Hating Beauty (The Vegas Titans Series Book 6) (5 page)

“Well darlin, still want me to take
off my pants?”

I’m having trouble catching my
breath.

“Why,” I whisper. “Why didn’t you
–”

But before I can finish my question
he answers it by pouncing on me, his lips seizing mine, his bare arms winding
around my bare waist, his hands in my hair.

Chapter Seven

Katja/Jana/Mystery Girl

The knives and the gun tumble from
my hands to the floor, forgotten.

This is not the kind of attack I’d
expect from a killer, from a criminal, and I know beyond doubt that he must be
that kind of man. I know it, and somehow don’t care. But this is an attack
nonetheless, an attack that I yearned for and yield to instantly.

My breasts are crushed against his
bare chest, and the feel of his strong arms on my back imprisons me even more
than my desire. He’s much stronger than me, much more capable of violence. Even
his kiss is like a storm. I can feel the violence beneath his touch, the
carefully controlled strength, the self-awareness and control that somehow
ignites me with lust. His kisses are overpoweringly intense yet achingly
tender, both dominating and willing to please.

“Oh god, Katja,” he moans. “I want
you.”

And to my amazement I am kissing
him back just as fiercely, just as hungrily, just as wildly. His hot mouth
opens and his tongue plunges under mine, setting my spine on fire, making me
think what it would be like if I let it go too far. Would it burn me like this,
turning my insides into flame?

Would it consume me?

Destroy me?

“Wait,” I breathe.

He pulls back, staring at my face
in question.

“Okay,” he pants. “Sure. Yeah. Wait.
You’re right. We should wait. No, please, by all means. We’ve got all the time
in the world. Nothing to do, nowhere to go…”

Somehow his dry sense of humor
always makes me relax, and as I grin I realize I don’t know his name. It’s
another reason why I shouldn’t do this, why this is crazy.

Stupid, actually. This is stupid.

But reason doesn’t interest me
right now. My animal instincts have kicked in to overdrive and I know that the
conclusion of this burning kiss is inevitable. I’ve already decided, for all my
pretense of hesitation. It’s a dance as old as time.

“Um, never mind,” I murmur, running
my fingers through his hair. “I forgot what I was going to say.”

It’s enough to know he’d stop if I
asked. It’s enough that I do have some kind of control, all appearance to the
contrary. But I can’t stop touching him, not even for wisdom, not even to save
my life. I find myself kissing him now, straining my entire body to get closer
to his, our thighs intertwining. He makes a guttural sound in the back of his
throat that makes my legs feel like water.

“No, you’re right, we shouldn’t do
this,” he mutters between kisses.

“This is foolish,” I agree. “We
should stop.”

“Yeah. Absolutely. Foolish.”

My hands are running over his
chest, wandering down his abs, tugging at the waistband of his jeans.

“I can totally stop,” he says,
cupping his hands over my ass and pulling my hips sharply, crushing me against
his pelvis. “I mean, if you want me to stop.”

A gasp escapes my lips as he
presses himself into me, the hardness of his erection tantalizing me even
through the layers of clothes he is still wearing. I can feel myself hungry for
him, eager to feel him inside me.

“Is that what you want?” He asks.

He’s holding me close, a prisoner.
There’s no room for thought. His hands on my ass hold me tight against him,
making me feel the unrelenting pressure of his arousal.

“You like that?”

He walks me backward until we slam
into a wall and he turns, using his hips to hold me prisoner as he traces his
hands over the outline of my bra.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs,
kissing my neck. “Tell me to stop, Katja.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Tell me what you want, because I
want to fuck you. I want to fuck you hard and then I want to fuck you soft and
then I want to fuck you again. I want to fuck you until you can’t feel your
legs, until you forget your name. I want to lick your entire body, wrap your
legs around me, and fuck you standing up. Laying down. Sitting. Backwards. I
want to fuck you with my fingers, my tongue, my cock. I want to make you
scream.”

His frankness makes me feel dizzy.

“Tell me what you want, Katja.”

“I want you.”

“Yes. Tell me.”

“I want you to touch me.”

My bra snaps off in his hands as if
by magic, and my breasts tumble out. He sucks his breath in sharply.

“Tell me, Katja.”
“I want your mouth on me. I want you between my legs.”

“Fuck you’re awesome.”

First he simply closes his hands
over my exposed breasts and kisses my mouth, long and slow, acclimatizing me to
his intimate touch. Then his thumbs begin to move over my nipples, stroking
until they harden and pucker into peaks of pleasure. Then he kisses his way
down my throat and clavicle.

Now it’s my turn to gasp as his
mouth closes over the tender skin of my nipple, biting and teasing my flesh in
his teeth.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, “Wow.”

It’s primal and wild and makes me
feel suddenly wet and eager in my snatch. He bites and kisses my breasts, rubs
his face in them, touches and squeezes them, all the while keeping his legs
firmly planted around me like a hedge. I love it, the mixture of sensations,
the sensitivity of my skin, and the sureness of his touch.

“More,” I beg.

As he nips and bites my breasts one
of his hands comes up suddenly and firmly between my legs, simply holding me in
his grasp, sending a spike of heat all along my pubic mound.

“I want this,” he says, gripping me
tighter. “May I?”

I nod, biting my lip in
anticipation.

My hands fly to his shoulders to
steady myself against the flood of sensations, as his fingers push aside my
underwear and begin to stroke along the wet length of my sex.

“Oh baby you feel so wet. I can’t
wait to be in there.”

“Yes,” I moan. “Harder.”

He obliges, increasing the pressure
and rhythm until my clit is throbbing and screaming under his touch.

“That feels so good. Yes. Harder!”

Tongues of fire connect every part
of my body to the concentrated pleasure under his fingers. Just as I’m about to
burst he pushes his fingers inside me, thrusting upward, hard.

“Ah!”

“Yeah girl.”

My whole body lurches and stars
seem to pop all over my vision, and I feel his kisses again all over my breasts
and belly. My body opens around him, desperately adjusting to accommodate. He
thrusts even harder with his fingers. Again. And again.

“Yes! Ah!”

“You like me in there don’t you.”

“So good.”

“I like the feel of your pussy,
girl. I like the way you smell. I like you wet. I’m gonna fuck you so hard.
Harder than this.”

He thrusts his hand again, deeper,
and I feel a burst of warmth. My knees start to buckle from the pleasure: in
one swift movement he wraps his free arm around my chest and lifts me up, his
fingers still inside me, and kisses me as he carries me over to the bed.
Somehow he manages to be gentle as he flops me on my back, surging over me with
his body until his face stops between my legs. He takes a long breath through
his nose.

“You smell so good baby. I want to
taste you.”

Then he’s kissing me on my sex, the
heat and softness of his lips making me melt. His tongue, rough and wet,
follows the path his hands blazed a moment ago. He licks at me, strokes me, and
then plunges his tongue inside me, thrusting with it in a dizzying rhythm,
circling my clit with his thumb.

“Oh god,” I wail.

I’m coming to pieces. My body is
coming to pieces. He sees and pushes me past the brink of my endurance, having
no mercy.

“Cum, baby, yeah.”

Now his fingers are inside me
again, thrusting, while his tongue sucks and caresses my clit. Who is this man,
who finds all the right places for me to come alive in his hands? The pressure,
the speed—so wet, so good.

“God!”

“Yeah girl, cum.”

“Jesus!”

“Come on girl.”

“Please!”

“Mmm.”

The orgasm takes me and my muscles
clamp down like bear traps, shaking me to the core. My legs and arms twitch,
and though I dig my fingers into his hair it doesn’t save me from the white
fire, the blinding ecstasy. He presses his tongue against my clit even harder,
riding out my fury, and watches me with mischievous eyes. When I slump back to
the bed in a gasping heap, he sits on his haunches and rubs his thumb on me,
laughing when I twitch.

“Wow,” I pant.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “God you’re sexy
when you cum. Don’t worry, girl. The party’s just getting started. I’m gonna
make you cum again.”

“How are you possibly still wearing
your jeans?” I laugh.

He chuckles. “Priorities, I guess.”

“This won’t work.”

I push him back until he’s standing
beside the bed and I start to unbuckle the pants. As I do he runs his hands
through my hair, letting his fingertips trace along my exposed throat. I help
him step out of his jeans, I can’t help but stare at him for a moment, his
narrow hips and muscled thighs exposed before me in naked splendor.

He’s got the body of a god, a rock
star, a fighter. He’s got the body of someone who knows how to use their body,
someone who uses it all the time, pushes it, punishes it, enjoys it, and loves
it. Someone who is
in
their body. Someone who is fucking sexier than any
of the movie stars I idolized as a young girl.

And his dick! It’s right there
before my face, fully erect and bigger and smoother than I’d thought it would
be.

Of course I’d thought about it.

I may live with nuns, but I am not
one.

He grins down at me, guiding my
hands to his waist, and sliding them down until he closes my fingers around the
length of his cock. Then he puts his hands in my hair and pulls my face towards
his hips. His touch is gentle, not rough, but I know what he wants.

“Suck me,” he grunts. “I want to
feel your mouth on me.”

The skin of his enormous cock is
smooth and glides in my mouth like a perfect fit. His groans of pleasure make
me even wetter in my own sex, even more excited, and before long I can feel us
both trembling with need.

“Stop,” he moans, pushing my head
back. “Don’t make me cum, I need to fuck you.”

Before I know what’s happening, he
has me on my back on the bed.

“I need you now Katja. I want my
cock in your pussy. I want to fuck you.”

He’s kissing his way up my belly
and breasts, my throat and face.

“I want all of you, woman. Tell me
yes or no.”

“Yes.”

Yes.

It’s the wildest thing I’ve ever
said—yes, yes to this man whose name I don’t know, who I’ve only ever seen once
before. A stranger.

Yes.

Yes to my enemy. Yes to impulse.
Yes to pleasure.

It has to be yes, I don’t know why;
there’s no time to think or explain, but my whole body answers him. My skin is
scalding hot, but cold with goose bumps at the same time. My pussy is primed
and desperate. My whole body curls towards him, writhing in excitement.

His sensual lips press into a
carnal smile that sense chills all the way to my toes.

“Yes,” he repeats. “Oh yes, Katja.”

I don’t bother to tell him that
Katja is not my name. Who am I that I am saying yes to him? Even I do not know
who I am now.

There’s a foil condom wrapper in
his fingers, somehow, and he manages to pry it open with his teeth in between
kisses. I feel his heady, heavy bodyweight shift over me as he rolls the condom
over the impressive length of his hardware. I like feeling his body on top of me,
his size and his strength. I like knowing how strong his body is, how
potentially dangerous.

And yet so attentive and delicious.

Wrapped, he uses his knee to pry
open my thighs, positioning his cock at the crest of me. His rod is a hard, hot
pressure that sears and spears me as he surges his body into mine, a long
relentless thrust that drives my senses over the edge.

“God!” I gasp.

“Yes!” He moans.

I am full to the brim with his
dick, amazed at the thrilling sensation of his size and power. He thrusts
inside me like he belongs there, resting at the peak of penetration with a
euphoric but serious look on his face. It’s a moment of strange kismet—a
feeling of familiarity, of comfort or rightness, along with intense throbbing
sensation. But I try to shake off the déjà vu, gritting my teeth against the
pleasurable pressure and tilting my hips to receive him better.

He moans and rocks his hips back,
easing the pressure, only to thrust again, faster. We both gasp and tremble
against each other at the zenith. Once again he pauses, fully sheathed in my
flesh, and now subtly rolls himself inside me. It’s a movement that leaves no
part of me unknown or unpleased.

Slow. Sensual. Intimate.

“Oh god!”

My hands fly onto his back, digging
in for a hold, as his movement speeds up. He’s rocking in and out, reaming me, his
eyes closed as he explores.

“Your pussy is perfect,” he moans.
“You feel perfect. Perfect.”

In a sudden frenzy he arches back
to bite and kiss my breasts, all the while rocking his cock deep and hard into
me in a merciless rhythm.

“Oh, yes,” I almost scream,
catching myself at the last moment.

“Yeah girl.”

“Oh!”

One of his hands covers my breast
as he fucks me, thrusting harder and faster. My entire body is on fire, a
bundle of tingly, drunken nerves simmering towards explosion.

“Oh!”

“Yes!”

“Oh god!”

“Yeah.”

“More! Harder!”

“Oh baby.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

The friction, the heat, the rhythm
are pushing me past my breaking point. Our bodies surge and melt together until
I can’t imagine my body without his cock inside, pounding, relentlessly wearing
away an ache I’d never noticed before.