His Plaything (5 page)

There was no scandal in tending to a wounded warrior, Jayla tried to tell herself. She had purchased Garrett's skill as a mercenary to win back her father's throne. It was only fair that she clean the injuries sustained in her service. Her royal sense of duty would stand for nothing less. But her fingers trembled on his body, glistening with sweat in the campfire's light.

Ooh … I could almost picture Garrett's lean, taut muscles. Or was he more buff, like Nixon? The sexy mercenary had been introduced way back at the beginning and I'd long since forgotten exactly what he looked like. Definitely battle-scarred, though. Did Nixon have any scars? I hadn't seen any, but maybe I'd been too busy staring at his cock to notice. I forced my attention back to the story. Damn, I'd skipped over a couple paragraphs without even noticing.

She couldn't deny what she felt for Garrett—or fail to notice the way he looked at her. It would be so easy to let him take what they both wanted. But she had promised to marry Duke Wagnaf in exchange for his aid. When she was once more the princess of Orvany, he would become her prince.

That day was so very far away, though. And right now, Garrett was so very close.

She leaned into his touch, her boldness surprising them both. Garrett wasted no time laying her down by the fire. Their lips met in the first wild kiss of many. His hand slipped under her skirts and she gasped at his deft torment. “Please,” she begged, “I'm more than ready.”

My breath coming a little faster, I let one hand wander, sliding into my robe in imitation of Garrett's touch. The other hand kept scrolling:

Jayla moaned as he filled her. His sure, swift thrusts struck deep into her center. It felt so good to finally close the gap between them—a pleasure so intense, she could barely draw a breath to cry out. But cry out she did. Before she knew it, she was coming undone around him.

“I'm not finished with you yet, milady,” he breathed into her ear. Her blood stirred again at the promise in his husky voice. If only for one night, she would surrender herself to passion.

Soon I lost all track of time, absorbed in the characters' forbidden lust and my own need for relief. Slowly but surely, my mental image of Garrett morphed into Nixon—his dark hair and piercing blue eyes and sculpted body. By the time I realized it, I was too far gone to care.

Chapter 9

Nixon

It had seemed at first like I couldn't freaking get rid of Avery. But after breakfast on Saturday, I turned around while washing dishes to see a suddenly empty chair. And she stayed AWOL for almost an entire week. I could count the number of times I'd seen her on one hand—one very tired hand, thanks to her no-nookie rule—which for some unknown reason I was actually following. What the fuck was going on with that woman? Did studying the history of lipstick, or whatever the hell her classes were about, really keep her this busy? Was she cooking meth in her bedroom? Or was this little disappearing act just some passive-aggressive female bullshit? My curiosity was killing me.

Finally, on Thursday night, I came home from goofing around with Fox and Logan to find her bedroom door shut. She never did that unless she was hiding in there. I stowed my sandy shoes in the boot tray and walked closer to her door. I could hear noises coming from inside; they were very quiet, but she was definitely home. If I wanted to confront her about why she'd been avoiding me, it was now or never.

“You alive?” I called. When no answer came, I frowned.
No way she can't hear me.
I started to open the door. “C'mon, Avery, we need to talk abou—”

The words caught in my throat. I stood there like an idiot, still holding the doorknob, unable to believe what I was seeing.

My stepsister was sprawled over the bed, her creamy thighs spread wide—and her hand buried between them. Raw lust jolted through me and my cock throbbed to instant, painful hardness. She looked like a Playboy centerfold ripped straight from my wet dreams. Eyes squeezed shut, brow furrowed, cheeks stained pink. Her robe had fallen open to reveal her stiff nipples and slick pussy lips. She worked herself almost frantically, two glistening fingers plunging deep inside while she rubbed her clit with the heel of her hand. The sound of her finger fucking herself harmonized with her whimpers of desperation. She hadn't been crying out in bliss, I realized through my fog of arousal. She was frustrated and unfulfilled. Struggling after relief that was always just out of reach. Had she been just as horny as me this whole time?

Avery's eyes fluttered—then snapped fully open at the sight of me. She gave a shrill yelp and yanked her robe back around her gorgeous body. “W-what … Nixon! What the hell? Why don’t you ever fucking knock?” she yelled, struggling to tie the belt shut.

“I, uh … heard noises coming from your room. I was worried.”

“You really think I'm dumb enough to believe that?” She snatched up a pillow and threw it at me. It fell short by almost a foot. “Get out!”

Okay, that wasn't the best excuse I've ever come up with … but I'm not letting this chance slip away.
Her glare wavered as I stalked closer, pinning her with my heated gaze. “Really? It looks like you could use some help getting off. I'd be happy to lend a hand.” I licked my lips with a slight smile. “Or a tongue.”

Her eyes darkened and flashed on mine. Her lashes fluttered—she had looked down, just for a split second, fast enough that I could have mistaken it for shyness. But there was no way she could miss the raging bulge in my jeans. She was fighting with herself. And that meant some part of her was actually considering my offer.

The air felt as thick and heavy as a gathering thunderstorm. Taking a chance, I sat down beside Avery on the bed, keeping my feet on the floor. Not touching her—not yet. But I was still close enough to smell her arousal. The few inches of space between us crackled with sexual energy. Soon, I intended to close that distance altogether.

“You … I had everything under control,” she said, trying to sound indignant. But her voice shook and I could hear a ragged undertone of need. And she hadn't pulled back. She hadn't even ordered me off the bed.

I shook my head, unable to hold back a smirk. “You can't hide from me. I saw you with your fingers buried in your cunt, remember?”

She gave the tiniest, cutest squeak of embarrassment I'd ever heard. With an effort, I forced myself back to the task at hand.
So to speak.
“I know what a woman looks like when she's coming, and you weren't anywhere near it.”

Her rosy lips—almost the same color as her nipples, I couldn't help but notice—pressed into a thin line. “Right. How could I forget your godlike expertise? I guess even you can learn something about women when you've screwed enough to fill a phone book.”
And I'm just the latest in that long line
, she didn't have to add.

Shit, I'd said the exact wrong thing. I silently cursed my junior teammate's big mouth. “Okay, granted, Fox wasn't lying yesterday. I've had my share of wild and crazy times.” I reached out to rest my hand on hers. “But right now, though … all I'm thinking about is you.”
And your gorgeous, tight little pussy that looks good enough to eat.

If she had flinched or looked away, that would have been the end of it. But she just watched me, wide-eyed and barely breathing. Like she was daring me to speak. Like an alley cat, a half-wild thing, her skittishness perfectly balanced with her curiosity and desire. Whatever I did next would decide everything. The slightest mistake could tip her mental scales and send her into flight. Or fight, given what I'd seen of her fiery streak.

Taking another leap of faith, I lifted her still-wet fingers to my nose. She blinked, expression flashing from confusion to shock, but she didn't pull back her hand. My eyes slid shut as I inhaled her sweet, heady musk. Just the scent of her arousal felt like a shot of tequila, clouding my mind and burning all the way down past my stomach. My cock strained against my zipper. Before I knew it, my lips had closed around her fingers. I took them deep, sucking and licking to get every tangy drop, wishing I could taste her juices at the source instead.

She whimpered, and I almost moaned in response. Oh,
fuck
—one hit and I was addicted. I wanted to pull that sweet little noise from her lips again and again. Her already-huge eyes had widened even further, their beautiful jade green almost eclipsed by black pupils. She was completely captivated. All the cautious judgment in her stare had evaporated, leaving only lust. Pure surrender.

Knowing she wouldn't lie now, I asked, “How long has it been since you've come?” My lips brushed her fingers as I spoke.

Her own lips parted, caught off guard by the question. But she never broke my gaze. Eventually, reluctantly, she answered: “A while.”

That's a crime against humanity if I've ever heard one.
My mind was racing, leaping from image to image in a haze of lust. Avery's expression of mixed shock and desire when she'd walked in on me fucking Pam. Our first dinner together, when she'd told me such painful secrets without letting her brave smile falter. Bouncing down the hallway naked and dripping from the shower. Taunting me by flirting with my friends in that criminally fuckable outfit. Ever since last Saturday, it felt like I'd been constantly rock hard, just waiting for the chance to have her. And nothing helped. I had intensified my workout routines and started jacking off twice a day, like I was a goddamn teenager again, but I still couldn't shut this obsession down. Even when I went out to the bars, where I could snag any frog hog I wanted, none of the women I saw set my blood on fire like the mere thought of Avery did.

Right then, all I wanted was to get her off. I was about to show her that I was dead fucking serious about my proposal from our first day. Specifically, the part about making her come so hard she forgot her own name—and then I'd keep going, again and again, until neither of us could take another second of pleasure. Once she got a taste of what I could make her feel, I was willing to bet that she wouldn't walk away.

Still holding her wrist, I let my other hand drift up to her face, ghosting along her jaw to her chin. “If you want me out of here, I'll leave. I promise. But I also promise that … if you don't say no, right now … I'm going to kiss you.”

She made a soft, throaty noise that just barely sounded like
uh-huh
. It was needy and plaintive, almost a whine, and I couldn't resist any longer. My hand slipped around the back of her head, pulling her close. I leaned in and locked my lips to hers.

Her mouth opened to me immediately. Our warm tongues slid over each other in sensual exploration. My fingers tangled in her long, damp hair; she smelled of sex and flowery shampoo. Even after her shower, I could taste the slightest traces of vanilla from the lip gloss she must have worn to class that day. I nibbled on her lower lip, teasing and tasting the soft flesh, and she sighed in bliss. Her small, tight body squirmed against me, trying to get closer. Her hands clutched at my biceps, then my shoulders and back, as if she couldn't decide where to touch first. Unable to resist her heat, I kissed harder, tongue skating along the roof of her mouth. My other hand slipped into her robe to cup and knead her firm, perky tits. She moaned and I felt her melt back against the pillows. This kiss was the answer I'd needed all along—she wanted me every bit as much as I wanted her. I wondered if she could taste her own flavor on my lips and groaned at the thought.

The thought that Avery was mine, finally all mine, was almost too much to bear. Soon, I would be hearing her cries right in my ear instead of through a door. But I couldn't just spread her legs and take her yet. Even if she didn't need it, she deserved a little more finesse than that. And I wanted to take full advantage of the moment.

I pulled away and almost lost my resolve at the lost look on her face. “Strip for me,” I ordered, as gently as I could manage when my cock felt ready to explode. “I want to see you.”

Avery was primed and ready, all right—she barely hesitated. Watching for my reaction, she went up on her knees and untied her robe. I stared hungrily as it slipped off her shoulders to reveal the perfect body I'd glimpsed last Saturday. I undid my pants, giving a sigh of relief when my aching cock sprang free, and kicked them off as I pulled my shirt over my head. I let her stare at me for a moment before adding, “Now lay down on your back and spread your legs.”

Once she had obeyed, I lay face-down between her knees and propped myself up on my elbows. This would be my first good look at her, and I'd be damned if I didn't take my time.

She was pink, slick, and fucking perfect. I gave her clit a long, slow lick from bottom to top and relished her loud gasp just as much as the taste. But I didn't have the patience right now to play around too much—hell, she probably didn't either. I quickly settled into steady, side-to-side strokes with the flat of my tongue, teasing her opening with my fingertips. As soon as her noises started to subside, telling me that she'd gotten accustomed to what I was doing, I slipped one finger inside up to the second knuckle. Then another finger. Then I curled them to tease her G-spot while my tongue kept working her clit.

Suddenly she gave a wild, keening cry and bucked up. Her thighs locked around my head and her nails dug into my scalp. Her inner muscles spasmed around my fingers, so hard I couldn't have pulled them out if I tried. I kept going with everything I had until she mewled and pushed me away, too overstimulated to even say “stop.”

Goddamn, woman, you come like a freight train.
I felt a weird flash of territorial pride. Out of nowhere, I thought of Avery's first lover. The only other guy she'd ever had sex with—I didn't even know him, but he suddenly pissed me off. Had he ever eaten her out? Was he as good at it as me? If her explosive reaction was anything to judge by, the answer to one or both of those questions was probably “no.” What a damn shame. But I was here now, and I would show Avery just how incredible sex could be.

“So fucking sexy,” I commented with raised eyebrows. “You really must've been pent up.” She nodded slowly, still blissed out, and I smiled to myself. I could get used to seeing her like that. I licked my fingers clean, amused at the way her eyes snapped to my mouth. “Are you ready for the main event?” I asked.

A shadow crossed her face. Hesitation. “I…”

“Hey, it's fine. I don't want you to be unsure.” I leaned over her splayed body for another kiss, more gentle this time. Then I breathed into her ear: “The first time we do this, it'll be because you're begging to ride my dick.”

She shivered, eyes glazing over for a second. “O-okay.” Then she glanced down between our bodies at my still-hard cock. “Don't you … want to come?” she asked.

“Well, I wouldn't mind.” The joke fell a little flat; I needed to get off so bad I was dripping onto the sheets. “But don't feel like you have to do anything if you're not comfortable.”

“N-no, I'm okay.” Her gaze kept darting between my eyes and my wet, straining cock. “Maybe … I could … take care of that for you?”

I couldn't nod fast enough.
Yes, dear God, please.
She was so goddamn cute. So curious and horny, but still too shy to say “blow job” out loud, even when she was right about to do it.

I sat back against the headboard and Avery knelt between my legs. With eyes wide and cheeks pink, she curled her hand around my shaft and ran her tongue over the slick head. I made a guttural noise that was meant to be supportive, but came out desperate. She bobbed her head, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence, flickering her tongue across the sensitive underside and pumping her tight fist.

As far as pure technique went, it wasn't the best blowjob I'd ever gotten in my life—but I'd had no idea that the sweet little fashion princess was
this
good at sucking dick, and she was clearly enjoying herself. The noises she made as she panted for breath through her nose and the sight of her spit-shiny lips sliding over my cock were almost enough to make me blow my load right then and there. Soon my moans weren't just for encouragement. I could already feel the warmth in my belly coming to a boil, my muscles all tensing and loosening at once. I tried to cut myself some slack; I'd been abstinent for nine months, insanely horny for a week, and fooling around with Avery for almost an hour. Time just wasn't on my side.