A Taste of Honey (21 page)

He’d barely stepped into the suite before she launched herself at him, her hands unbuttoning his shirt in record time. Her mouth, hot and slick, pressed against each patch of newly exposed flesh until she was sliding kisses along his waistband as she nimbly unfastened his belt. He forgot all about teaching her a lesson as the fiercest erection he could ever remember sprung eagerly into her waiting grasp.

“I always thought I was exaggerating things in my memory,” she murmured as she stared down at his throbbing cock. Mike thrust against her fist as she measured him with an exquisite pressure that brought a thick drop of pre-come oozing out of the tip. Karen whisked it away, using it to lubricate the pad of her thumb as she swirled it around the unbearably sensitive head.

His knees nearly buckled and he swore softly. He’d forgotten how good she was at hand jobs. Unlike most women, who could never seem to find the right rhythm and pressure, Karen was so good it was almost like masturbating himself. Except when it was just him, he didn’t have the agonizingly erotic vision of his throbbing shaft squeezed in Karen’s small, perfectly manicured hand.

Mike closed his eyes against the sight, afraid he would embarrass himself by exploding all over her. He tried to steady himself, leaning his back against the wall, and then his eyes flew open when he felt a puff of hot breath on the head of his cock.

Her tongue stole out, lapping at him and tracing wet circles around the ridge below the head. Her eyes were open, staring at him, challenging him even as she knelt before him in false submission, his cock firmly in her hand as she tormented him. He quaked with barely restrained hunger as the pink tip of her tongue traced the vein that ran along his length. Another thick spurt of liquid coated the head, and she lapped it up, licking her lips like it was sweet cream.

Shit. He was in serious danger of losing it, and they’d barely even started. He struggled for control, tried to pull away from her mouth. “Karen, I—”

His protest died in his throat as her soft, full lips closed over his cock and slid down almost to the base. A helpless moan he barely recognized as his own echoed up to the ceiling, and he leaned against the wall for support. The sight of her plump lips sliding up and down his thick, glistening shaft was too much. His mind frantically conjured building plans, bid numbers, materials costs—anything to distract him from the feel of her throat swallowing, her tongue lapping and swirling as she sucked him in and out of her mouth.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! He didn’t want to come yet, dammit! He wanted to get inside her, feel her rippling around his cock as she begged him to fuck her, to make her come.

Then he had no choice as Karen’s hand came up to cup his balls, sucking him deep as one finger traced the seam and pressed firmly against the one spot guaranteed to make him go off like Mt. Vesuvius.

She sucked him dry, milking him with her lips and hand as he came in thick spurts against the back of her throat.

When his heart had slowed to merely beating double time, he looked down. Karen gazed up at him with an indisputably victorious look in her eyes. With a smirk, she straightened and sashayed into the sitting room of the suite. “I see the years haven’t done much for your staying power,” she tossed over her shoulder.

Mike pushed away from the wall and followed her, cursing his weakness and his ever susceptible dick. He
never
let himself get carried away with a woman,
never
lost control. Only Karen had ever been able to do that to him, and he had vowed a long time ago he would never let it happen again.

His eyes narrowed at her cocky little swagger. The night wasn’t over yet, and now that she’d so graciously taken the edge off, he could keep a firmer hold on himself. She may have won the battle, but she sure as shit hadn’t won the war.

“W
ould you like a drink?” Karen asked, bending over the minibar as casual as you pleased. As though he wasn’t standing there with his dick damp and half-hard after she’d given him a blow job that had slain him inside of ninety seconds.

Mike shrugged out of his shirt as he walked across the room and then toed off his loafers. Karen straightened and regarded him with that same nonchalant expression as he stripped off his pants, boxers, and socks. “I don’t think so,” he said.

Her gaze dropped to his groin, and she smirked as his cock made a swift and complete recovery. “How flattering,” she cooed, placing the vodka and tonic bottles she’d taken from the minibar on top of the refrigerator. For all her bravado, there was no mistaking the tremble in her hands.

He quickly closed the distance between them and wrapped one arm around her waist and shoved the other up her skirt as he half-dragged, half-carried her into the bedroom. Her mouth was a wide surprised “O” as he shoved her back onto the king-size bed so hard she bounced.

She struggled to sit up, but he easily restrained her with one big hand on her chest as he flicked on the light mounted to the wall beside the bed. No way was he doing this in the dark.

She struggled against his hold. “Mike, let go a second.”

“Uh-uh. You don’t get to call all the shots.”

She exploded in a flurry of motion, slapping at his arms and kicking at him with those lethally sexy stilettos. She just managed to crawl to the edge of the bed before he tackled her, pinning her to the bed with his weight. To emphasize his point, he closed his teeth on the delicate skin between her neck and shoulder, not enough to hurt but hard enough to warn her to stop struggling.

“My turn,” he whispered, licking at the faint tooth marks that marred her tawny skin. He felt as well as heard the hungry sound that escaped the back of her throat, and his cock strained against the smooth flesh of her thigh.

He flipped her back over, undressing her with an efficiency that belied the faint tremor in his hands. “Thank God you still don’t wear many clothes,” he muttered as she helped him strip off her blouse.

Within seconds she was completely naked except for her shoes. When she leaned down to unbuckle the straps, he stopped her with a firm hand clamped around her wrist. “No way. Leave these on.”

“Kinky.” She cocked an eyebrow at him and laid back against the pillows, back arched and legs slightly parted in an obviously well-practiced pose.

He bracketed her hips with his knees and braced his weight on his hands, effectively caging her in. Very deliberately, he stroked the tip of his erection against the soft skin of her belly, loving the way the muscles jumped and shuddered as though shocked by a live wire. Her tongue came out to moisten her lips—another choreographed move, no doubt, but it nonetheless sent another surge of heat to his cock. He leaned down and licked her lips with his own tongue, teasing her until her lips parted.

Nothing, he thought smugly, was feigned about her eager response to his liquid, carnal kiss. He savored the sweet, tangy, vodka-tinged taste of her. In a rush, he remembered how much he had loved to kiss her, how he had once craved the taste of her mouth like a junkie craves heroin.

Echoing his thoughts, she whispered, “I love feeling your mouth on me, Mike. I’d forgotten how good it feels just to have you kiss me.”

He yanked his mouth away, ignoring her protesting tug on the hair at his nape. He wasn’t about to let this turn into a walk down memory lane. He was already in dangerous territory as it was.

Mike pushed back, resting on his knees above her and seizing the opportunity to take a good, long look. She still had one of the hottest bodies he’d ever seen. Though petite, she was long limbed, her arms and legs sleekly muscled. Her breasts weren’t especially large, but just looking at their pink uptilted nipples made him want to howl at the moon. Her belly was flat and tanned, and his mouth went dry as he took in the tan lines at her hips. What was it about tan lines that made a woman look even more naked?

A small tattoo spanned the tan line on her left hip, a tiny frog of some sort. He didn’t have time to study it because he was immediately and completely distracted by what lay between her thighs.

He wondered if he’d ever seen anything sexier than her nearly bald pussy. Almost completely denuded of hair, it offered him an unobstructed view of plump lips, saturated with the slickness of her desire. Her clit, red and engorged, peaked through her juicy labia as though begging for attention.
She
looks like a porn queen,
he thought as he slid one hand to her belly, inexorably drawn to that wet slit, barely decorated by a downy strip of
blond
curls.

Startled, he looked up into her face, eyebrow raised. She smirked back.

“Don’t worry. It’s a professional dye job.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and for God only knew what reason, the thought of Karen, legs spread while applying potentially toxic chemicals to her nether regions, suddenly struck him as devastatingly erotic. Unable to resist the lure, he slid his hand down her belly, over the gleaming flesh, spreading her creamy moisture over the plump lips, finally stopping to rest his thumb over the throbbing pulsebeat of her clit.

She inhaled sharply at the contact, the soft hiss unnaturally loud in the room. He captured her mouth again and pushed two fingers against her slick folds, his thumb moving in teasing circles as he came down over her, resting his weight on one elbow. His fingers dipped just inside the entrance of her body, tormenting her with light thrusts of his fingertips until her hips lifted off the bed and she was moaning into his mouth.

“Mmmm, deeper,” she whispered, moving her hand down over his to show him what she wanted.

He tugged out of her grasp and moved his hand up to cup and squeeze her breasts, painting the beaded flesh of her nipples with her own moisture. He licked each nipple in turn, then sucked hard, savoring every last bit of her spicy essence. Karen let out a choked cry, and he swore his cock gained another inch. “God, you taste good.” A lick, a suck. Her rich scent teased him, flooded his brain, and he shook with the need to sink his tongue into her slick, hot core. “But I have to have the real thing.”

He slid down her body, palms spread on her inner thighs to pin them open. Her hot, wet sex slid against his belly and chest, and the rich scent of her arousal clouded his brain and drowned out everything but the need to possess.

He hooked his elbows under her knees, spreading her wide, and swallowed convulsively at the sight before him. Pink, slick, shiny with her own juices. He wanted to feast on her all night, but the exquisite friction of the sheets against his cock warned him he might not have much time.

Pausing a moment, he took a deep breath and wrestled his libido back to a manageable level. He had Karen Sullivan writhing under him, completely at his mercy, and he wasn’t going to blow it by losing control of himself again.

“Oh God, Mike,” she whispered, arching her hips up off the bed.

She wasn’t begging yet, but she would soon. He wanted to torture her more, but he couldn’t resist the lure of those plump, juicy lips. His head bent, his tongue snaking out to flick the sensitive flesh, and he smiled as she nearly jumped off the bed. She let out a frustrated whine as he softly blew on her clit, her hands fisting into the fabric of the bedspread.

Mike chuckled and grazed his tongue against her clit, running it up one side of the engorged nub and down the other, finally capturing it between his lips to suckle it with a gentle but firm pressure.

She wriggled beneath him, striving for deeper contact, but he stilled her with big hands that nearly spanned her hips. This was his show, they’d move at his speed. His head was full of her, her scent, her taste, her cries, and he grasped for the control threatening to slip away. The heels of those fuck-me shoes dug into his shoulders as she strove to lever herself off the mattress, the pain sending little pulses of sensation to his aching cock.

He warned himself to slow down, intending to torment her further until she was begging him to let her come. But all it took was another thrust of his tongue and her belly tightened, her thighs clamped around his head, and she shuddered, hot juices pouring into his mouth as she came.

He indulged in one last, deep taste, felt her jerk as though electrocuted. He pushed himself up, pleased by the slightly shell-shocked look in her glassy blue eyes.

Christ, he hoped she had condoms on her because he seriously thought he might die if he didn’t fuck her right now.

But as soon as his weight eased off her Karen scrambled out from under him and made a beeline for the bathroom. Cursing his slow reflexes, he watched her half-run, half-stagger on her ridiculous heels.

Maybe she’d read his mind and was going to get a condom.

He quickly quashed that notion as the door slammed and the click of the lock being engaged registered in his blood-deprived brain.

“What the fuck?” He pushed himself off the bed and marched determinedly to the bathroom. He heard the shower start. She thought she could come against his mouth and shower off without a word?

No fucking way,
he thought as he reached for the doorknob. They weren’t done until he said they were done.

Karen managed to unbuckle the flimsy straps of her shoes with shaky hands. After kicking them into a corner with a carelessness that belied their hefty price tag, she turned the shower on full blast, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up before she jumped in.

“What am I doing?” she said. She braced her hands against the tiled wall, shuddering both from the cold and the intensity of the climax she’d just experienced. She thought she had things under control when she’d gone down on him. Men were weak like that, and Karen had learned to exploit that weakness very early in life. But unlike most men, Mike hadn’t missed a beat and had instead dragged her off to the bedroom like a caveman bent on ravaging her.

Despite everything that had happened, she’d loved every second of it. No matter how forceful and demanding he got, she knew Mike would never, ever hurt her. Not physically anyway.

She shook her head, sending droplets of water against the wall. Oh Christ, how could she be so stupid? After two years of hard work and therapy, one look at Mike and she was right back where she started. Except with Mike it was worse, because he held a power over her body that no man ever could match.

She was stunned at how quickly she’d come. Tempting though it was, she couldn’t use her two-year sexual hiatus as an excuse. For years she’d faked it with her lovers, putting on Academy Award–worthy performances guaranteed to get her lovers off and get them off of her.

With Mike, damn him, there was no need to fake. Things were no different from the first time he’d ever touched her, back when she was eighteen. She still went off like a goddamn rocket and he barely even had to try.

“Get a grip, Karen.” She had to salvage this situation. She’d come once, and that had to be a fluke. She would cool off, walk out there like it was no big deal, and…
fuck his brains out!
an eager voice all but shouted in her head.
No, you’ll kick his ass out, now that you’ve gotten what you wanted,
the sly, manipulative voice she’d been trying to subdue for the past two years commanded.

Oh, but what she wouldn’t give to have his hands on her, feel his amazing cock driving inside her, impossibly hard, impossibly deep.

That’s what got you into trouble in the first place,
a voice warned.
Wanting Mike too much, losing control and doing stupid, dangerous things.

But I’m not a stupid teenager anymore. I can handle myself now, keep control of the situation…

And tonight is a good example?

The sound of wood cracking and the door banging against the wall startled Karen from her internal debate. Seconds later the shower curtain whipped open, and she couldn’t stop herself from trying to hide from Mike’s glower.

He smirked as he took in her pose, forearm over her breasts, her other palm pressed protectively between her legs.

“I think we’re a little past that, don’t you?” He stepped into the stall, dropping a foil packet in the soap dish.

The shower, which was actually quite spacious, suddenly felt cramped. Naked, with water running over the soft mat of dark hair that furred his chest, down the ripples of his abs, and over the jutting hardness of his erection, Mike was pure sex and intimidation.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, locking yourself in the bathroom, Karen,” he said, pressing her back against the wall and leaning into her. His head bent to capture her earlobe between his teeth. “We’re nowhere near finished.”

She couldn’t keep from rubbing against him as he bent his knees to align their pelvises. Her arms wound up around his neck and she threw herself into the kiss, stroking her tongue into his mouth, enjoying for a moment the sheer pleasure of mouth on mouth, tongue on tongue, skin on skin. Her nails dug into the resilient muscles of his back, and she moaned as his hand slid between her legs, cupping her sex and thrusting a finger deep inside.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he murmured.

She tried not to be hurt by the faint note of surprise in his voice. If he only knew how long it had been.

“I know you want to fuck me.” His words thrummed through her, in perfect concert with the intoxicating thrust of his thick finger, the gentle grind of his palm against her mound.

She didn’t want to tell him yes, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but she couldn’t stop a strangled sound erupting from her throat.

Thankfully, that seemed to be enough, because in seconds he’d sheathed himself and she felt herself being lifted off the floor, the broad head of his cock pressing just inside her soft folds.

And then all she could do was hang on to his shoulders as he slid her down his thick shaft. Her flesh stretched around him, yielding even as she gasped at the sharp pinch of pain. As though sensing her discomfort, he held back, kissing her softly as he stilled, allowing her to adjust before sliding her all the way down until she’d swallowed every inch of him.