurs. “Not going to lie, Sloane. I missed fucking this pussy.”

While his voice rumbles richly, the words are designed to let me know that the sex is the only thing he’s interested in about me. That cuts deep, yet I can’t seem to find my own voice to deny it. I want to call him a liar and tell him we had so much more, but every time he hits me deep, my brain starts to get fuzzier and fuzzier.

He keeps talking, a weird mix of sexual heat and frozen taunts.

Not sure I ’ll find better than this, but one can hope.

I ’m going to come in you so deep, you’ll be feeling me for the rest of your life.

And my absolute favorite, I’ll hate myself for it, but I’ll jack off to this memory of tonight for some time to come.

Finally, he shuts up, and it’s a good thing too because I want to slap him for ruining this. His bitter feelings and acerbic words are starting to cause darkness to well up inside of me. I almost have the fortitude to pull away, but then his finger presses roughly against my clit and he slams into me hard.

His voice breaks when he says, “Christ… you fucking destroy me, Sloane.”

My orgasm tears free, refusing to be quelled, and it explodes out in homage to the explosive passion between us, no matter how much hurt resides there. Cain pulls out, pushes back in roughly, and then starts to shudder as he comes. His forehead comes to rest on the back of my head, he grinds his pelvis against me, and he whispers, “Fucking destroyed.”

My tears well back up again. I blink once and they fall down my cheeks, stream past my jaw, and drip onto his hand. I suck in a breath and tell him, “I’m destroyed too.”

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Audio (narrated by Lee Samuels & Kirsten Leigh)

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The post The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #17) appeared first on Sawyer Bennett.

The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #16)

I tear my mouth away from Camille’s and actually push her back, as if she has me under some spell that needs breaking. Her eyes flash with disappointment, then confusion, and settle on anger. None of those emotions make me jerk her back into my arms, hand once again on her nape to hold her in place.

It’s purely because I want it—and nothing else—that has me kissing her again.

What the fuck are you doing, Jackson? She’s a goddamn princess. You are being paid to protect her, not ravish her. You could be fired for this. Hell, she’s royalty… you could be placed in the guillotine. Your career could be finished, and your father’s disappointment would sink to depths you’d never recover from. Everything about this is wrong.

All those voices are screaming at me to push her away again, because this is so very wrong.

And yet, nothing has ever felt so right.

Camille’s hands come to my chest, fingers bunching the cotton polo as she digs her fingers tight to hold on. As if she’s afraid I’m going to push her away again.

But I’m not.

I’m going to continue to kiss her.

That’s all.

Just kiss because that’s all she’s asked of me.

Unless she asks for more, then I’ll give it to her. If she doesn’t ask, maybe I’ll give it to her, anyway.

Camille moans low in her throat, and the sound goes straight to my balls. Once again my lips free from hers, but I don’t push her away. I move my hands to the sides of her head to hold her because she’s trying to step into me, trying to force me to kiss her again, but I hold her in place.

My breathing is ragged from just a mere kiss, and that freaks me out. But I manage to say, “There’s your kiss. Now you have it, and it needs to stop here.”

Some of the hardest words I’ve ever had to say in my entire life. Almost as difficult as telling my father I wasn’t reenlisting.

I’m not sure what to expect from Her Royal Highness. Contrary to my previous thoughts, she’s not spoiled nor does she act entitled, but I know she has a strong mind. I know she’s the type that once she sets her sights on something, she won’t give up without a fight.

So what exactly does she want now?

My question—or maybe my prayers—are answered when Camille releases her grip on my shirt and slowly drags her hand down my abdomen. I can feel every individual muscle leap beneath her touch, and I groan when she palms my cock through my jeans.

She’s not shy about it either, her head bent to watch what she’s doing to me.

I have no clue what her sexual experience is. She’s almost twenty-five. I doubt she’s a virgin, but she’s also been fairly sheltered. On the other hand, she had four years away at college, and well … lots of sex happens in college. Whatever her experience, right now she acts like a fucking pro as she strokes the length of my erection from the tip and down again.

I slap a hand over hers with a low grumble of dissatisfaction.

Not that I’m dissatisfied with what she’s doing, but because I want more and I’m too weak to say no. Rather than pull her hand away, I cover it with my own and force her to put more pressure on my dick. A small gasp escapes her mouth, and she tips her head back to look at me.

Her voice is husky and yearning. “In case there’s any doubt, you know I want more than a kiss.”

There’s a touch of bitterness when I reply, “Because you want to get laid. And if I don’t give it to you, you’ll get it somewhere else.”

She shakes her head hard, eyes clouding with denial. “The only one I want is you, Jackson. It’s only you that I want between my legs.”

A rush of air leaves my lungs, releasing an unknown tension. It was galling me that she might give it up to anyone.

Her desire to have me between her legs causes me to abandon all my principles and scruples. I’m reduced to a man who is putting his career second and his own needs first.

I sweep Camille up in my arms and move from the entertainment suite into the master bedroom. The queen-size bed runs along the length of the plane, more than enough room for me. Rather than toss her down, I gently set her on her feet and take a step back, turning for the door.

I close it behind us and flip the lock. Paul isn’t going to come looking, but better safe than sorry. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay away because at this point, I feel like I might murder anybody who would try to get between me and this woman.

“Take off your clothes for me,” I demand.

While Camille has come to know me some this past week and a half, she has no clue about the beast inside. I watch her carefully, making sure I’m not scaring her. I don’t want that, but the minute she palmed my cock, I knew those clothes were coming off.

Instead, I am mightily rewarded by simmering lust in her eyes, and her lips curl in a sexy little smile that says I accept your challenge.

Ever so slowly, Camille does a sensual strip of all clothing, but not in a teasing way. She’s deliberate and looks me straight in the eye the entire time as she drops each piece to the floor.

With every inch of skin revealed, every bit of lace peeled off, my heart races faster and faster. I almost swallow my tongue when she unhooks her bra and those heavy breasts are exposed, nipples already tight with anticipation. My mouth waters with absolute need to get them between my teeth.

And then she bends at the waist and shimmies white, lacy panties down those long legs. She kicks them off to the side and stands straight and proud.

She’s a goddess.

My perusal doesn’t start at her head but rather at the tips of her toes painted coral, up those tanned legs to the apex where dark golden curls wait for me to part them with my fingers and tongue.

Higher up past her curvy hips, back to those magnificent tits, and my throat is so dry by the time I reach her eyes, I’m not sure I can talk. Somehow, I manage to throw a few caveman grunts at her. “Get on the bed. On your back. Spread your legs.”

Camille sucks air in through her nose, nostrils flaring, but she doesn’t miss a beat. Stepping backward, she lowers herself gracefully to the mattress and swings her legs up. And fuck me, as she settles back on the pillows, she wantonly spreads her legs and even places her hands on her inner thighs, stroking them upward to her hips, up her stomach, and then lightly over her breasts before she stretches them above her head.

It’s an extreme act of wantonness.

I’m a goner.

“Do you really have condoms?” I ask, desperately wanting her to have them, and at the same time, desperately hoping she doesn’t because that would mean she was serious about a random hookup.

Camille shakes her head silently, a frown creasing her brow.

Strangely, I’m not disappointed. I don’t have any either, but that doesn’t mean we’re not going to get off.

I remove my clothes but a lot quicker than she did. I know our time is limited. Paul knows I’m having a “talk” with her about safety protocols for the rest of the trip so he’ll stay away, but a flight attendant might come to see if Camille needs anything.

When I’m fully naked, I take my cock in hand and stroke myself. Camille gasps, eyes flaring wide in shock—guessing she’s never seen that before. She then narrows right in on my hand to watch me intently.

“We don’t need condoms to make each other feel good,” I say, setting the tone that we won’t be having any penetration today.

My intent is to use my mouth to get her off, and that’s okay by me because I fucking love oral sex. Love a woman’s clit and how it can tear her apart with just the right touch. It’s my favorite part of a woman’s body. A fucking magic button.

But I don’t know what Camille’s experiences are. While I don’t mind bullying her around a bit to take off her clothes and get on the bed, I’m never going to ask her to do something for me she doesn’t want to do. I’ll see what she’s willing to give, and if she just can’t give me what I need since we don’t have condoms, I have my own hand to take care of matters.

For now, though, I want to see her splinter apart.

I move to the bed, crawl over her, and settle back on my heels in between her legs. My cock juts out, and her eyes are pinned helplessly on it.

“Do you want to touch it?” I ask with a grin.

Her eyes shoot up to mine. She sees me smiling and grins back. “I want to lick it.”

F-u-u-u-ck. I wasn’t ready for that. I want it but didn’t think she’d go right there.

Camille doesn’t hesitate, pushing up on the pillows. She then swiftly moves to her knees before me so all she needs to do is bend over my lap and she’ll have the power to destroy me.

I stop her with a hand to her shoulder. “Not like that,” I say gruffly, although what man wouldn’t want it just like that.

“How, then?” she whispers curiously.

“Like this.”

I take her in my arms and deftly bring us down to the bed so we are face-to-face, our bodies pressed tight against each other, my arm wrapped around her waist. Her skin is warm and sweet smelling, my hard cock trapped against her belly. But for the moment—for just right now—I want to kiss her again.

I lean in, brush my lips against hers, and she sighs. Then I kiss her more deeply, her tongue reaching out to touch mine. It’s a slow, leisurely mating of our mouths, and it fills me with a sense of completeness no mere kiss has ever done before. While I want her more than I’ve ever wanted a woman, I would be okay just kissing her.

But we’ve already decided she’s going to give me more, so I roll to my back, taking her with me. She’s now fully on me, her legs spread, and if she were to raise to her knees, twist her hips a bit, she’d be able to take me in and ride. I grit my teeth because damn, that’s a hot fantasy, but it’s not going to happen today.

“Turn around,” I tell her. She lifts her head to look down at me in question. I explain more clearly. “Turn your body around, position your pussy over my mouth and your head over my cock.”

Camille’s cheeks flame, but she doesn’t question me or hesitate. She spins so fast, she almost clocks me with a knee, but before I know it, her legs are straddling me reverse style and her palms are pressed into the mattress at my hips. Her ass sticks up like she wants to be mounted—another fantasy that will have to wait—and she’s hovering so close to my cock, I can feel her breath. I close my eyes to get my bearings and open them again.

She’s definitely too far away from me, so with a quick grab of her hips, I pull her back and then down so that her mound presses hard right on my mouth. She receives an open-mouth kiss on her sensitive flesh.

Camille bucks and cries out. I squeeze her ass hard, pull my mouth back, and mutter, “Better keep it down, Princess. Paul will come in with guns blazing.”

She giggles before apologizing. “I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise.”

“More surprises to come,” I say and pull her back down, shoving my tongue deep inside. She squirms, doesn’t cry out but utters a groan that I swear makes the whole cabin shake.

I push her up a bit to free my mouth and make a suggestion. “Something inside your mouth might help keep you quiet.”

Once again, she giggles, and it’s not silly like a girl, but it makes me grin.

“Understood,” she says, and then I get no warning. She dives on top of me, taking my cock in deep.

My hips tilt up and my fingers flex into her ass again, most likely leaving bruises. I have to grit my teeth to stop from barking out a lustful moan, and I realize… she has some experience. She sucks on me hard, pulls back to the tip, and then laves her tongue all around it.

Christ… she’s absolutely going to destroy me.

The only way I know to get some semblance of control is to concentrate more on what I want to do than what she’s doing to me.

I give her a long lick, and she responds with a hard pull of her mouth on my dick. I’m man enough to admit that she’s going to drive me over the edge quickly, not just because of her talented mouth but because I’ve got her sitting on my face and I have to hold her tight since she’s squirming all over the place. The fact I’m driving her crazy is driving me crazy.

Well, that, and now she’s playing with my balls while she blows me.

I use my tongue, my lips, and my teeth. I lift and rotate my head to reach all the right parts, manage to get my lips around her clit and suck on it. I twist my neck and bite the inside of her thigh, causing her to yelp around my dick, but she never misses a beat. Just sucks and strokes and fondles, and I can feel my balls tightening.

I nibble at her clit before I lash at it hard with my tongue. Camille cries over my cock with her need to release, but she keeps on giving me the best head of my life. I want her to come and come now, so I press two fingers into her pussy and drive them in deep.

Beautifully, Camille comes—her entire body quakes, slick walls pulsing around my fingers. I don’t know if it’s her intention or a reflex from the power of her orgasm, but she takes my cock in so deep, I can feel the tip breach the back of her throat, and it’s all I need to tumble after her.

My ass cheeks squeeze hard as I explode, flooding her mouth. Even as she continues to quake with her orgasm, my fingers pumping inside her, Camille doesn’t leave my dick alone. She sucks and licks and takes every fucking drop.

Like I said… I knew she’d destroy me.

When our bodies come down off the high, my dick slips out of her mouth. She falls forward and collapses on my body, her wet pussy on my chest and her cheek resting on my shinbone. I stare at the cabin ceiling, my hand stroking her hips and back, relishing the softness of her skin that I have not had time to appreciate.

I glance over at the bedside clock and see that I have been gone from Paul’s presence for a good fifteen minutes. I checked my watch before I headed to the entertainment suite to talk to Camille.

Squeezing her hips gently, I say, “We need to get dressed and get back out there so we don’t arouse suspicions.”

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Audio (narrated by Rupert Channing & Samantha Cook)

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The post The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #16) appeared first on Sawyer Bennett.

The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #15)

Palms to my cheeks, cupping firmly, Carrick crashes his mouth down onto mine.

I gasp in surprise and then in pleasure as his tongue invades my mouth without invitation. This kiss is wholly different than what we shared in the gym, and it makes the one back in Faere look practically grandfatherly.

No, this kiss is all about passion and lust, and, within it, the desire for a meeting of not only the bodies but also the hearts.

My legs go weak from the intensity of what I’m feeling, but Carrick is quick and agile, and, without breaking his mouth from mine, his hands come under my ass, and he lifts me. My legs wrap tightly around his waist as he spins, moving us through the condo, but I have no clue in which direction.

I’m too consumed by the possessiveness of his kiss and how soft his hair feels against my fingers or how wildly my heart is slamming against my breastbone to notice much else.

All I know is that, at this moment, Carrick thinks me neither stupid nor a child, and while he may still be incredibly angry with me, he still wants me the way I want him.

Vaguely, I hear a loud bang, wood splintering, and I think to myself he must have just kicked my bedroom door open, but I don’t care. I can only feel demanding lips and hear a rumble of need that seems to be ready to erupt from him.

Or is that me?

I just know that it seems I’m falling down, down, down, and I think it must be my bed I land on, but what does it matter because, seconds later, Carrick comes down right on top of me.

Then his hands are everywhere, sliding under my shirt, dipping down to unsnap my jeans, all while his mouth works at me, continuing to brand me.

I’m disoriented, lost, and nearly hysterical when his mouth suddenly pulls away, causing my eyes to pop open. I almost cry out in dismay, but I’m rendered speechless by a demi-god I’m half in love with straddling my body and pulling his shirt over his head. It musses his hair when he pulls it free, making Carrick appear carefree and boyish.

Those eyes are luminous, but, for once, my attention isn’t captivated there. Instead, it moves down over his collarbones, his chest, and his stomach to golden skin and ripped abs with a trail of dark hair that leads down into his jeans.

He’s perfect.

A demi-god to the core.

Such utter fucking beauty that when his hands move to my t-shirt, I have an attack of shyness such as I’ve never felt before.

No, not just shyness.

Unworthiness.

“Wait,” I stammer, pushing his hands away.

Red fills his pupils, but he stills, tipping his head slightly and watching me with wariness.

“I just… I’m not sure…”

Carrick just stares. He hasn’t said a word since he kissed me, and now I think this is all a mistake. Why in the hell did I ever think someone as perfect as Carrick would ever be interested in me?

You’re stupid.

Selfish.

Idiotic.

A child.

Not a real woman.

A spoiled brat. Not attractive.

My body bucks against his, and my torso comes off the bed. Hands going to his chest, I ignore the warmth of his skin as I push him away.

Carrick takes my wrists, frowning, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, near hysteria in my voice. “You don’t want this. Me. You made that clear moments ago. I’m a child. Spoiled.”

My voice falters, but I spit it out because it’s the one that hurt the most. “Unattractive.”

“Fuck,” Carrick mutters, his expression one of self-loathing. “Finley—”

“No, this is a mistake,” I cut in, not able to handle the pity in his voice. “You’re a freaking demi-god, Carrick. I’m just a mere mortal and a childish one at that. You’ll end up being disappointed and—”

I’m not sure what happens, but everything goes gray, and the bedroom disappears. Then I feel my stomach flip as I seem to be spinning in a vortex of shadows mixed with light. There’s a weightlessness to my body until the next thing I know, my vision clears, my feet are firmly on the floor, and I’m standing naked in front of the full-length mirror set in the corner of my bedroom.

I flush, going hot all over as I see my reflection and Carrick standing behind me, also naked.

Where in the hell did our clothes go?

“Oh, God,” I moan, partly in horror and partly in fascination as Carrick stares at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a complete mess, some hanging over my shoulder, some trailing down my back, but it looks windblown, and, if I had to guess, Carrick just cycloned me naked and transported me across the room.

My knees almost buckle as he steps in close behind me, and I feel the obvious evidence of his desire against my back, but he does nothing more than press in lightly. It’s when he brings one arm around me to cup my opposite breast that I start to get dizzy.

Eyes fluttering closed, I can feel nothing but the way his palm curves around the underside of my breast and just holds it possessively.

“Look,” Carrick demands, and my eyes pop open to find his on me in the mirror. “Look at yourself.”

I’m afraid to, but I finally let my eyes cast down on the reflection of my body to where his hand is cupping me. It’s almost too much, that muscled arm crossing over me, his golden skin against my paleness, and I start to tremble.

His other hand comes to rest on my hip as he murmurs, “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Finley. It was harsh—the words I said—born out of anger, which was born out of fear for you.”

I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that until this very moment. I didn’t understand how much weight I’d attached to Carrick’s words or how much I needed him to at least respect me.

But to hear him call me beautiful does something to my soul because those aren’t just words. I hear it in his tone, and I see it right now as his eyes freely wander all over my exposed body, naked except for the one breast covered by his hand.

Dipping his head to bring his lips near my ear, his gaze now pinning mine through the mirror’s reflection, he murmurs, “I’m going to fuck you thoroughly now, and, after that, I hope there’s never a doubt in your mind as to how I see you.”

And… my legs do buckle and my sex clenches, and once again… I’m in Carrick’s arms for a brief moment until I’m under him on my bed again.

As he hovers over me, I hold his gaze for a perfect moment where I see nothing but adoration and desire, and I try to memorize it.

Then his lips are back on mine, kissing me deeply into submission. His hands seem to be everywhere, stroking, pinching, cupping, and then, oh God… delving. It seems like he has me bucking, squirming, and begging for hours, especially when his mouth goes where, in my ten years of adulthood, no man’s mouth has ever gone before.

It has to be magic, or maybe it’s because we have some tie through the fates, but Carrick makes my body sing an aria for him. He makes me orgasm, over and over and over again, until I don’t think I can take another one, and then he proves me wrong.

But if the gods strike me down right now, I’ll be happy. The moment he enters me with one hard, fluid thrust, I think my world shatters because everything I thought I knew about sex and passion and intimacy has become a sham.

With every stroke of his cock and his tongue, I fall farther and farther into a place that belongs only to him.

But what affects me the most is seeing Carrick affected.

My cool, detached, unemotional demi-god isn’t recognizable to me anymore. So many emotions register in his expression—from raging lust to almost painful tension with the need to release—and Carrick doesn’t hide a single one from me.

As his thrusts get faster and I feel myself building up again, he captures my eyes with his own, making it impossible to look away.

And then he finally plants himself deep—so incredibly deep that I feel him through to my soul—and I lose his gaze as he throws his head back and roars out his release. It triggers me, and I buck under him as a violent orgasm hits me unaware.

My eyes close, and a weird barrage of images flash before my eyes.

All of Carrick’s face.

A Carrick I don’t know.

Laughing at me.

Smiling with love.

Teasing me mercilessly.

Admonishing me gently.

Listening intently.

It feels like a rubber band is stretched taut between Carrick and me, and then something snaps into place. I’m not sure if this is a premonition of our future, but the overwhelming feelings that tie my heart to my body’s physical reaction have me crying out his name from the intensity of it all, and I forget all about those images and instead ride the quakes of pleasure that overtake me.

I vaguely feel Carrick’s mouth on mine again, kissing me through our orgasms as if to seal the experience as some sort of pact.

He gentles the kiss, letting me free-fall back from the explosion, then drops some of his weight on me, which is oddly comforting. Pressing his face into the side of my neck, he murmurs, “So fucking beautiful.”

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The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #14)

 

“Olivia… are you okay?” Garrett asks me and as I focus on his gentle gaze, I realize I don’t want his worry or his soft touch.

“I’m fine,” I say boldly, dropping my hand down to his pelvis. I press my palm up against his erection and feel well satisfied when he sucks in air between his teeth and pushes forward into my hand. “I want to feel better though.”

“I think I can do something about that,” he murmurs, placing his hand over mine and urging me to curl my fingers around him through the rough denim. I squeeze him not so gently and he groans. “Fuck… feels good.”

“Will feel better if we can get these clothes off of you,” I whisper, moving my hand up to unsnap the button his jeans.

Garrett grabs my hand, locking my fingers up in a firm grip. “Where’s your bedroom? I want some place I can lay you down, because this is going to take awhile.”

A shiver of excitement runs up my spine and I push past him to lead us back to the bedroom.

When I enter my bedroom, I release Garrett’s hand and walk over to my nightstand to turn on the table lamp. It washes the room in a soft, romantic glow… yet I have a feeling, what we’re getting ready to do isn’t going to be romantic at all. I suspect it’s going to be electric, hard and sweaty. Yes, lots of sweat.

Turning to face him, I have a moment’s doubt over the path I’m getting ready to take. He stands there watching me, his hands held loosely at his sides, his eyes staring at me hard.

“Changing your mind?” he asks softly. “Because it’s okay if you are.”

Shaking my head, I reach for the hem of my t-shirt to pull it up over my head, but he murmurs, “Wait.”

Stepping up to me, he brushes my hands away and says, “Let me.”

My hands fall to my sides but rather than grab my t-shirt, he reaches behind my head and works the ponytail holder loose from my hair. It falls down my back in a heavy cascade and after tossing the elastic on the nightstand, he runs his fingers through the waves.

“I love your hair,” he muses as his eyes watch the path his fingers are taking. “All these colors… just beautiful.”

“Not natural,” I feel the need to explain but he shrugs his shoulders.

“Beautiful all the same. It suits your free spirit.”

Oh, his words. They seduce me even further, because never has a man paid attention to my hair. He takes his time, sifting his fingers through my hair and letting it float back down around my shoulders.

“I wonder what you have on under here,” he contemplates as his hands move to the hem of my shirt. Lifting the material over my head, I go momentarily blind but I don’t miss the hum of approval in the back of his throat.

“Pink silk. Breathtaking,” he murmurs as he tosses my shirt to the floor. When I blink my eyes back open, I find him looking in hunger upon my breasts. His eyes glitter with appreciation and his hand comes up so that he can drag his knuckles over the swells. Electric pulses radiate from my skin as he touches me.

Dragging his hand down, he grazes over one of my nipples and I gasp from the shock of his touch. I can actually feel my skin pucker and tighten from that light brush.

I watch Garrett watching his own hand as he touches me. He skims the back of his hand over my breast and down to my stomach… all the way down until he reaches the button on my shorts. My pulse is racing and my breathing starts to go shallow in anticipation of his next move.

I fully expect him to divest me of my shorts, but he keeps traveling south until he turns his wrist and slips his hand right in between my legs. He cups me gently, digging the heel of his palm in just a tad. “So warm,” he murmurs.

My breath rushes out from between my lips and I suck a shaky one back in. His movements are so slow… so deliberate and gentle. Not what I expected from this big, dynamic man standing in front of me.

With this hand resting between my legs, Garrett leans in and gives me a slow, open mouthed kiss that I feel all the way down to my toes. But it’s brief and he pulls his hand away along with his lips. Stepping back from me a foot, he pulls his own shirt over his head and drops it to the floor.

My mouth goes dry over the physical perfection standing before me. Yeah… he’s a professional athlete and all, but damn. The man is rock solid with rolling peaks and valleys of muscles that my fingers itch to touch. The word “Strength” is tattooed over his right rib cage in big, dark gothic letters, and that is an apt word to describe him. He has tribal tattoos over his right shoulder and the outer edge of his bicep.

Garrett’s hands go to the button of his jeans, and my hands involuntarily come up to unsnap my own.

“Don’t,” Garrett commands as he watches me. A playful smile comes to his lips. “I’m going to finish doing that but I want to get my clothes off first. I don’t want anything stopping me once I get started with you.”

Oh, geez. My knees wobble over the thought of what he’s going to do to me. But I do as he asks and let my hands drop back down. I watch as he squats down to untie the laces of his boots, then as he stands back up to kick them off. Even watching as he pulls his socks off is sexy as hell for some reason, because the man moves with confidence and grace. Just like I know he does on the ice.

Then I get all twitchy as Garrett finally pops the button on his jeans and lowers his zipper. I’ve gotten a good idea of what lies beneath, because I can see it bulging nicely against the denim and I had my fingers curled briefly around it not long ago.

But nothing prepares me as he reaches into the opening and pulls his cock free of the zipper… giving a smooth stroke with his palm, before he releases it and pushes his jeans the rest of the way off. Bending over, he quickly grabs his wallet out of the back pocket and pulls a condom out. He tosses it on the bed and drops his wallet to the floor without a backward glance.

“I like having your eyes on me,” Garret says and my eyes snap up to meet his gaze. I swear I can feel electricity snapping and crackling in the air between us and his look is so sensual, I almost feel like there’s a magnet that wants to pull me across the brief expanse of carpet to him. I want to press up against him tight and rub myself over every inch of his skin. I want to touch him… squeeze and stroke, and damn… even my mouth waters with thinking about taking him in my mouth.

“God, I’d love to know what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours,” Garrett mutters as he steps up to me and his fingers go to the button at my shorts once more. “The look on your face right now… as you look at me.”

“I just… you’re just… your body is just stunning,” I stutter out hesitantly.

His lips curve upward and I see a flash of teeth before he leans down and kisses me softly. When he pulls back, he says, “You’re the one that’s stunning, Olivia. I can’t wait to see if you taste as good as you look.”

A tiny groan pops out of my mouth and Garrett chuckles as he opens up the fly on my shorts and starts to push the material down past my hips. He squats down before me and my hands come up to rest on his shoulders while he has me lift one leg after another to get them off of me.

As Garrett stands back up, his arms come up around the backs of my legs, wrapping tight under my ass and he lifts me up into his arms. My legs automatically wrap around his waist, even as he starts kissing me again.

Deep… mouths open, tongues searching again. His kiss is sizzling hot as he alternates between leisure swipes of his tongue or tiny nibbles against my lips. Spinning toward the bed, I can feel him raise a leg up and then we are both lowering to the mattress… all the way down until he’s laying hot and heavy in between my legs.

Garrett continues to kiss me… on my mouth, my jaw, my neck… and I can’t help when I flex my hips upward, grinding myself against him. Groaning, he pulls up from my mouth and peers down at me. His jaw line is hard, the muscles in his neck corded tight as he supports his weight above me with his arms.

“You drive me crazy,” he says with his teeth clenched. “No regrets tomorrow… right?”

I raise a hand up to stroke his cheek. “No regrets. I promise I want this.”

No, I need this, but I keep that to myself. He’d never understand all the reasons I need it so badly.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, Olivia. I promise you that,” he says and then scoots back a bit so he can lower his head to my breast. Garrett places an open mouth over the silk of my bra and sucks against my nipple through the fabric. My back arches off the bed, hungry for more. He doesn’t disappoint, reaching up to drag both of the cups down over the swells of my breasts. He tucks the material under then covers me with the palms of his hands. He kneads and squeezes gently, all while he devours his own actions with hot and greedy eyes.

Lowering his head back down again, he starts to kiss my swollen flesh, licking at my nipples and rubbing the scruff on his face against my skin. It’s a riot of feelings, causing a riot of emotions to course through me. I feel achy and hot, stretched tight like a rubber band.

“Need to taste you more,” Garrett murmurs against my skin, then he gently bites at one of my nipples causing me to gasp over the sensation.

Inching down my body, Garrett licks and kisses his way across my stomach. He never hesitates when he reaches my panties, merely hooking his fingers in them and dragging them down my legs. As he pulls the silk off of me, his lips nip and bite at my skin… on my thigh, the side of my knee… an ankle. It feels like he has a hundred points of touch against my body at once and it makes me dizzy with lust.

I’m stunned when he pulls my panties free of my ankles, then rubs them thoughtfully across his lips for a moment while he stares down at me… almost as if he’s contemplating the best way to ravage my body.

“Think I’ll keep these,” Garrett says with a sly grin and tosses the panties down on top of his pile of clothing on the floor.

I start to protest, because those are one of my favorite pairs, but Garrett places his hands on the insides of my thighs, and the words dry in my mouth. He eases my legs further open, his eyes dragging down my body. “I think it’s time to see if you taste as good as I think you do,” he murmurs, his palms now sliding up my legs.

I’m not sure I can handle this. I feel coiled so tight that I’m afraid the minute he touches me, I might explode up off the bed. My body trembles as he lowers himself down, using his fingers to spread me wide before him.

He glances up at me once as his face lowers toward me and he gives me a soft smile. I return a tremulous one and then my eyes flutter closed, my fingers gripping into the comforter for leverage.

It’s coming… I can feel his warm breath against me, then… yes… oh, my God, yes.

His mouth closes over me, so hot… so damned good.

A groan that sounds like the roar of a rocky avalanche tumbling down a mountain tears free and my hips press upward, seeking more.

And he gives it to me. With an answering groan against my aching flesh, Garrett uses his tongue in ways I never even knew existed. He circles around me gently, sometimes plunging deep within… other times fluttering it against me like a hummingbird’s wings.

So fucking amazing.

I risk a peek down my body, past my breasts that are pushed up high from the material of my bra still wedged underneath, and see his dark head bobbing slightly between my legs, his tanned hands spread wide to hold me open.

It’s almost more than I can bear, and when he latches onto me, and starts to suck, it’s my undoing.

“Oh God,” I moan out loud as my body surrenders to climax. For a brief moment… I pretend that the force of my orgasm as it rumbles through my body chases away every bit of the illness circulating from within and as I float back down to earth, I imagine for a peaceful moment that I am clean and whole.

Garrett starts kissing his way back up my body again, and when I open my eyes, I see pride on his face for making me feel so good. No… that wasn’t just good. It was amazing, and even though my limbs are weak with satisfaction, I want to wear that same look that he has right now. I want to make him feel just as good.

Raising my hands, I bring them to his chest as he hovers over me. “Get on your back,” I tell him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and a slow smile curves upward. He gives me a subtle nod and then rolls off to lay beside me. I sit up from the bed, feeling a little dizzy but I know that’s leftover orgasm side effects and flip a leg over him to straddle just above his waist.

Placing my hands on the mattress beside his head, I lean over and bring my lips to his. He opens for me and I give him a deep kiss. Pulling back, I rub my nose along his and murmur, “That was amazing. Thank you.”

Garrett’s hands come up to smooth along my butt, and down my thighs. “Trust me… that was absolutely my pleasure. I loved making you come like that. And yeah… you taste as good as you look.”

My cheeks heat up but that’s nothing compared to the lava like feeling within my veins. I give him another quick kiss and scramble backward, grabbing the condom that’s been laying at the end of the bed. I fumble with it briefly, mainly because Garrett uses my distraction to put one hand between my legs where he strokes me softly. I have to actually bat him away, or I’ll never get the damn thing open, and he laughs at me darkly.

Finally… I pull the condom out. Finally… I get a good, up close look at his shaft. It’s huge… but then again, he’s a big man. It’s beautiful… long, thick and dark with the life force that has swollen it to such proportions.

Pinching the tip, I roll it down his length, squeezing him at the base when I have it firmly in place. I look back up at Garrett briefly, and his eyes are dark and hooded… filled with lustful eagerness.

It only takes me a moment to raise my body, take him in hand and start to lower myself on to his cock. His oral ministrations and mind blowing orgasm have left me well prepared, and I take him in with only a slight sting.

Lower… lower… and still lower yet, I sink onto him slowly until I’m sitting flat against his pelvis. A gurgled sound comes out of his throat and his fingertips dig into my thighs.

His gaze is pinned down to where we are joined and I find I need his attention.

“I want to make you feel as good as you made me,” I tell him as I start to rise up.

His gaze reaches up to mine, and there’s no smile there now. Only wild and carnal need for me to finish him off.

I sink back down onto him and he gasps, his eyes rolling back briefly before they return to me. “Mission accomplished,” he says tightly. “It already feels fucking amazing.”

Yeah… I think I need a little more than that. I want to drive him crazy with feelings, so I pick up my pace, raising up and sinking back down with a little more force. I move over him, rolling my hips on the down swing, going faster and faster.

“Yes,” Garrett whispers, his big hands framing my hips to help grind me down against him.

Soon, his own hips are in on the action, lurching up from the bed to meet me thrust for thrust. Sounds such as I’ve never heard come from a man before pour out of his lips. He groans, and growls and curses.

Faster, and faster, and faster, we go. I ride him hard as the muscles around his neck and chest tighten. I feel a second orgasm starting to roil in my lower belly and in a mindless fit to chase that pleasure, I grab one of his hands and thrust it between my own legs. Garrett doesn’t need any more encouragement than that, and he starts to slide his fingers against me.

“Give it to me,” he demands, his finger working me faster.

I bounce up and down on his cock and a bead of sweat rolls down my temple. My breathing is labored and my thighs are aching, but I don’t stop. I never want to stop.

In a massive rush, my orgasm hits me hard and my body starts to spasm. “Oh, shit,” I mumble, then Garrett is thrusting up into me hard, both hands back at my hips to slam me back down forcefully one more time.

He throws his head back, his chin raising to the ceiling and he lets out a roar of release, as tremors quake through my own body. Garrett’s hand shoots out and grabs me by the back of the head. He pulls me down hard against his body and smashes his mouth against mine. Our teeth knocked together, then his tongue is plunging into my mouth in a brutal kiss as we both let the fading rumble of our climaxes melt away.

He pulls back slightly on my hair, raising my lips from his. “Fuck,” he pants with his mouth just inches from mine. “Fuck that was good.”

I giggle and then collapse onto his chest, feeling the sweat from both of our bodies mingling. “Amazing.”

“God, I think you killed me,” he mutters, and even though I can’t see his face, I can feel the grin.

“What a way to die,” I say, and even as the words are out of my mouth, my reality comes crashing back into me. Even as my body still quakes and my heart still races, I remember that this moment with Garrett is fleeting and nothing but a temporary respite.

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The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #13)

“She’s a caterer, not a servant,” she grits out.

Shrugging carelessly, I walk up to her. Her blue eyes sizzle with electric menace. “Nope. Your tone of voice suggested servant. You really do have it down quite nicely… the way you’re able to look down your nose at everyone.”

“I most certainly don’t look down my nose at everyone,” she fumes.

“Most everyone,” I concede as I lean in toward her, giving her a wink and a cheerful smile. While I may not know Macy all that well, I do know her well enough that she can’t stand when I’m in a happy mood while baiting her.

“You’re an asshole, Cal,” she says tightly, her cheeks turning pink again.

“You’re a drama queen, Macy,” I mimic her tone.

“Little boy playing in a big man’s world,” she says with menace as she steps in toward me and jabs a finger in my chest.

“Loose tart humping anything that moves,” I volley back at her maliciously, and I swear her eyes go nuclear with fury. Oddly… that makes my cock start to stiffen.

“Bah,” she says mockingly, but I don’t fail to notice the way her chest is rapidly rising and falling. “At least I know how to satisfy. I bet you wouldn’t know your way around a woman with a medical textbook and Dr. Ruth giving you play-by-play instructions.”

“You satisfy?” I say with a dubious laugh. “Didn’t you hear the part where I said you were frigid?”

“I’m sure I could produce a better orgasm than your little limp, needle dick,” she says with another sharp jab into my chest.

And okay… that does it. No one jabs me in the chest, makes a genuine insult to my dick, and gets away with it. Especially not someone like Macy Carrington.

My hand shoots out so fast that Macy actually squeaks in surprise. “Dare you to call it a fucking needle dick now,” I taunt her.

My fingers circle her hand and I jerk it hard toward my crotch, pressing her palm against my cock that’s growing larger by the hate-spewing second.

She gasps, not in surprise but rather in pleasure, and her fingers curl reflexively around my shaft. She squeezes me hard, and that’s all it takes for me to go fully erect.

I clamp my hand down over hers forcefully and force her to move her hand up and down my cock. “Admit it’s not a needle dick,” I rasp out as I urge her to create more friction against me.

Macy’s eyes continue to glow, but this time, it’s not filled with ice but rather erotic heat. She even moans a little, but then she whispers with a devious grin, “Needle dick.”

I stare at her a moment, her eyes intent with challenge while she continues to stroke me through the khaki material.

Game fucking on.

I give her a sinful smile of my own. “I’m so going to make you eat those words,” I tell her before I bring my other hand up behind her head and pull her to me. My lips crush hers in a brutal kiss meant to conquer and dominate. I push her mouth open with mine and shove my tongue inside, relishing another tiny moan she gives me along with a harder squeeze on my cock.

Fuck, she feels good.

Lips silky soft, breath minted sweetly, and her delicate fingers giving me a damn good hand job at the moment. I’ll stop kissing her if she just takes back the “needle dick” insult. If she admits I’ve got a glorious cock, which I know I do, I’ll let her go.

But she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she kisses me back hard. I don’t have time to bemoan the loss of her hand on my dick because just as soon as she releases me, both hands come to my shoulders and with a little jump, she’s in my arms and her legs are wrapped around my waist. The white sundress she’s wearing hikes up high, and I know this because my hands come up to grasp onto a toned ass with silky, smooth skin. My fingers arch inward and fuck… she’s not wearing any underwear. My fingers graze slightly against warm, smooth pussy, and my own cock starts to throb in pain.

“Pantry,” Macy gasps into my mouth, except with her lips against mine it sounds like “Mam-free”. Even though most of the blood has drained from my brain down to my erection, I understand what she’s saying and I pull away from the kiss to look around.

“Right there,” Macy says as she inclines her head past my shoulder. I turn swiftly, still holding her tight under her ass, and see a wooden door beside the large, sub-zero fridge. Two strides… I’m there and one hand has it quickly opened while the other holds my prize pressed hard against me.

When I step inside, Macy reaches back with one arm and pulls the door behind us, flicking on a switch by the door. A single light overhead illuminates a huge ass pantry filled with more food than could possibly feed this family in times of nuclear war. But that’s the only thought I give to my current location because Macy gyrates her hips and pushes her sweet, wet core hard against my cock.

“Get your pants open,” Macy commands as she presses her breasts against my chest hard and wraps her arms tightly around my neck. She tilts her head to the side and bites my earlobe forcefully.

My head starts swimming with a lust so tormenting, it borders on sadistic. I start sucking in hungry lungfuls of oxygen, spinning toward the closed door and pinning Macy up against it. Her arms tighten around my neck as I release my hold on her ass, my fingers scrabbling to get my button and zipper open while she squeezes me hard with her legs.

“Hurry,” she urges me with a whispered moan.

“Fuck,” I pant out when my fingers slip off my zipper but then make purchase again. I manage to get my shorts opened and pushed down past my balls, my dick so hard it’s pointed skyward. It’s pointing right at Macy’s bare pussy hovering just a few inches above it.

While my instinct is to ram my way inside of her, I dial it back a notch, and instead drag a finger through her wet folds. Macy jerks in my arms, moaning, and that causes my balls to throb with need. I thrust a finger into her, pull it back, and then thrust two in its place, pleased to find her drenched already.

“Come on, Saint Cal,” she taunts me through breathless pants. “Skip the foreplay… you can feel I don’t need it.”

I’m sick of her fucking jabs at me. I’m certainly no fucking saint, just as she sure as shit isn’t the frigid bitch I’ve been calling her.

She doesn’t want any foreplay?

She just wants to be fucked?

Fine.

My hands come to Macy’s waist and I slam her down hard while my pelvis thrusts up, causing my cock to bury deep inside her wet warmth. Even as wet as I felt her to be, I know that had to sting a little because I, in fact, do not have a needle dick.

“Oooooohhhh.” Macy lets out a long, tortured moan.

“Where’s your needle dick, now?” I growl in her ear just before I pull my cock out of her, only to slam it right back in again. I tunnel into her tight pussy so hard that the entire pantry door shakes from the force of it, the back of her head bouncing against the wood.

I cut a quick glance to Macy’s face, see her in the throes of immense pleasure, and I’m satisfied it didn’t give her a concussion.

I don’t need Macy to give me a concession now. I don’t need her to apologize for her slander against my cock. That moan she gave me when I pounded home was all I needed for vindication.

So I start to fuck her up against the pantry door, making sure that she won’t ever forget the length and girth of my dick.

And Christ… she fucking feels amazing. Tight. Wet. So fucking warm.

“That’s the way,” she whispers in my ear before baring her teeth and biting the outer edge again.

Jesus… that hurts, so I slam into her harder.

She answers by slipping her hands into the collar of my shirt and digging her nails into my shoulders, and damn… I’m pretty sure she drew blood.

I fuck her harder, to show her who’s in charge, and then I’m completely blown away because not thirty seconds into our fuck fest, Macy’s body stiffens in my arms and her muscles contract hard around me as she starts to come. She cries out, digging her nails deeper into my skin, and oh yeah… it turns me on that she apparently likes it a little rough and at how fast she just came.

Lurching, slamming, thrusting upward, I fuck her, and fuck her, and fuck her up against the pantry door, not giving a damn if anyone is in the kitchen and can hear us. I chase the end of the orgasm rainbow and with one tremendously deep push, I start to unload inside of her.

A tortured groan bubbles up from my throat, my forehead falls to her shoulder, and my body spasms from the intense pleasure overload. I seem to come for an eternity in what may be the longest orgasm in my life as well as most certainly the quickest, hardest fuck of my life.

I relax my grip from Macy’s waist so I can lower her to the ground but rather than release her hold around my hips with her legs, she tightens them. Lifting my head from her shoulder, I look at her.

She stares at me with hot challenge. “Keep going.”

“What?” I ask, dumbfounded.

Macy does something then… something inside her pussy that causes her muscles to grip onto my half-hard cock and start massaging it back to life. She rotates her hips and grinds herself against me.

“Keep fucking me,” she commands.

Jesus Christ, this woman is something else.

Even as it’s on the tip of my tongue to deny her… to tell her that there’s no way I can go again so soon, she leans forward and sucks gently on my earlobe for a second, then murmurs in a sexy, raspy voice, “I want to milk your cock again.”

Fuuuuuuuck!

I become consumed with lust for this woman. Swelling fast and brutally hard inside of her, my hips involuntarily slam upward. She gives a husky laugh of triumph and praises me, “Just like that, baby.”

So I give it to her again… just like that.

Thrusting in and out of her with long, deep strokes.

Sweat pops out on my forehead, and I’m almost dizzy with how much I want to come again inside of her. Macy smells so fucking good too. It’s that damn, addictive shampoo I’m smelling because her cheek is pressed to mine and my harsh pants are ruffling her soft, red hair.

“Fuck me with your tongue,” Macy murmurs as her fingers drift up into my hair and give a hard jerk.

Groaning because I love a woman that talks dirty, I pull my head back and find her lips with my own. She immediately opens that sweet, wet mouth to me, and I do as she asks. I start to fuck her with my tongue.

We kiss deep and frantically, our teeth scraping against each other. Her tongue is confident… bold… it spars with my own in a fight that neither of us really wants to lose. My hips move faster and faster, creating hellishly sweet friction between my cock and her pussy. Macy moans. I groan.

Feels so fucking incredible.

With a sudden push backward, Macy lifts her lips and says, “Let me down.”

What? Fuck no.

I keep pounding into her with a feral snarl.

Her hands come to my shoulders, her legs unlatch from around my hips, and she pushes back at me again.

“Let me down,” Macy repeats, this time sternly and with such conviction, I immediately pull my cock out of her and let her slide out of my grasp.

“What’s wrong?” I ask hesitantly, almost fearing that she’s going to cry rape or something.

Instead, she surprises the shit out of me by grabbing at my waist and spinning us both around so the pantry door is now at my back. After giving me a hard push so my shoulder blades ram into the door, she drops to her knees and encircles my dick with her delicate fingers. She looks up at me, blinking through long eyelashes, and smiles. “I want to show you that I most certainly am not a frigid woman.”

“Huh?”

“I’m going to suck your cock, Cal,” she says simply. “Got a problem with it?”

“Fuck no,” I blurt out, flexing my hips so my cock slides through her grasp. Chuckling, she squeezes me maybe a little too hard, but I’m finding that Macy likes to dish out a little pain with her fucking, and it’s kind of a turn on.

Macy opens her mouth, her lips wet from our kissing, and sucks the tip of my cock into her mouth, which is wet from her juices and my semen. She lets her tongue wiggle on the underside, right at the base of the mushroomed head, right at that sweet spot that fucking drives me wild. She sucks me quick like a lollipop, and then pulls her mouth back. I come free with a resounding, “Pop”.

When she looks back up at me, for the first time, I see a bit of a serious hint in her eyes. “I know this will be the nicest thing you’ve ever heard me say about you,” she says softly. “But you have one beautiful cock. It might be the nicest I’ve ever seen.”

My lips curve upward as my hands come up to cradle her face. “So I’m not a needle dick, huh?”

She shakes her head with a smirk on her face. “Most definitely not.”

“You’re not frigid either,” I feel compelled to say. Because at this moment, I think Macy Carrington may be the hottest, most sexually stimulating woman I’ve ever been with in my life.

She gives me a nod of acknowledgment, and it’s clear that whatever is going on right now in this pantry, we’ve both agreed to let our snarky insults toward each other rest for a bit.

And suddenly, I’m back in her mouth, and she takes me really fucking deep. I can feel her throat tighten and constrict around the tip of my cock, the woman clearly having absolutely no gag reflex. I’m too long to fit all the way in, but she more than makes up for it with hard jerks and squeezes with her hand around the base of my shaft.

Christ, she’s an amazing cocksucker. Perfect, actually. Nice, deep pulls, lovely scraping of teeth at times, and she alternates stroking my cock and balls. My hands grip her head tight, and then I decide to see what she can really do. I start thrusting counter to her moves, making myself go deeper than she’s taken me so far, but Macy handles it like a champ. She moans as I fuck her mouth, her fingers starting to stroke that sensitive skin just behind my balls.

And yeah… that right there… not going to last long at all.

“Wait a minute,” I pant out as I try to pull her head away from me. She sucks harder, causing my eyes to roll back into my head for a moment. I give in to the sensation briefly, but then give a sharp tug against her hair. “Stop, Macy.”

Pulling my hips back, I slip out of her mouth, my cock immediately springing upward… reaching for the sky. “You need to slow down—”

She ignores me and starts licking all around the underside of my dick. My head falls back against the pantry door, and I stare up at the overhead light. That wicked tongue of hers laps at me. Then she takes me in her mouth again, giving a hard, suctioning pull against my flesh.

My eyes involuntarily squeeze shut, but I manage to croak out, “Macy… let me fuck you again. I want you to get off too.”

I actually feel her smile against my dick, and then she pulls away. “I’ve got it covered, baby.”

Eyes popping open, I look down at her. Really look down at her, past those beautiful lips that are red and puffy, and right down between her legs.

Where her one hand is buried… and moving.

“Are you fingering yourself?” I ask, astonished, and so goddamned turned on.

She nods and even though her dress is bunched up and covering most of her goods, I can slightly see her fingers rubbing circles over her clit.

“Fuck… fuck,” I groan. “Fuck, that’s sexy.”

With a quick, knowing smile, she leans forward and takes my cock in her mouth again, sucking me in deep. My hands come back up to her head and I resume my thrusting pace, keeping my head tilted to the side so I can watch her masturbating.

Without a doubt… Macy is a freak sexually, and that is exactly the type of woman that gets my motor revving.

Macy rubs furiously against herself and I fuck her mouth, admiring her more and more as she lets me down into her throat. This is the Best. Head. Ever.

Vibrations start buzzing all around my cock, and I realize that Macy is moaning.

I realize… Macy is coming, and I can feel it while she sucks my cock.

Thrusting just a bit faster into her mouth, I feel my own muscles in my lower back start to contract. I’m so fucking close and yet… I don’t want this to end. I wonder if she can get herself off again before I blow.

I try to slow the pace down, but Macy isn’t having any of his. She starts bobbing her head faster, creating a furious friction against my dick, her hand still stroking and squeezing me hard around the base. I actually jerk hard against her, lodging a bit deeper into her mouth when I feel her other hand come up and start massaging my balls.

Nope. She’s not going to keep playing with herself, preferring to give me her mouth, tongue, teeth, and both hands.

She moves against me faster.

Her fingers on my balls are slick with our combined juices and she skims them backward across that deliciously sensitive skin. She keeps going, right toward my ass, and I groan when I feel her tentatively push a tip to my tight hole.

“Don’t,” I groan, my ass cheeks clenching. I’ve never had that done before, and why I’m telling her “don’t” is beyond me, because the idea of it’s thrilling.

She insistently pushes against me, giving a little sob of frustration against my dick. That’s all it takes for me to spread my legs as wide as they can go with my shorts around my thighs and relax my ass muscles.

I get a moan of approval, and she slips a wet finger into my ass.

Holy fuck.

That’s—

That’s—

I can’t describe—

She crooks her finger and starts rubbing it against something inside of me. My hips jerk hard and my ass cheeks squeeze reflexively, this time trying to draw her deeper into me.

My orgasm immediately starts firing up and I actually stop thrusting against her, so intent on focusing on this new feeling of whatever the hell she’s doing to the inside of my ass. Macy doesn’t let up on me though, merely taking over and starting to bob fast against me, sucking hard… sucking deep. Stroking, stroking, stroking her finger inside my ass.

And then I’m coming so hard, I actually cry out in an almost painful release. Macy answers by pressing hard inside my rectum, and fuck… I actually orgasm again… I think… I’m not sure, but another wave of release speeds through me while she continues to suck every drop I give her down.

My knees start to buckle, and I reach a blind hand out to grasp onto a shelf to my left for support.

I realize my chest is heaving, and tingles of pleasure are igniting all over my body. My cock jerks in Macy’s mouth, and I actually groan in disappointment when she pulls her finger from me.

Then she pulls her head back and my cock… which is limp and lifeless right now… slips out of her mouth.

I’m utterly exhausted and spent. I want to sink to the floor right now and go to sleep for a thousand years. If I had the strength, I’d give Macy a pat on the head and tell her that’s the best fucking sex I’ve ever had, but I don’t think I can move my arms.

Macy, on the other hand, seems rejuvenated. She springs to her feet and gives me an amused smile.

“Agree I’m not frigid?” she asks sweetly.

I can only nod at her dumbly.

She leans in and grazes her lips over my cheek. Damn, her shampoo smells good, and I want to turn my face and bury it in her hair. But she pulls back swiftly and says, “That was fun, Cal. I don’t do repeats, but I think I might just make an exception for you. If you want to hook up some time in the future, just give me a call.”

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The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #12)

Coen wrenches his mouth away and presses his forehead to mine. His chest heaves, and my legs shake. “Why are you such an irritating pain in my ass?”

I open my mouth to argue, but he shakes his head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

And then he’s kissing me again, and I cling to him for dear life.

This is, without a doubt, the most bewildering yet exciting thing that’s ever happened to me in my life.

This man, who I pretty much despise but who I’m also heavily attracted to, seems to have the same draw to me.

And he’s gorgeous and domineering and grumpy, and for some reason, he makes me want to be impetuous right along with him.

I give myself grace—just a moment to honestly ask if I’m crazy for letting him kiss me—and then I decide I want to be crazy and see what’s on the other side.

My hand slides into his hair, fingernails scraping lightly along his scalp. His chest rumbles, and his hands slap to my ass, pulling me against his hard length as he brutalizes my mouth.

And then… he hoists me up, forcing my legs around his waist, and he’s walking.

Moving gracefully without once lifting his lips from mine.

He backs me right into a tree—thoughtful or not, the bark is smooth, so I’m guessing yellow birch, but I’m not about to pull away to verify.

With my body pinned against the trunk, Coen grinds against me, and a jumble of words fall from my mouth into his.

Oh God.

Yes.

Oh God.

Please.

My fingers tighten in his hair and I grip hard, causing him to hiss.

But he never stops kissing me or pressing what is an intimidatingly large erection into my core.

I’m hot, needy, on the verge of begging, and he’s been kissing me no longer than fifteen or twenty seconds at most.

Happening so damn fast.

Coen’s mouth moves from mine to graze along my jaw, feather down my neck, and then he bites me on the tender flesh just below my shoulder. I jerk in his arms, and he chuckles against my skin, except it doesn’t come across as amusement.

More like sinister promise, and I’m okay with that. For one reason only, and that’s despite him being a world-class jerk and my border enemy, he saved me from bullies today. He played it off and would deny it if confronted, but he heard the things Cici said to me, saw that she wasn’t going to stop, and he chased her off.

It pains me to admit, but this puts my nemesis in a gray area where I’m wildly attracted to him, even knowing he’s going to use all his resources to bring me down.

Is that what makes this more exciting?

Certainly, it makes it more fucking confusing.

No time to ponder that as Coen lowers my feet back to the ground, and I almost protest, but then his hands are at the button and zipper of my shorts. His fingers move fast, efficiently, and in the blink of an eye, his hand is down my panties.

“Oh,” I gasp, head falling back against the tree. He does no more than cup me, and I swear I can feel my heartbeat between my legs, pulsing against his hand.

Coen stares down at me with such a feral intensity, it makes me want to shrink away, even as my hips push insistently against his hand.

“Christ,” he mutters and I rock against him wantonly. His eyes blaze with what looks like both lust and irritation, and I understand it all too well. It’s exactly how I feel right now.

His hand squeezes me and I groan, but then it’s gone.

I start to cry out in true protest—hell, give me a sign, and I’ll march the picket line—but then my breath freezes as he falls to his knees. Gripping my hips, he presses his face to the juncture between my legs and exhales hot breath that seeps right through the fabric and into my skin.

Tipping his head back, he says, “Tell me to stop.”

I’m mesmerized by how beautiful he is kneeling before me, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him to stop. I have no clue what he even wants to do to me, but I’m going to find out. I give a tiny shake of my head and that’s all he needs. Coen yanks my shorts and panties down my legs. My hands flail out as I’m practically knocked off-balance, only to slam on his shoulders to steady myself.

When my matronly Bermuda shorts are at mid-thigh, I’m stunned beyond belief when Coen leans in, presses his mouth to my exposed sex, and runs his tongue straight up my slit.

“Fuck,” I scream in pleasure and astonishment.

Never has any man done something so wild and carnal to me.

His head tips back, and his eyes are so dark, they’re almost black. “I’m a kinky son of a bitch, Tilden. If you want to run, you better do it now.”

Do I want to run?

My brain hollers that I should, but my body remains stubbornly still.

He must take my hesitation as capitulation as he presses his face back into me, growling as he licks. His hands work to yank my clothes down my legs. They reach my ankles and he lifts a leg up, never once slowing his ministrations with his mouth. He roughly jerks off my tennis shoe, pulls my foot through the leg of my shorts, and then hikes it right up over his shoulder.

My face heats as I’m splayed before him, but he doesn’t pull back to look—merely dives in deeper with his mouth to lick and suck at me. I writhe and whimper and I almost break apart when he mumbles against me, “So damn sweet.”

“Coen…” I gasp as I pull at his hair, delirious from the sensation overload.

He grunts in response, lowers his other shoulder, and drags my other leg up and over. The man has me pinned against a tree, my legs over his shoulders, tongue against my clit, and when he adds a finger inside me, I flip out.

I buck hard against him, but his strength holds me in place. My entire body flushes hot—so hot I’m going to melt—and then his lips form around my clit, and he viciously lashes his tongue against me.

I cry out as pleasure bursts inside me, spreading outward in waves of bliss that curl my toes. My hands clutch onto his head as he continues to lap at me. My hips flex up and down, his mouth still dragging out tremors of pulsing euphoria in what will forever go down as the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.

Suddenly, I’m boneless, and but for Coen’s shoulders holding me up, I’d happily fall to the ground where I could just look up at the leaves and smile for a good hour or so while I reflect on what’s just happened.

Coen pulls one leg off, making sure it’s steady on the ground before doing the same to the other. I take a shaky breath as his mouth skims over the curve of my lower belly. “I knew you’d be a screamer,” he murmurs.

His head falls back, and when our eyes meet, I realize it’s the first time I’ve not seen what I can now pin as an ever-present, underlying anger. He looks wound tight, but he doesn’t look pissed about it.

Things would probably be okay if he’d stand up and kiss me. So I’d know that I didn’t just give in to lust so easily because there might be something there.

But he doesn’t do that.

He rises, and I put my hands back on the tree trunk for balance. Wetness glistens on his lips, and I almost combust when he licks at the lower one.

Coen’s gaze moves from me to the trees over my shoulder. A thoughtful expression softens his face and then a mischievous light glitters in his eyes.

Those lips that just destroyed me curl into an evil smirk, and he wipes his hand across his mouth. “Couldn’t have done that to you if you’d have cut the trees down, now, could I?”

Coen pivots on his foot and walks away, chuckling as he heads toward his house.

“Seriously?” I call after him, bending over to thread my foot back through my shorts.

I’m pulling them up as he turns his head slightly to yell over his shoulder, “We should have a bumper sticker made. Save a tree, ride my mouth.”

He laughs heartily at his joke.

Did he do that to me just to make a joke? Prove a point?

Was there even any attraction, or was he just putting me in my place?

“You’re an asshole,” I call after him, angrily zipping my shorts.

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The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #11)

I’m dying. My body is slowly incinerating and I won’t be anything but a pile of ashes when Linc is through with me.

The massage started out as I’d expected. He diligently worked my sore muscles until I was feeling loose and relaxed. The ibuprofen was helping and I was no longer one throbbing mass of painful nerve endings.

But the closer Linc got to my ass, the more I kept imagining him taking his fingers a bit further. What would it be like if he just dragged one finger down the middle of my ass cheeks? Or as he worked his way up my legs, what if he cupped me with his hand? Would he feel how hot I was for him?

I feel needy and displaced. My body is screaming for something, and I’m so afraid he’s going to reject me again.

I’ve asked him to touch me, but he’s gone perfectly still. I can’t see him but I still feel his hands lightly resting on my thighs. He’s not making a sound.

And then he’s gone, standing up from the bed. I almost cry out in frustration, tears starting to form over his rejection of me again.

But then I feel him grab my ankles and next thing I know, he’s flipping my body so I’m on my back. I look at him with astonishment and immediately take in the fact that his eyes are glowing with heat.

The towel is now under me and I’m completely exposed. Linc does nothing but rake his eyes up and down my body, and my nipples tighten in response. Then he takes his hands and puts them between my knees. He slowly pushes my legs apart until they are spread wide.

I am exposed before him and vulnerable. He stares at me for the longest time. His tongue darts out and licks his lower lip, and I feel like he’s just walked up to an all-you-can-eat buffet, staring at it in wonder. He leans over and places his fingertips in the curls between my legs, softly moving them back and forth. I think I might have a heart attack from the thrill of what he is doing.

“You want me to touch you here?”

I nod at him, afraid to speak and ruin this electrically charged moment.

He leans over me further and glides his hand up. He scrapes his knuckles over one of my nipples. “Here too?”

“Yes,” I whisper, trying not to squirm under his hand.

He crawls between my legs and moves his hand up to my throat. He strokes upward until his thumb crests over my chin and comes to rest on my lower lip. He rubs his thumb back and forth. “How about here?”

“Please.”

His face lowers, and when his lips are almost on me, he instead places his forehead against mine. “Maybe later I’ll kiss you.”

I don’t even comprehend what he is saying because he moves his body back down and quickly flicks a tongue over one of my nipples. My body isn’t my own anymore and my hips slam upward, trying to find some contact. But he’s kneeling between my legs, only touching my breast with the tip of his tongue. The rest of his body remains elusive to me.

Linc looks at me then, and my breath catches. His face is full of promise, that he is going to touch me in the most important place of all. A smile forms and he looks downright lecherous. My entire body clenches in anticipation of what he’s going to do to me.

With no hesitation, Linc moves off the bed and grabs a hold of my ankles again. He gives a sudden pull and I gasp as my body goes sliding until my butt is near the edge of the mattress. Linc falls to his knees as if he’s getting ready to pray. Instead, he pushes my knees further apart until I am spread wide open in front of him. He just stares at me in hunger, and I self-consciously feel my face burn in a weird combination of embarrassment and lust.

A sudden case of nervousness overcomes me and I try to push my legs back together. He pushes back gently with his hands and says, “Don’t be shy.”

I’m uncertain. I want him to touch me…with his hands, his mouth, his body. I want it more than anything but I’m suddenly chagrined that I’ve asked for it. I’ve never come on to another man like this in my life, and truth be told, it feels downright hypocritical of me. I feel like I’m using him.

His hands are resting lightly on my knees, his thumbs stroking the insides softly. “I’ll stop if you want me to, but I really want to make you feel good.”

Oh God. My heart lurches and my blood turns to fire. There’s no way I’m going to stop this gorgeous man kneeling between my legs. The tension leaves my legs and he knows I’ve submitted.

Linc takes my legs and drapes them over his shoulders. He wraps his arms under them, placing his hands over my stomach. Then he simply stares at me for a minute, and I hold the contact. I’m helpless to look away.

“Feel free to scream,” he says, a salacious smile sliding into place.

That’s the only warning I get before he brings his mouth down on me. No other foreplay. No soft kisses to warm me up. He goes in straight for the kill.

No scream issues from my mouth. Instead, I suck in a sharp breath of air and hold it. My eyes squeeze shut and I concentrate on the feel of him against me.

His lips are working me over hard. Then his tongue comes into play, and finally his fingers. I let my breath out in a loud whoosh, only to suck it back in and hold it again. I feel like if I breathe, it will get in the way of the sensations I’m feeling.

Linc is playing my body. He seems to instinctively know what it needs and he is a master at giving it to me. There is no warning at all for the sudden climax that barrels through me, but when it does, I let out that scream and practically strangle him when my legs lock together around his head.

When the last tremors ripple through my body, my legs relax slightly. I look down and Linc is still kissing and lightly nibbling between my legs. I’m so sensitive, it’s almost too much to bear and I reach my hands down to push his head away.

“Enough, Linc,” I whisper.

He merely growls in response, lifting his lips off of me just enough to say, “It’s never enough.”

And then he dives back down again. He’s rougher this time…possessed of an intent to make me come again…maybe harder. His tongue is fluttering against me sinfully and he uses his lips to suck at just the right place. He adds his fingers again, twisting and flexing them to hit me in a spot that makes my body practically fly off the bed.

It shouldn’t be possible but within just a matter of seconds, I’m cresting again. My hands are no longer pushing him away but holding him in place. Not that he’s going anywhere by the looks of things. And when he feels my insides start to clamp around his fingers, he bares his teeth and bites at me gently.

It’s all I need and I’m exploding so violently, my vision goes dim. My legs lock up again, and I hear him murmuring against me, “That was fucking beautiful.”

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The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #10)

I knew the chances of seeing Avril or Dane here tonight would be high. I knew that I risked walking into a room and seeing them experience the ultimate in pleasure, but when I walked into The Orgy Room not a minute ago, I didn’t expect to see them together.

The Orgy Room is dimly lit with focused ceiling lights that beam down on the various pieces of furniture where people have sex. Once your eyes become accustomed to the lighting, it’s easy to see what goes on. I had walked the perimeter of the room, checking out the action.

I knew I wanted to come tonight to give this another shot. I wanted to do it because my two best friends are finding something here that makes them happy, and well… I want happy. It’s something that has eluded me over the years as I’ve waited to find the right woman. I’m thirty-seven and it hasn’t happened yet, so I figure it’s time to try something new.

Avril and Dane don’t think I’m cut out for this lifestyle, and I don’t know if they’re right or wrong. I just know I have to try or else I’ll always wonder.
Nothing, however, could prepare me for seeing Dane and Avril together. There’s a reclining double chaise lounge, padded with thick vinyl, and they are both completely naked. My first instinct is to bolt out of here, because I feel like I’m intruding on something intensely personal. But just as quickly, I dismiss that because nothing can be intensely personal when you’re fucking in a room known for its orgies.

Entranced, I watch as they kiss and fondle each other. They must have just gotten started. Dane has his hand working between her legs and she’s stroking his cock, which is rock hard.

My cock is rock hard I realize as I continue around the edge of the room to get a different view.

I feel completely weird as I find a place against the wall where I can lean against it and watch. They’re ten feet from me, completely immersed in each other, and my dick feels like concrete. I’m reminded of that night weeks ago when I watched Avril get fucked, and I wonder what the hell is wrong with me that I can be so turned on by that. Watching her with Dane is a million times more intense.

I should be running away and pretending I never saw this. Not sure how I’ll look them in the face on Monday at the office, but that’s not enough of a risk to have my feet moving. Instead, they stay firmly planted while I squeeze my hands into fists to prevent myself from jacking off.

As much as I’m fascinated and turned on, there’s a tiny kernel of jealousy starting to brew deep down as I watch Dane’s fingers pumping in and out of Avril. She and I shared something that night we watched each other, and it was outside the bonds of just friendship. It was sexual. There was a connection, but I never would have thought to act on it. I’m not sure whether I hate Dane or admire him for pushing past something I couldn’t.

But really… I can’t hate him or her. They’re both enjoying what they’re doing, and I can tell by the way their hands are moving and the way they are kissing that this isn’t the first time they’ve been together. They obviously have a connection, and the only way I could ever begrudge that is if our friendship gets ruined.
It might. But it might not.

All I know is I’m rooted to the spot, unable to look away and knowing when I do finally jack off or fuck someone else in here, I’m going to come harder than I probably ever have before.

Neither of them seem to be in a hurry to get off, slowly and lazily touching each other, and it’s driving me crazy. I consider finding someone in here to fuck, just so I can get off, but then I’m surprised when Dane rears up and spins Avril so her back is along the reclining portion, which has her facing me. Dane spreads her legs wide. My eyes go straight to her pussy, which is glistening wet. My view is immediately obstructed as Dane drops to his stomach and presses his face right into her. My cock jumps as Avril’s back arches in pleasure, and I have no choice but to adjust myself, stroking myself lightly over my jeans.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Dane’s head moves back and forth as he eats Avril’s pussy, and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. My mouth waters, and that little kernel of jealousy expands a tiny bit. Part of me wants to clap Dane on the back, but the other part wants to pull him off her so I can get her off with my tongue.

It takes no time at all and Avril’s head shoots up as her hands go to Dane’s head where she fists chunks of his hair. She cries out her release as her hips rotate to create more friction between his mouth and her clit. He keeps at her, and I can hear her say “stop” as she pulls on his head.

And as soon as his head lifts to look at her, Avril’s gaze shifts past him to land directly on me. It happens all in an instant, but it seems like I watch it in slow motion.

Her eyes go wide with shock followed by a flood of guilt within those blue irises. I only get contrition for a second at most before flames leap in her eyes as she realizes I just watched Dane eat her out and there’s a part of her that likes it.

Avril murmurs something I can’t hear, but Dane does, because he’s pushing up and turning to look over his shoulder at me. There’s no guilt on his face at all, but I see an openness I’d expect if I were to walk into a bar to meet him for a long overdue drink together.

Leaning to the side so she can see past Dane, Avril then does the absolute unthinkable. She lifts her arm, turns her palm upward, and holds it out to me. Her eyes are hot and fevered. When I glance at Dane, I can see he’s turned on by the prospect of what Avril is silently offering me right now.

She’s beckoning me to play with them, and my conscience finally decides to rear its ugly head. I move to take a step backward only to be brought up short by the wall to my back. Dane’s face turns troubled, and Avril pushes off the chaise to walk toward me.

My eyes roam all over her body as she comes my way, my first completely unfettered view of her as I couldn’t see much of her body that night we both fucked other people in here. She’s stunning… breasts heavy with tight nipples and cropped blond hair on her pussy that’s slightly darker in the middle because it’s wet. My cock starts aching as she gets closer, and I feel like a deer caught in the headlights.

Avril steps right up to me, and my eyes come up to meet hers.

“Please join us,” she whispers, and I don’t mistake the plea in her voice. I’m not sure if this is out of guilt they’ve been caught or she truly wants me, but I’m so fucking horny at this point, I’m not sure I even care. Somewhere in the back of my mind, something is screaming at me to move cautiously and take heed, but this is Avril standing in front of me.

A woman I’ve loved for a long time in the same way that Dane has loved her.

The look in her eyes is asking me to love her in a different way right now.

“Is this wrong?” I ask her.

“It’s not to me,” she murmurs, and I want her to touch me so bad. If she touches me, my decision will be made.

She doesn’t, though, and I know she wants me to walk on my own accord the rest of the way.

I look past her to Dane. He’s now standing beside the chaise, his erection standing tall. Nothing about the woman whose pussy he just ate inviting me to join them is turning him off. He gives me a nod, telling me it’s okay.

But nothing about this is okay.

My two best friends.

My two best platonic friends.

Standing naked and asking me to join them.

“Fuck it,” I mutter just as I reach out to pull Avril to me. She comes easily and steps right into my body, her lips coming straight to mine.

I groan when her tongue breaches my mouth, and my hands go to her ass to pull her against my erection. Avril sighs. It sounds like happiness to me, so I choose to believe I am making her happy.

She works her hands in between us, opening my jeans. When her hand wraps around my cock, my knees go weak. My eyes start to roll, but Dane stepping up behind Avril makes them pop wide. He wraps his arms around her, one hand going to a breast, the other going between her legs. Avril’s hand tightens on my dick, and she strokes me hard as Dane fingers her.

“Kiss me again,” she whispers, and I do without hesitation.

I’m so worked up I’m surprised I’m not spilling in her hand, but the entire scenario is so surreal, I’m having a tough time even processing the feelings.
“Let’s go back to the chaise,” Dane says in a low voice. Before I know it, he’s pulling Avril by the hand that way. She, in turn, takes my hand in hers, regretfully letting go of my dick. The three of us walk in a line back to the furniture that’s just begging for something dirty to take place on it.

Dane, being Dane, takes control and pushes Avril toward the chaise. He positions her head near the low reclining portion so she’s on her hands and knees. I watch mesmerized as he runs a hand down her back, dragging his fingers through the crack of her ass to play lightly at the back of her pussy.

I groan when Dane gives a light slap to the inside of one thigh, then another, prompting her to spread her legs open.

“Fuck her,” Dane tells me softly, but it sounds menacing to me. Like he owns her and he owns me at the same time.

And yet… I can’t help myself.

One knee goes to the chaise, and then another as I position myself behind Avril.

She cranes her neck to look at me over her shoulder, giving me an encouraging yet sexy smile. “Andrew… I want it.”

That’s all my body needs to hear as it takes over the power and control from my brain. I push my jeans down a little and take my cock in my hand. When I press it to her slick opening, a shudder of pure pleasure rips up my spine, and I don’t give a single fuck about one consequence.

I brace with one hand to her hip, and I feed myself into her slowly. Avril’s head drops, and she moans her appreciation of my gift. Holding still within Avril’s cunt, I watch as Dane walks to the head of the chaise and takes Avril by the chin. She opens her mouth willingly, and Dane’s huge cock disappears inside. My hips jerk in reaction to watching as Avril is filled with us both, and I start to move within her.

My movements begin slow, but as Dane increases the pace with which he fucks her mouth, I find myself moving to match him. Avril moans around the cock in her mouth and her pussy flexes around me, causing me to practically see stars. I bring my other hand to her hip and start to pound away inside of her, each stroke causing me to fall further and further into a haze of lust and boiling need to come. In this moment, it matters not that they’re my best friends or that we’re doing the dirtiest thing imaginable.

All I care about is coming. When Dane throws his head back and groans out his release while lodged deep in Avril’s mouth, it’s all I need for my cock to start spilling what seems like buckets inside of her. I come hard, and my head spins from the exquisite pleasure of it. I’ve never experienced anything like it before, and I know it’s because there’s something infinitely filthy about fucking your best friend while your other best friend fucks her at the same time.

Dane pulls his cock out of her mouth and leans down to give her a hard kiss. I stay planted within her, satisfied beyond measure, and yet wondering where in the fuck we go from here.

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The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #9)

Kynan pulls one hand from his pocket, then makes a motion with his index finger for me to spin around. “I’ll unzip your dress.”

The warm rumble of words—his commanding tone—all of it hits me straight between my legs. Shaking my head to clear it, I take in a long breath. It doesn’t mean a thing.

I turn away from Kynan, pulling my long hair over one shoulder to reveal the zipper. My ears strain to hear him, but he approaches me silently.

Then a large hand comes to my shoulder, warm and heavy. The other goes to the zipper, and he starts to lower it ever so slowly. He’s standing close because I can feel heat coming off his body. His breath hits the nape of my neck.

Is this a seduction or is he being neighborly?

I can’t help but snort at the thought, and Kynan’s hand stops midway down my back. “What’s so funny?”

Well, fuck… might as well be honest. I give a slight clearing of my throat. “I was just wondering if you were being neighborly by helping me with my zipper or if you were trying to seduce me?”

Kynan’s voice is gentle but chiding with a hint of amusement. “If I was trying to seduce you, Jos, you’d know it. You wouldn’t have to ask.”

I’m immediately disappointed.

Damn it all to hell, I want him to seduce me.

“For example,” he says lightly, and he touches the bare skin revealed by the opened zipper. He slowly drags a knuckle down my spine. “I would perhaps touch you like this.”

My breath seems to freeze in my lungs. I hold absolutely still, even as I can feel goose bumps breaking free in the path of his grazing touch.

“Or,” he continues, his tone a little lower. Rougher. “I might do this.”

And then his lips are on my neck. I feel a waft of hot breath before his teeth graze over my skin, down along the slope of my shoulder. He bites me gently, then drags his tongue over the spot.

My body isn’t my own. I push my hips backward into him, needing to feel his body.

And I do.

Big and hard.

Extremely hard in some places.

Kynan lifts his face, rubs his bearded cheek over mine, and whispers, “I want inside you, Joslyn.”

Part of me is relieved by his words, because they’re carnal and rooted in the need for release. There’s nothing wrong with that. I want it, too, and we can keep this purely sexual. Love doesn’t need to be part of this. It’s not what made our chemistry great.

“I want that, too,” I say on one long exhale of contained breath.

“But the risk, Jos,” he says, and it’s taunting. “What about the risk?”

I can’t help myself. My body wants more than my mind is willing to engage in, and I rotate my hips against the hard length of him.

Kynan hisses, his hands dropping to my waist. His grip is tight, and he holds me still. “Are you going to risk it, Joslyn?”

My mind is spinning. I want him inside of me, and I have no clue what he’s talking about. “Risk what?”

“Risk falling,” he growls, then bites my neck again. “You know we’re both on the edge. It will be so easy to tumble back again.”

I blink furiously, trying to process what he’s saying. Is he telling me that feelings are involved for him, too?

I pull slightly away, turning my neck so I can see him. “You’re at risk?”

He doesn’t answer, but his eyes bore deep into mine. “I’m a different man than I was when you knew me twelve years ago, Jos. I’m harder. Rougher. My… appetites are a bit different. You might fall into something you’re not ready for.”

“But what about you?” I press, needing to know this isn’t a one-sided thing. “If it’s just sex, let’s agree on it. But if there’s a chance it’s more… I need to know the stakes.”

Kynan’s eyes close slowly, but stay that way only a moment. When they open, they’re determined. “There’s never been a woman like you, Joslyn. In twelve bloody years, no one’s ever come close. You’re fucking right I’m at risk.”

Relief fills me as well as an overwhelming urgency to discover exactly what he means. A thrill of expectations rush up my spine as wetness floods my panties.

Becoming emboldened, I move my hand backward to see just how different, cupping his hardness through his jeans. I squeeze him roughly. Kynan groans, thrusts his hips forward, then chuckles darkly in my ear. “Do you want that?”

“Yes,” I rasp. God, do I want it.

“You’re going to have to work for it.”

It takes a moment to process what he says, and I turn around to face him. It isn’t lost on me that I have no clue how to proceed. I am the same nineteen-year-old girl who apparently hasn’t led a very imaginative sex life since Kynan and I split twelve years ago.

But I do have something that has always been a part of my makeup, and I remember when there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for this man had he asked. He definitely has something I want, and I’m willing to do what it takes to get it.

Another realization.

There’s power in that as a woman.

I smile as I place my hands on his belt buckle. “Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”

Fire flashes in Kynan’s eyes as he bares his teeth in challenge. In a flash, he’s pulling me hard into him for a kiss. His mouth covers mine. Consumes me from the inside out. One of his hands goes to the back of my head, the other to my ass to pull me flush against his hard cock.

He rips his mouth from mine, biting at my lower lip along the way. The sting of it makes me ache with need.

Rubbing a thumb roughly over my lower lip, Kynan’s dark words thrill me beyond anything I could imagine. “I want something from you, Joslyn.”

My chest is heaving, and it’s hard to formulate words. “What’s that?”

“Your mouth on me,” he growls before flashing me a feral grin as he starts to take his belt off.

I want to fall to my knees right this second, because he’s asking me to. I’d gladly do it. I remember the taste of him from so long ago, and I want it on my tongue again. I loved the power of having him in my mouth.

“Turn around,” he orders gruffly. The hair on the nape up my neck prickles when his belt makes a hissing sound as he pulls it free from the loops.

My legs start shaking, and I can feel how embarrassingly wet I am just from what little bit of foreplay we’ve had—mostly from his words and dark promises.

I turn slowly away from him, staring blankly at the interior of my closet.

“Hands behind your back.”

“Kynan,” I murmur, not in defiance but in total supplication.

“Now, kitten,” he replies with a low chuckle.

Kitten.

He used to call me that.

My hands go behind my back. Almost immediately, he’s looping the thick leather of his belt around them. He cinches it tight to where I can’t free myself, but there’s not an ounce of pain with it.

Kynan comes around to my front. I lower my gaze automatically, instinctually submissive although I’ve never been tied up in my life.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he chides, putting his finger under my chin. He forces my eyes up to meet his. “You keep your eyes on me at all times. I promise you, Jos… you’re in charge here.”

I shiver.

“For now, that is,” he amends.

Shivers turn into full-body shudders.

“Eyes on me,” he says in reminder, then levels me with a rakish grin. “And get on your knees.”

 

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The Naughty List: 25 Days of Sawyer’s Steamiest Scenes (Day #8)

I step toward her, and for some reason, she takes a step back. Her eyes sparkle with challenge, her chest rising and falling, that one nipple a darker red than the other from my mouth.

I take another step toward her, my hands going to my belt. As I pull it free from the buckle, she edges back again.

“Second thoughts?” I ask gruffly.

I slip the belt free from the loops, taking another step her way. She moves back, her eyes pinned on the belt with interest.

“This works great for binding wrists,” I say conversationally. I love the way her eyes flash with heat. I drop the belt to the ground. “Maybe another time. I’d like your hands free to do what they want for now.”

Upon seeing her disappointment, pure in its form, I make a note to use a belt at some point.

I haven’t even fucked her yet, and I’m fairly certain I’ll be coming back up her elevator again in the near future.

As I’m unbuttoning my jeans, lowering the zipper, we play a cat-and-mouse walk clear across her kitchen until her back comes up against the wall that leads into the dining room through a curved archway.

I see a heavy, quality-built dining table that seats ten through there and figure it will work well.

With a lunge, I grab Veronica, and she shrieks in surprise, followed by a husky laugh as my hands go to her ass to lift her up. Her legs wrap around my waist, just as they did last week, as if they know their place—and our mouths fuse as I walk into the dining room.

She clings to me tightly, tongue thrashing against mine. I move to the end of the dining table and kick the heavy chair out of the way before lowering her ass to the mahogany. I break the kiss, putting a palm to her chest and pushing her so her back hits the table. I divest her of her little panty shorts, and just like that, she’s splayed naked on the dining table.

She’s a fucking feast.

For a moment, I can tell she’s all in, then doubt crosses her face. I wait, and she tips her head back to the large pane of glass that overlooks the Phoenix skyline. “I don’t have blinds.”

“Don’t care,” I reply.

“Someone might see,” she points out.

“Also don’t care.”

She considers that, lower lip sucked between her teeth, before finally saying, “Oh well… I don’t even know my neighbors, anyway.”

“Good girl,” I praise as I spread her legs with my hands and step in between them. I bend over and press one palm to the dining table near her ribs.

Veronica starts to rise up, perhaps to meet me for a kiss. Instead, my other hand goes between her legs, and my fingers find her wet and warm. I slide one in, and she flops back down to the table with an audible groan, her hips tilting and flexing in a silent plea for more.

So I give her more—another finger and my thumb playing along her clit. She’s so fucking responsive that I can feel her muscles gripping onto me as I try to slide out. I had thought about working her to readiness with my mouth because I’m dying to go down on her, but she’s ready.

So goddamn ready, and I know this for sure when she says, “You’re killing me, Riggs.”

Unfortunately, I have to pull my hand away from in between her legs, but it shoots straight to my wallet where I quickly pull out a condom. Veronica’s eyes shine with appreciation.

“This is going to be fast and hard,” I feel compelled to advise her.

“Not fast enough,” she says, leaning up to rip the condom from me. While she frees it from the package, I push my jeans down and free my cock, which needs not one single ministration from Veronica to be ready. It was ready the minute I stepped off that elevator and saw her standing there.

I step in closer, and Veronica attempts to put the condom on. Her hands are shaking and she looks unsure, and I remember she’s been married. Condoms may not be her forte, so I help her along, coaxing her fingers and hands on how to do it. I suppress a groan as she rolls it on.

My hand goes to the back of Veronica’s neck, and I haul her up further so I can kiss her again. Intensely passionate, there’s so much communication and promise just with our lips and tongues. My hand goes back between her legs, and I work her clit lightly as we kiss. Slip my fingers back in, savoring how warm and wet she is. When the bucking of her hips gets overly insistent, I once again pull my hand away.

Stepping back with my one hand still behind her neck, I pull Veronica all the way up from the table. Her eyes cloud with confusion and then flash with surprise as I spin her around.

As I step into her, bringing my hard cock against her back, she issues a tiny moan of acceptance or protest, I’m not sure. I wrap an arm around her stomach, the other over her breasts, and hold her tight to my body so I can whisper in her ear, “Going to bend you over and fuck you from behind. Any objections?”

Veronica shakes her head furiously. “God, no. No objections.”

“Good,” I reply, doing exactly as promised. I release my hold and bend her over the table. It doesn’t sit high enough for her to lie her stomach and chest on it and keep her ass tilted high enough for me. So she braces with her forearms on the hard wood as I press myself against her. Using my hand to guide myself, I slide slowly into her.

“Christ,” I growl, because I don’t recall anything feeling this good.

Ever.

So tight and willing… so Veronica.

I smooth my hands up her back and hear her responding purr of contentment. I can think of a thousand ways to get her to make that sound again, and I start filing them away for another time.

My hands travel back to her hips, and I start to move. Sliding out, thrusting back in deeply. Steady, measured strokes that pick up in speed and force. Veronica makes tiny gasping sounds with each pump of my hips, and I can’t stop the guttural sounds tearing from me. It feels so fucking good, I feel like an animal as I fuck her harder and faster.

“Feels… good,” Veronica stutters between thrusts.

“Too… good,” I reply. Because it’s dangerous for anything to feel this good.

“Riggs,” she moans after I bottom out extra deep, shoving the entire dining room table forward a few inches. “I’m close.”

Fuck, so am I. But no way I’m going before her.

I pull her hips back, reach an arm around her, and dive my hand back between her legs. I roll her clit without missing a single thrust, and I’m shocked when Veronica cries out an almost immediate release. Pussy tightening around my cock, her cries devolve into a groan of pleasure, and my balls shrink, orgasm brewing at the base of my spine. I’m ready to tip over.

I slam into her one last time, keep my hand between her legs, and with the other pull her up by her throat so she’s standing straight against me as I come. I keep dipping and flexing my hips, working my way deeper and deeper into her as I unload, and it’s the best fucking orgasm I’ve ever had.

Twisting me up and turning me inside out, not sure I’ll ever reach that pinnacle again, I’m sure as fuck going to try with this woman.

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