Messalina: Devourer of Men (7 page)

“So what if I do?” I reply, perhaps too defensively. “No one can handle me the way I can.”

“Mmm, I don’t know, Evadne. Seems to me as if your control is ready to snap.” He traces my jaw with his finger. “What is it, girl? I hear that black women have a reputation for being lovers who take no shit.” His eyelids narrow. “Or is it all myth?”

Excitement rushes through me, warming and moistening my flesh, melting the cobwebs away. I’m enjoying this sparring match, but all I say is, “Myths survive on a kernel of truth.”

He grins. “Is that a challenge? I like a challenge.”

My gaze carves into his and I put my hands on my hips. As I do, it forces him to back up, but only a few inches. “You try me. Are you man enough to handle this?” I indicate my body with a flourish of a hand.

He reaches out with his glass and lets the cool, wet rim trace along my exposed collarbone, making me tremble.

“Girl,” he sighs, shaking his head, “don’t you know that when you ice your passion, you just make it hotter when it’s thawed?”

We stand, for what seems like hours, waiting for the first sign of weakness in the other. He tips his glass, letting a trickle of wine spill onto my shoulder.

“Oops.” He smiles and bends forward to lick the wine away, trailing his tongue up the side of my neck. When his lips connect with mine they are wet and sweet and I let his kiss engulf me.

Taking me by the waist, he navigates us back inside with the grace of a ballroom dancer as we maintain our kiss. Soon I’m on my Victorian fainting couch in a position many Victorian women probably never had the luxury to experience as Jared’s voyage of discovery takes him down between my thighs, his hair caressing me like silk.

As he pushes up my dress, I figure he’ll just give me a cursory nibble and move on like other men, but he sighs with contentment, a crusader reaching his pilgrimage. Without hesitation, he places my legs over his shoulders and spreads my intimate lips so he can lick each inner fold. One moment he’s soft, the next he’s rough, and the contrast is exquisite. When he manipulates my little power switch with his expert tongue and she stands at attention. He blows on her gently and I’m dropped into an abyss of sensation making me release a trickle of my pleasure.

“Mmm,” he moans. “Skin like cappuccino but tastes like mocha.”

A squeal escapes my lips. Jesus Christ, I got me a connoisseur.

Jared seizes my hips in a vise-like grip while his mouth makes a seal to suction the hot liqueur seeping from me and I explode. My hands grip his head between my thighs while my pelvis thrusts against his face. Considering our first encounter, he is running true to form and is about to make me come again.

Tears come to my eyes in spite of my trying not to get carried away. This is a sweet release, and he’s right. My iced passion is melting and it’s hot, wet. He drinks from me and I gladly satisfy his thirst. When he finally rises, his expression is like one who has overindulged in a bacchanalian feast.

“Jared,” I whisper and touch his face. He blinks and snaps out of his reverie. His eyes focus on me as he kisses the Betty Boop tattoo located above my left hipbone. He climbs between my legs, which reflexively encircle his waist. We’re still dressed, but his cock is tenting his pants and is hard and swollen against me. I close my eyes, remembering how I saw it in the theater. Lacing my fingers behind his neck, I smile. “I was getting worried about you down there.”

His kiss forces me deep into the cushions. I taste myself on his lips and strain to get more, leaving us both gasping for air. A high-pitched beep goes off. He raises his head and takes a look at the phone he’s taken from his pocket.

“Fuck.” He looks at me and strokes my cheek. “Eva, I gotta go. My plane.”

My loins literally ache for him. I tighten my legs around his waist. His body trembles and he tries to calm his urge by pressing into me. Big mistake. Gasping, we shudder at the electric charge it provokes between us. He shakes his head rapidly, sucking air through his teeth.

“Sugar, please,” he says, voice straining. “If I stay, I risk having an accident. I’m about to do myself an injury as it is.” He makes a pointed glance to his crotch and I can see his distress.

“Here, allow me.” In seconds I have him on his feet with his pants down and my hand cupping his crotch. He looks down at me in surprise. Looking him straight in the eyes, I lick my lips. I’m going to enjoy this.
He’s
going to enjoy it. He swallows again, his breath expelling hard and fast from flared nostrils.

“Evadne,” he groans, like a soul in torment as my lips make contact.

I hold his cock with both hands. He is rock hard. I won’t be able to deep-throat him. That would take practice, lots and lots of practice. He plunges his fingers into the depths of my hair as I give his cock a gentle tug and trace the network of throbbing veins with my tongue.

Down, down, down the shaft I go and into the short curly hairs that tickle my nose at the base. I bury my face there, inhaling his spicy scent. The tip of his cock pushes between the plush pillows of my breasts, which I cup with my hands and squeeze, trapping his cock inside as I nuzzle.

Jared upgrades his caress to pawing. I continue licking his base before pulling my head back slightly.

“Don’t leave me this way,” I moan, close enough for my breath to feel cool against the moist skin of his erection. His cock twitches. I position myself and slowly enclose my lips around the head of it, relishing the girth as my mouth takes him in as far as it can. Again, he sucks his breath through his teeth and groans.

Tongue swirling, jaw pumping, I make sounds of contentment. He is my feast. I’m in heaven, and from the sounds he’s making, I’m sure he feels closer too.

“Eva-ah-ahh—yes! God—
damn
, work your mouth, just like that.”

I continue for as long as my jaw allows and his cock has grown to maximum capacity. He holds my head in place and thrusts forward, but I keep focused so as not to gag. Instead, I wrap my hands around his firm thighs urging for more. I want it all.

“Jesus, your mouth feels so good. So wet . . . so fucking wet.”

He falls silent, gaining force. I look up and see his eyes are closed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his face contorted. I’ve seen that look before at The DeLuxe. He’s going to come.

He can’t see my Cheshire grin as I continue. With his cock thoroughly lubricated, I move away as a pearly tear drops from its eye.

“Aw,” I coo, rubbing his cock against my cheek. “Don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart. Eva’s gonna make it better.”

“Evadne,” he growls. “You’re killing me. Let me come. Please, I’ve got to.”

“Not yet, you don’t.” I squeeze the base of his cock, making him grit his teeth. “You still have that plane to catch?”

He can’t articulate a response.

Putting my forefinger in my mouth to get it wet, I prepare to make him come so hard that if I don’t blow his mind, I’m wasting my time.

“I can’t hear you, Jared. Do you still have to catch that flight?”

In an amazing show of self-control, he exhales slowly through clenched teeth. “Sugar, I have to.” He shudders again. “Eva, darlin’, please. Let me—”

With only seconds to spare, I take a swig of Asti from my glass. I release his cock and slowly slip my moistened forefinger through the slightly relaxed ring of his ass before enveloping his penis with a mouthful of liquid effervescence.

Never in all my life have I heard sounds from a man like the ones coming out of Jared as he explodes inside my mouth. It’s part groan, part cry, part curse, but all orgasm. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’s in pain. Maybe he is.

Eyes closed, I concentrate on keeping my finger up his ass and my mouth around his cock drinking my cocktail and purring like the contented black pussy I am.

“Aw,
fuck
!”

Another spurt shoots to the back of my throat. Some of it dribbles past my lips and trickles down his shaft, but I’m quick to go after it. I want to swallow all of his excitement. I want everything he can give and more before I’ll let him go. Finally, I take my mouth away.

“Gonna leave me, lover?” I push my finger even deeper inside his clenched ass, making him thrust.

His labored breathing sounds as if he just ran a marathon and I fear his legs may buckle. And although his cock is spent, I see enough life left in him that I’m smiling with expectation. He sighs, caressing my head, his thumbs glide down my cheekbones.

“Holy sweet mother of Jesus . . .”

He takes a step back and I look in his face; it’s drained of color. His eyes are red, his hair is disheveled, and sweat beads on his brow. He shakes his head like a man who’s just taken the ride of his life. He helps me to my feet. Grasping both sides of my face he lays a soul kiss on me and moans as I give him a taste of sperm-enhanced Spumante. When we part, he stares at me with amazement. But soon there’s a desperate look in his eyes.

“Eva, listen to me. I have to go—now.” 

My longing turns to disbelief and he reads it in my face.

“Sugar, please understand,” he pleads, a note of anxiety and concern in his voice.

Here I am, for the first time in three years, ready to get fucked and not just felt up. He has gotten me so hot my dress is plastered to me like a second skin.

Enough is enough. I’m not letting him get away again. I put my hands on his shoulders and shove him onto the couch. From the surprised look on his face, I think he has realized that my size belies my strength. I straddle him.

“Jared Delaney, you are exactly five seconds away from being date-raped. Any last words?”

Chapter Four

“Flight”

            Jared stares at me, breathless and open-mouthed. The look in his eyes is unfathomable but his jaw is set in a firm line. I don’t know this man, but I think I’ve gone too far.

            “Get your purse,” he says. “Now.”

            I don’t know what startles me more, his tone or his request. I back off, letting him get up to pull his pants on.

            “Get your purse,” he repeats, raking his hands through his hair. “You’re coming with me.”

            He zips his trousers and, before I can take a step, he grabs my wrist and drags me towards the foyer. Obviously, I’m not moving fast enough.

            It’s half past eleven and Jared is rushing me to his car. Parked under a streetlamp, I see a black 1966 Chevelle. As I climb in and inhale the scent of vinyl upholstery, something comes over me. Call it lust, but as I watch him slide behind the wheel, it’s my turn to devour him with my eyes. He turns the key, revs the engine, and at that moment, both the car and me are alike: black, sleek, and our motors purring and ready to go. He turns to me.

            “Evadne,” he asks, surprise in his voice, “are you growling?”

            He pulls me over for a kiss. It’s deep, passionate, but cut painfully short when he moves away to take a breath. “Hold on, girl, because when I get you alone I’m …”

            He doesn’t finish but I can see it in his eyes.

            I’m amazed we don’t get ticketed or killed on our way to Denver International Airport. Once inside, he keeps his frantic pace, dragging me along like a barge in tow. He handles me and his luggage with ease. I can’t wipe the stupid grin off my face as I allow myself to be hauled across state lines for the sake of sex.

            The red-eye flight is nearly empty and I experience flying first class for the first time in my life. Despite his gracious offer of the window seat, I choose the aisle. Flying from Denver to Dallas is a fairly short trip, but I suspect it’s going to be hard for us to keep from joining the Mile High Club.

            Once we’re in the air, we engage in another deep kiss when the captain turns off the seatbelt sign. Jared pushes up the armrest separating us so we can move closer. He grabs my wrist when I pat the rise in his trousers and he shakes his head. I groan and he makes me look at him.

“We have to do this right.” His lips find mine and I smile as we kiss. “What is it?” he asks.

            Crossing my legs allows the hem of my dress to slink up higher. He notices and I sigh to make my chest heave seductively.

            “Jared, when we get to Dallas . . . what are you going to do to me?”

            He leans forward and buries his face in my cleavage. His lips excite my exposed skin. I stroke the back of his neck and inhale the clean scent of his hair. He raises his head to look at me. The hand he has on top of my thigh is warm and smooth and inches higher up my leg. His lips barely touch mine.

“When I get you alone, Eva, I’m gonna claim every inch of your body.”

            My breathing quickens and he kisses the tip of my nose.

            “Wherever my hands go, my lips, teeth, and tongue will follow.” His tongue flicks against the corner of my mouth. “I’m going to taste you, bite you . . . I’m gonna eat you, girl.”

            He proceeds to give me a sample of each and it’s a good thing my legs are crossed. I put my head on his shoulder as he continues.