30DaystoSyn (12 page)

“Here you go,” the girl at the window said
as she extended the other cone. She looked directly into his eyes. “Can I get
you anything else?” Once more she swept her tongue over her lips.

“Ah, no,” he said and hit the button to
raise the window. The last he saw of the girl was a very disappointed look
puckering her heavily made-up face.

“I’ve told you before,” Melina said as he
pulled over to one side of the parking lot. “You are an evil man.”

“What did I do?” he asked as he stopped the
car and turned off the engine.

“You got that poor woman all hot and
bothered and left her aching to see what’s under that tight T-shirt.”

“Let her wonder,” he said. “I’m taken.”

“Are you now?” she asked.

He twisted in his seat so he could face
her. “Yes, I am.”

“Anyone I know?”

“I doubt you know her as well as I do,” he
said and took a long lap at his cone.

His gaze lowered to her mouth as she took
another lick and had to stifle the urge to groan. Two, he thought, could play
at that game. He flicked his tongue slowly over the ice cream.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” she
accused.

He drew his ice-cream-coated tongue into
his mouth and grinned brazenly before making another foray across the
treat—this time even more slowly.

“Stop it,” she said, laughing.

“Am I disturbing you, Miss Wynth?” he asked
and arched his tongue over his top lip to lick away a smear of ice cream.

She ignored his question and asked one of
her own. “Why do you men like that so much?” she queried.

“What?” he asked innocently though he knew
perfectly well what she meant.

“Oral sex,” she said, blushing.

He deliberately raised his eyebrows. “Were
we talking about oral sex?”

She took a long, slow lick of her own cone.

“Oh, now, that’s just plain mean,” he said.
“Remind me to never watch you eating a banana.”

She laughed. “Answer me, Kiwi. What do men
find so fascinating about it?”

He made a couple of forays over his cone as
he thought then licked his lips before answering. “Well, it’s a sensory thing,”
he said. He held up his left hand and ticked off the reason on his fingers
beginning with his thumb. “It’s the woman’s scent primarily. Pure pheromone
overload that close to the source.” He raised his index finger. “The taste.”

“Eww,” she said.

“Hey, he likes it!” he said then lifted his
middle finger and the other two in succession. “The way she feels against his
tongue. What it does to her.”

“What does it do to him?” she asked.

“Makes his cock as hard as steel. He’s got
his nose buried in her muff, his tongue rammed up inside her and—”

“I get the picture,” she said, her face
red.

“You asked,” he said with a grin.

“I’m glad it gives you pleasure,” she said.

“I’ve never done it,” he admitted.

She gave him a look of incredulity. “You
haven’t?” When he shook his head, she asked why not.

“There’s never been a woman I wanted to
taste or one I felt safe in tasting,” he replied.

“But you do with me?”

“I want to taste you so bad my cock leaks
every time I think about it,” he told her.

A hard quiver ran through her.

“Have you ever had a man go down on you?”

“No,” she said too quickly and he was
pleased he would be her first, the one to initiate her into the pleasure.

“And you’ve never performed oral sex on a
man,” he said.

“Certainly not!” she said and shuddered.

“You find that repulsive?” he asked.

She wouldn’t look at him. “Yes and I’m not
looking forward to you making me do it.”

Her words bothered him. He was looking
forward to having her mouth on him but he didn’t want to force her into
anything. Perhaps she had a misconception of the act and if she did, he wanted
to know so he could allay her fears.

“What do you find revolting about it?” he
asked.

“The thought of you in my mouth…” She
shuddered again. She looked around and there were tears in her eyes. “It’s
gross.”

“What’s gross?” he questioned. “The feel of
my flesh? The taste of me? The actual cum?”

Her blush deepened. “All of it.”

He shifted the cone to his left hand and
reached over to put his hand on her shoulder.

“Sweetie, I could wear a frenchie.”

“A what?”

“A condom,” he said.

“But you said you didn’t want to.”

“Well, I don’t but if it would make you
feel more comfortable, I will.”

“You’d do that?” she asked and swiped at a
lone tear that escaped the corner of her eye.

He would do anything to have her mouth on
him, he thought. “Yeah, baby. I’d do that.”

On the way up in the elevator, she wondered
what he would do to her tonight. She was anxious but not in the same ways she’d
been before now. She was excited. She was looking forward to seeing him. When
he’d dropped her off at her house—pulling up alongside the car he had loaned
her—he had reiterated what he’d said at the sub shop.

“I’m going to do wicked, wicked things
to you tonight.”

A shiver worked its way down her spine and
when the doors opened she didn’t hesitate to step out of the cage. It seemed to
take forever for the digital clock to read 08:00:00.

He barely gave her time to lock the door
and move to the chair he had once again placed beneath the circle of light.

“Take off your blouse, your bra and your
skirt,” he ordered, “then sit down with your arms locked behind you and your
legs open.”

Whoa! she thought. He wasn’t wasting time
but then she didn’t want to either. She was nervous but she wanted his hands on
her. She knew he probably wouldn’t take her tonight, but he would do wicked
things that she was pretty sure she’d like.

And she wanted to make sure he was as
feverishly anticipating his hands on her as she was.

Forcing herself not to hurry as she
desperately wanted to, she unbuttoned her blouse, pulled the two sections
slowly apart then shrugged off the garment. She dropped it to the floor beside
the chair and reached for the button at the waistband of the skirt. There was a
slight sound from where she knew the wingback chair sat. With infinite
slowness, she lowered the zipper of her skirt then inched it just as slowly
over her hips and down her thighs.

“You’re playing with fire, woman,” he told
her.

She knew he didn’t want her to speak but
he’d issued no rule against grunts or groans, moans or snorts. She gave him a
combination grunt-groan and heard him chuckle.

She let the skirt pool at her feet then
kicked it aside. She put her fingers on the front closure of the very expensive
lace-and-silk bra he had provided for her. Leisurely she unsnapped it and
peeled the cups from her breasts.

The unmistakable sound of the chair
creaking made her wonder if he had simply shifted position or had risen from
the seat. She knew she’d soon find out as she slipped her arms from the bra
straps and tossed it atop her blouse. She sat down in the chair, put her arms
behind it and locked her fingers together. She parted her thighs but not as
much as she knew he wanted her to.

He appeared out of the shadows and came to
kneel in front of her. His gaze was riveted to hers as he reached down to lift
one of her feet to his thigh. Slowly he slid off her sandal then turned his
attention to the other one.

“You have such pretty feet,” he said,
caressing the top of her foot with his thumbs.

The blue of his eyes was very intense
beneath the overhead light as he looked up at her. He was sitting back on his
haunches and she realized he was barefoot—the top of one foot crossed over the
instep of the other. It was a position of adoration as he knelt there at her
feet, his finger now massaging her toes.

“I’m double-jointed,” he said. “Very flexible.”

Her womb clenched beneath his steady
regard. He was so handsome, so sexy hunkered there with the light-blue T-shirt
stretched taut across his muscular chest, clinging tightly to his broad
shoulders, hanging loose over his faded, torn jeans.

He lowered her foot to the floor and put
his palms on his thighs.

“Spread your legs wider, baby,” he said,
his voice thick.

She did as he ordered and felt her blood
begin to race.

“Hook your feet around the legs of the
chair.”

She thought of him sitting just that way at
the sub shop and smiled knowingly.

“Do I want to know what that smile means?”
he asked, head to one side.

She shook her head, pursed her lips but did
not answer.

“Good girl,” he said. “You’re learning.”

She gave him an unladylike snort and he laughed.
He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs then pushed up to his knees. He bent
toward her and put his hands on her breasts. She sucked in a breath at the
warmth of his flesh covering hers.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he
told her.

He began rubbing his thumbs from the crease
of her breasts outside along the lower edges in a slow, rhythmical arch.
Staying away from her sensitive nipples that were aching to be touched.

“Have you ever had a man’s fingers inside
you?” he asked conversationally.
“You may answer.”

“No!” she replied and squirmed against the
chair’s hard wooden seat.

“Not even the tip of one finger?” he asked.
He was edging closer and closer to her nipples.

“No,” she whispered. There was a heavy
weight bearing down on the floor of her vaginal walls as his thumbs swung back
and forth.

“You’ll like it,” he said. His voice was
low, hypnotic and his eyes were fused with hers. “It’s a little bit like sex
but not as deep and doesn’t fill you up like a man’s cock will. I can make you
come with my fingers.”

She squirmed again and watched his eyes
flash.

“Be still, Melina,” he ordered. “Keep that
sweet little ass immobile.”

She held her breath for his thumbs were
intruding onto the dark circles around her nipples. It was only a matter of seconds
before…

He dropped his hands from her breasts to
the sides of her waist and she groaned in frustration.

Those sweet thumbs began to draw a line
from her navel outward.

“You know a woman’s twat isn’t the only
thing a man likes to lick.” He saw her flinch. “Don’t like that word?”

She shook her head vigorously.

“Okay,” he said, drawing the word out. “How
about snatch? Slit?” When she pursed her lips he sighed. “Cunt?”

She cocked a shoulder to let him know that
was the least offensive to her.

“Taking back the word, huh?” he inquired
and at her slow nod he grinned.

“Unh huh,” she hummed without opening her
mouth.

“Good on you,” he said. “Personally the
word cunt makes my cock hard as steel every time I hear it. Twat’s a silly word
and I equate snatch and gash with foul body odor or a bloody wound. Slit? I
have no feelings one way or the other about that one. In New Zealand it’s
gunga.” When she frowned, he laughed. “Yeah, odd word that.”

The tip of his right thumb delved into her
navel and her entire body quaked.

“Like that?” he said. He leaned in closer
until he could put his lips against her ear. “Want me to go lower?”

She hummed her answer and he flicked his
tongue into her ear. She cried out and jerked. When she did, his hands
tightened around her waist to keep her from moving.

“I told you to sit still, Melina,” he
reminded her. He pulled back and arched a brow. “You want to say something to
me?”

“You’re going to tell me to leave before
you…”

“I am?” he questioned.

She tensed for the look in his eyes was
truly satanic. She had no chance to think too long on how evil it was before he
dipped his head and caught her left nipple between his teeth.

“Mother of God!” she yelped and brought her
hands to his head to hold it. Whether to stop him or to press him closer she’d
never know for he released her nipple and jerked his head free. He gave her a
stern look.

“Put your arms behind you.” When she
hesitated, he narrowed his eyes. “Put. Your. Arms. Behind. You. Woman!”

Bottom lip trembling because she knew—she
knew
—what
he was going to say, she did as he ordered.

“Don’t say it,” she pleaded. “Kiwi, please,
don’t say it.”

“What is it you think I’m going to say?” he
asked, his face hard.

“You’re going to tell me I can leave now,”
she said.

He reached up to lay his palm against her
cheek. He smiled gently. “You’re right. I am. You may leave now.”

He got to his feet, turned his back on her
and walked back into the shadows. She heard the chair creak as he sat down
heavily.

“You’re an evil bastard and I hate you!”
she said, shooting out of the chair. She bent over to pick up her clothing and
the next thing she knew he was back and his powerful hands were clamped around
her upper arms. He jerked her to him and lowered his head to slant his mouth
brutally over hers.

The kiss was savage, so rough it took her
breath away. She was molded so tightly to his chest she thought she could hear
the heavy beat of his heart against hers. He was ravaging her mouth, raping it
with his tongue, and it was a good thing he had such a tight hold on her for
her knees felt like water.

She heard him grunt then he thrust her away
from him though he still kept possession of her arms.

“You don’t hate me,” he said through
clenched teeth. “You want me as much as I want you, baby, but you aren’t ready.
You aren’t anywhere near ready to get me yet.”

“Let go,” she said.

“Stop talking,” he countered. When she
opened her mouth, he shook his head. “I mean it, Melina. Stop talking. I’m
punishing you by sending you away tonight. Want me to cancel the session tomorrow
night?”