Wicked Bet: A Bad Boy Romance Page 8

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Do you want to skip them?”

  “No,” I said. “I mean ... do you? Are you willing to forfeit the contest?”

  He smiled and took my hand. “I think you’ll find, Counselor, that according to the legal code, it’s not forfeiting if both parties agree.”

  I thought about that for a minute. “Works for me,” I said, and there was barely time for him to throw some twenties on the table and for me to wave at the bartender before we were rushing for the car, heading for home.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “TAKE YOUR CLOTHES off. Right now,” Ian said as we tumbled into the apartment after reaching new levels of inappropriate behavior in the elevator. Who knew two horny people could grope so many different body parts in fifteen seconds?

  I undid the straps of my dress and let it fall to my waist, where Ian was more than happy to pull it off me. He paused when he saw the writing on my stomach. I’d almost forgotten about it. Slowly, he reached a long finger out, tracing over the letters. Over his name. Over the arrow pointing to the part of my body he claimed for himself. And I sure as hell couldn’t wait for him to stake his claim.

  Ian slid his hand down, slipping it under my panties, pushing aside the black mesh. His fingers pressed between my legs, feeling the moist heat there. “For me. Only me,” he said.

  “For you,” I agreed, and he lifted me up, one hand between my legs and the other under my ass. I wrapped my arms around the man I loved as he carried me to our bedroom.

  He tossed me onto the bed and climbed on top of me, attacking my neck with his tongue. I pushed and pulled at his shirt, trying to tear it off, but in my position, I couldn’t do much. Fortunately, he helped out, somehow shedding his clothes in about seven-tenths of a second. I moaned with appreciation when I saw his naked form. I needed release so badly. I needed him so badly.

  Ian kissed his way up my neck and across my cheek, getting closer and closer to my mouth. His fingertips skillfully roamed over my sides, my arms, my shoulders. “Hands above your head,” he commanded. With a moan, I complied. He was so hot when he took charge.

  But wait a second. “I still don’t get why you get to give the orders,” my inner lawyer protested while the rest of me wanted her to shut the hell up. “You had your turn this morning.”

  Ian didn’t cease his exploration of my body. Instead, he reached up with one large hand and trapped both of mine above my head, pinning them to the bed. His other hand pushed between our bodies, flicking open my bra and capturing one erect nipple.

  At the same time, his mouth finally met mine, and this was no pleasant little peck on the lips. This was the complete domination of my mouth by his. He crushed his lips to mine, his tongue pushing inside me, filling me the way I hoped his cock would soon. His oral campaign to wipe all protests from my mind was succeeding. I could barely remember my name when he kissed me like this.

  “Do you really want me to stop?” he growled when he finally came up for air. The sensations were still overwhelming, him holding my wrists down, his body pressing against me, his talented hand tweaking and teasing my nipple. Not to mention the egg still vibrating inside me.

  “No,” I said, a moan escaping my lips along with the word. “I don’t.”

  “Then stop arguing,” he said, and this time he attacked my nipple with his lips and tongue, swirling it around in his mouth, making my eyes roll back.

  “I rest my case,” I said, barely able to get out the phrase.

  “Good,” he murmured against my breast. Taking my nipple into his mouth again, he sucked hard and kneaded it with his lips, tugging at it until it popped out as he pulled away. He let go of my wrists and sat up, straddling me. “Now, fake an orgasm.”

  “What? But ... aren’t we finally going to have the real thing?”

  “Yes. Several times over. But you’re still going to do this. Right now. You sounded so fucking hot today—I want the visual that goes along with it.”

  I groaned, then tried half-heartedly to pretend it had been moan. Why did men with dominant tendencies make things so difficult? I wanted to go into Ian’s web forum and give every one of the guys a piece of my mind.

  Ian looked down at me, his expression hungry. He flicked my bra cups off my breasts, baring my chest. “Play with your nipples like you did today.”

  Damn. Men with dominant tendencies did make life difficult, but they also made it erotic as hell. Ian’s hungry anticipation made me feel even sexier.

  My eyes never left his as I grasped my nipples in my fingers, squeezing, tugging. My breathing started speeding up naturally, but I added little sighs and moans that made his erect cock twitch.

  “That’s it, baby. Show me how you touched yourself earlier.”

  I arched my back, pushing my breasts up, my fingers still on my stiff peaks. My breathing was getting louder now, and as had happened earlier, it felt like there was a direct line between my nipples and my clit.

  “Close your eyes,” Ian said. “Pretend it’s just you, touching yourself, teasing yourself as you did today.” As I shut my eyes, he swung his leg off me and sat next to me on the bed, completing the illusion that I was by myself.

  However, I could still feel the heat from his body next to me, and whenever I did something he approved of, like when I added high-pitched whimpers as if I was getting close to coming, he increased the intensity of the vibration inside me. When I took my breasts in both hands, smashing them against my chest, letting my soft flesh spill out from between my fingers, he turned it up even more.

  And when I pinched my nipples and moaned for him again, he moved over me, grasping the edge of my panties and pulling them down my legs. Peeling the black scrap of fabric completely off, he clasped my ankle and swung it over his shoulder so that he was between my thighs. I was panting harder, my nipples rock hard as I put on a show for him. It was so damn hot, knowing he could see me and I couldn’t see him. Knowing he was looking at me—all of me—right now.

  And then I felt his warm breath near my mound. His soft words tickled my skin. “We’ve had so many new bets going on, we never got to settle the old one.”

  Then his mouth descended on me, his lips nuzzling up and down my slit, his warm, wet, tongue darting out. Now I moaned in earnest, not having to act at all.

  It felt so damn good with his hands spreading my thighs apart, holding me open for him. He licked his way up and down my folds, making me squeal when he pushed his tongue inside me once, pressing against the egg. His muted chuckle told me he’d gotten a kick out of the vibration on his tongue. I know I’d certainly enjoyed it.

  And then his mouth was at the top of my slit, and the vibration increased to the highest setting. I cried out, a big shuddering gasp, and my hands flew to my sides, grasping the sheets tightly, preparing for a wild ride.

  Ian didn’t disappoint. His talented tongue swirled and sucked and flicked at my swollen clit, and my back arched off the bed, my panting and moaning now one hundred percent genuine.

  My thighs tightened around his head and my body started to tremble. He licked harder, working my clit back and forth. When I was seconds from coming, his hand left my thigh and pushed inside of me, tugging on the little string at the end of the egg. He pulled it out just enough to grasp it, and then drove it in and out as his tongue pushed me over the edge.

  I cried out as my entire body dissolved into spasms. My hips bucked, my back arched, my cries melted into silent screams. It had been so damn long, but it felt so good it was almost worth the wait. Ian held my hips down, keeping me from wiggling my way off the bed. His tongue still pressed against my clit, but he wasn’t moving it anymore, and he’d turned off the vibrator. After a long moment, he lifted his head and gently tugged the egg out of me.

  He shifted around until his head rested on my thigh, using it as a pillow. It was only then that I realized I still had the stockings on.

  Still breathing hard, I waved my index finger at him, motioning him toward me. Wil
lingly, he crawled forward, kissing his way up my body until he reached my mouth. I kissed him back, tasting myself on his lips. He lay half on his side, but with one arm and leg on top of me. I held him close, and he stroked my hair away from my face, smoothing it down. His hand trailed down my arm, past my breast, and back to the lipstick letters. He traced them again with his fingers.

  “You really like that, don’t you?” I said, my voice still a little breathless.

  “Oh yes. Next time, I’ll think of something new to write.”

  For some reason that amused me. “Gonna make me into an advertising campaign?”

  “No,” he said, smiling too. “No way am I going to let other people know how kinky and sexy you are. I’m the only one who gets to know that. Says so right here.” He rubbed my belly.

  Wrapping my arms around him, I kissed him again, smiling when we came up for air. Gently, I pushed against him, nudging him onto his side, then his back, rolling over on top of him. This time, I was the one draped on top of his hot, hard body.

  Ian’s large, strong fingers roamed over my back, rubbing, scratching gently, and kneading in little circles. It felt so good—and even better when he worked his way lower and lower, until he was tracing light circles over my ass. Shivers and thrills ran through my body, radiating out from his touch. I wiggled on top of him, feeling his hard cock brush against my leg.

  His hands slid lower, one finger brushing lightly across the crease where my ass met the back of my thigh. I let out a squeal and shimmied away from his touch. “That tickles,” I complained.

  “It does?” he asked, doing it again.

  “Yes,” I said, a small, un-lawyer-like giggle escaping my lips.

  “Maybe it’s because I touched you so softly. Maybe I need to touch you with something harder,” he said, shifting against me, leaving no doubt what he meant. But when he wrapped his arms around my waist, repositioning me so that his hard tip was between my thighs, I shook my head.

  “I still have to settle my part of the bet. The first one, I mean.” I started kissing my way down his body, stopping to blow cool air over one of his cute brown nipples. “I always settle my bets, too.”

  I worked my way downward, following his happy trail to a body part that was very happy to see me. His cock was rock hard and pointing toward me as I reached it. I kissed the head, tasting a drop of moisture as I slid one hand between his legs to cup his balls.

  This time it was Ian’s turn to moan. “Fuck, that feels good.” His voice was thick with desire. I loved it when he sounded like that, when I got him so turned on he lost his usual cool and calm demeanor. I swirled my lips around the head of his cock, tasting, teasing, nuzzling.

  Ian plunged his hands in my hair, holding it away from my face so he could look me in the eye. Pulling back, I winked at him and licked my lips before pushing down on his cock, encircling the head. I ran my tongue around it once, twice, before taking more of him in. He tasted so good. It had been so long since I’d done this.

  Fingers tightened in my hair as I began bobbing my head up and down. My newly resurfaced submissive side reveled in the way he was fisting my hair, urging me on with his hands. I think he must’ve known that, because as I continued to work my mouth up and down his cock, he was a little more forceful than usual.

  My hips started to move in little circles as I continued to caress his hard length with my lips and tongue. It felt so good to know how much I was turning him on, to feel his hips straining under me, to feel his hands tighten in my hair. I flattened my tongue as I took him in deeper, eliciting a primal groan from him.

  Faster and faster I moved, keeping up the suction, dragging my lips against his hard length, feeling him swell even more. I worked his balls too, gently tugging and cupping them the way he liked.

  “Shit, I’m getting close,” Ian groaned, and I redoubled my efforts, getting pretty damn turned on myself. My breasts shook back and forth as I moved my mouth on him, adding to what I hoped was an erotic vision for him. And the sounds he was making, the purely masculine grunts and groans, shot straight to the center of me, making me wet again. Making me want him again. But first, I wanted to finish what I’d started.

  I moaned deep in my throat, knowing he could feel the vibration.

  “Shit,” he said again, trying to hold out, but I didn’t want him to. I moved faster, taking him in deeper, bobbing my head up and down, but then he fisted his hands in my hair, tugging me away from him.

  “No,” I moaned, as his cock slipped out of my mouth.

  “Can’t last much longer, not after all the kinky stuff earlier,” he panted, sitting up. “I’m gonna come deep inside you.”

  “But I wanted you to come in my mouth,” I said. That’d been the terms of the original laser tag bet.

  “Overruled,” he growled, standing up and grabbing my waist, dragging me to the edge of the bed. This was the moment I loved, the moment when my strong, sexy-as-hell husband stopped asking, stopped ordering, and just took what he wanted, using my body as he saw fit. Somehow, he always managed to use it as I saw fit, too.

  Getting my hands and knees under me, I let my lower legs dangle over the edge of the bed as Ian grasped me by the hips and held me in place. I braced myself, waiting, wanting, needing him to enter me. Needing to be filled. Needing him to take me—hard.

  His first thrust was not gentle, but it made me cry out with pleasure. I’m pretty sure I hit the high note from the national anthem when he pushed deep inside me. It had been so damn long. Too damn long.

  He held himself in me, as deep as he could get, and I squeezed myself around him until I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Please,” I said. “Please fuck me hard. Please, Ian, I need you so badly.”

  And he did, pulling out and then pounding back into me, making me cry out with each deep thrust. God, it felt so good. Whimpers and panting escaped my mouth with abandon, leaving no doubt that they were the real thing.

  Ian grunted as he thrusted into me, hard and fast, pounding me, making my body shake, my breasts shake, the bed shake, and probably the neighbors’ glassware shake, too.

  I didn’t care. The only thing I cared about was that he not stop until we both exploded with pleasure. And we were getting close. Ian sped up, sliding easily into my slick channel, moving faster and faster. He was so strong, he was in such good shape—it was a crime, an actual, literal crime that we didn’t do this more often.

  Gasping, I cried out. “Don’t stop ... please ... I’m so close.”

  “No fucking way I’d stop now,” he said, panting with each thrust. If anything, he managed to go harder, pounding deeper, filling me, stretching me, making me feel whole.

  And when he drove all the way in, his cock spasming deep inside me, I came too, crying out, my arms giving way, my head and shoulders crashing to the mattress.

  Ian held me there, emptying himself as I tightened around him, milking his cock. Finally, with a deep grunt of release, he let go of my hips.

  I rolled over on my side and Ian slid onto the bed next to me, both of us completely spent. Breathing heavily and looking exhausted, he still managed to wrap his arm around me, and I nuzzled my head against his chest. We rested that way for a long time, holding each other. Touching each other softly. Breathing in unison. Looking into each other’s eyes on our big bed together. Finally.

  Chapter Fourteen

  SUNDAY MORNING, I woke up a little sore. My body felt deliciously used. It was a sexy feeling. It’d been a long time since it had felt that way. I also felt well-rested. The clock showed it was a little after eight. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d slept so late.

  I took a shower and Ian joined me, to ‘save water,’ he claimed. We got dirty while getting clean, and as I toweled off, panting from another memorable orgasm, I realized that this meant that I’d had sex two days in a row. Possibly this was some kind of warning sign for an impending apocalypse. Oh well ... at least Ian and I had practiced for it in the laser tag arena.

  After
we dressed, Ian showed me the e-mail he’d sent to the forum owner, the so-called Green-Eyed Master. Ian’d explained our situation and asked if it was okay to put up a poll on the website. He’d even signed his e-mail ‘Too Busy to Get Busy,’ just like he was writing to an advice column.

  The forum owner agreed and had even set up the poll for us. All we needed to do was to write up a summary of our halves of the day. Using all my legal skills, I got Ian to agree that I should include all of what I’d planned, since we’d quit midway through my time. We limited ourselves to two hundred fifty words each, and I made Ian promise not to employ his persuasive marketing skills on his.

  After much arguing, tickling, and tussling, we finally had it all set. Ian posted it, and then we stared at it for a few minutes, but evidently the members of the forum were not very active on Sunday mornings.

  Still, by the time Ian started working on his new advertising campaign in the den, and I had set up my laptop in the living room, the poll started getting a few votes and comments.

  “Did you see the most recent response, hon?” Ian called out from the other room, his voice smug. “The guy said I was a very considerate dominant to allow you to plan part of our day.”

  “Best not to ever repeat that if you want me to allow you to remain a guy who’s never been kneed in the balls by his wife.”

  Twenty minutes later, I spotted a comment I couldn’t help sharing. “This guy says he’d kill for a wife who’s as interested in sex as me. Said I sounded like a sex goddess. Good to know I have options.”

  By late afternoon, the poll was roughly even. Twenty-three forum members had voted for Ian with twenty-one for me. I wasn’t too worried, we’d each been in the lead several times throughout the day.

  Sometime after seven, we ordered Chinese food and agreed to stop working when it came. The plan was to eat dinner and then check the poll one last time. Whoever was ahead at that point would be the winner.

  We raced through dinner, not so we could get back to work for once, but so we could check the results.