Wicked Angel Page 7

  And I am thrusting.

  My hips are moving, and I can’t help myself.

  I cup her face, starting to pump into her. She stares with wide, trusting eyes while her fingers still move over my scar, then down the front of my thigh until she reaches the jagged point at the end just above my kneecap.

  My breathing turns erratic as I concentrate not only on the feel of her, but also on the way in which she’s letting me use her. Her mouth is an open vessel—her throat a private affair. And yet, she’s granted me complete access.

  Elena’s hands slide to the back of my thighs. She shifts again, taking me in deeper.

  “Going to come,” I mutter, more to myself than for her benefit. I know without a doubt Elena would never want me to pull out.

  As if to prove theory, she swallows me down deeper than before as she moans loudly. The vibrations skitter all over my cock, and it’s my undoing.

  My hands tighten on her face, my hips thrusting forward causing her to choke slightly, but then I hold perfectly still as I start to come into her throat. She swallows repetitively, drinking me down, and I swear I think I come a second time as another violent wave of pleasure hits me.

  It seems to go on and on, my vision dimming a moment before turning brighter. The entire time, my eyes stay locked on Elena’s, and she’s staring with such intensity I swear a third shudder of ecstasy hits me.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, which seems to be about all the English language I can muster right now as I gently pull my hips back to withdraw from her mouth. Her hand comes up, delicately wipes at her lips and chin, and then she sits back on her haunches to smile in triumph.

  She looks magnificent. Lips swollen and red, her breast still hanging out of her dress, and her eyes sparkling because that turned her on as much as it did me.

  Quite sure it’s not going to take much to coax another hard-on for me to fuck her.

  Elena lifts a hand, reaches out, and touches a fingertip to my scar again. I freeze, not suspecting such a bold move now the haze of passion has dimmed a bit. Her eyes go there, and she once again traces the length of it as my pants are now pooled around my knees.

  “What happened?” she asks as her gaze rises to meet mine.

  “Car accident,” I mutter, reaching down to pull my pants up.

  “Don’t,” she murmurs, her hands moving to stop me. “You’re beautiful, and I’d like to see more.”

  We engage in a staring contest, me gripping my pants and her hands gently on mine.

  “I mean,” she continues in a cajoling tone. “You’ve seen me naked and well, I want to see you.”

  I swallow past the dryness in my throat, but no words come out. I have no idea what to say because what she’s asking is very intimate.

  It’s not that I haven’t shown my body at The Wicked Horse because I have. I’ve gotten naked in the middle of The Orgy Room, and I had a hedonistic fucking ball.

  But those times before Elena, I didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of me. I didn’t care if my scar turned them on or off, and I most certainly wasn’t looking at their needs. Before Elena, it was all about just getting off.

  It’s different with her. I’ve found feeling in giving in to her. I was lost to the sensation the first time she came, and I realized it was a power that made me feel good.

  She’s aware of my indecision. I can see it on her face, along with a fortitude that scares me just a little.

  With determination in her eyes, she pushes up from her kneeling position and steps into me. Her hand moves from mine, skims lightly upward along my thigh, and goes right back to my spent cock. It shouldn’t have any life in it, but the minute her fingers close around it, it pulses from her touch.

  Her head tips back, and she licks her lower lip. “Let’s get naked, Benjamin, and explore each other’s bodies. I promise you can do anything to mine you want.”

  My eyes flare, and she nods with a mischievous grin.

  “Anything,” she repeats. “It’s yours.”

  Her fingers move to the buttons on my shirt, and she starts to undo them. The entire time, I don’t take my eyes from hers. There’s a strength in there I latch on to. For the moment, I’m going to give Elena exactly what she wants. I’ll get naked with her, then I’ll take what she’s offering.

  And it’s been a long damn time since I’ve looked forward to something so much.

  CHAPTER 10

  Elena

  My phone alarm goes off, and I shoot my hand out to turn it off quickly. I rub the sleep from my eyes, turning over in the bed to see if Benjamin is still there.

  I half expected him to be gone but to my surprise, he’s there. In the predawn gloom, I can just make out his naked form. He’s sleeping on his back with one hand thrown carelessly above his head and the other resting on his ribs. He has one leg outstretched, the other bent, and he’s breathing deeply.

  His body is tremendously beautiful even with the grotesque scar on his left thigh.

  He had said it was a car accident, and I hadn’t asked for any details. It was clear to me that he was uncomfortable with it from the moment he tried to pull away from me to the way his eyes clouded over when I asked him what happened.

  But we made it past that. I didn’t care what caused it, and it didn’t change my attraction to him. What mattered was he gave me the same level of intimacy I’d given him. I wanted to see him naked, and he’d given it to me. Let me strip him down to nothing but his bare form. He was magnificent as he stood there for a few moments and let me run my hands all over him. It hadn’t lasted long, though, because the more I touched him, the more excited he became. My clothes soon joined his on the floor, then he had me bent over one of the chairs as he fucked my brains out.

  I stretch, raising my arms high above my head and lengthening my legs until my toes point. I feel quite luxurious despite how well used I am. Benjamin fucked me three times after that blow job. Three amazing, intense times where I let him use me however he wanted. I’m exhausted, yet exhilarated. Despite the lack of sleep, I feel damn good.

  Something changed between Benjamin and me last night. Something seemed to break open within him after that blow job. Now, I know I’ve got some slick oral skills, but it was different with him. The things I did with my mouth were more intimate. Benjamin—being who he is—managed to push me past my own limits. Never have I held a man deeper within me, yet I feel like I could have taken him even farther. There is just no reasoning for it.

  After that… after we got naked… we were both insatiable. Couldn’t get enough of each other. We would fuck, doze off, wake up, then touch, kiss, and fuck again. It almost seems like a dream to be honest.

  And despite the soreness between my legs, the lack of sleep, and the long workday I have ahead of me… I want him again.

  Right now.

  I scoot a little closer, gently resting my palm on his chest, which is moving with his deep breaths. Never have I connected sexually with a person like this. Even with all the kinky stuff I’ve done and the limits I push myself past, I’ve never felt so in tune with another human being.

  I rub my thumb over his breastbone. It’s like every touch is exactly where it’s supposed to be, and he gives me exactly what I need when I need it. Even the pain he sometimes inflicts speaks to a need I didn’t know existed within me.

  I let my hand trail down his chest and onto his stomach. He clearly works out. I can see it in the lines of his form and lean muscles of his body. I’d noticed a small scar over his ribs last night, and I wonder if he got it in the same automobile accident.

  The scarring on his leg is bad. I can’t imagine how painful an injury like that must have been. He’d lost muscle and skin, and it wasn’t easy to look at. But I had.

  Every chance I could.

  And I kept touching it so he could see it is a part of him I accept. That I’m attracted to. That deserves my attention.

  I skim my hand down his stomach to the line of hair that leads to his soft cock, which is impr
essive in its length and girth while at rest. When it’s hard, it’s incredibly beautiful. Long and thick with a strong vein that runs on the underside. It stretches me, but it’s also a perfect fit.

  I have some time before I must leave. My first hair appointment isn’t until ten AM. And as I said… I want Benjamin again.

  Taking him into my hand, I start a light, sensual stroke. Within moments, his flesh responds. Slowly, it thickens and grows longer. I move over closer, go up on an elbow, and run my tongue down the length of it.

  Benjamin shifts, and a low growl bubbles in his chest. I take him into my mouth, giving a gentle laving of my tongue around the head of his cock.

  “What are you doing?” Benjamin asks gruffly, his voice heavy with sleep and growing lust.

  I turn to look at him. “I’m doing you.”

  Benjamin lifts his head from the pillow. He chuckles… an oddly beautiful sound to come from such a quiet, serious man.

  He doesn’t say anything, but then again, he doesn’t need to. His hand skims up the back of my thigh, over my ass, and then his fingers press into me from behind.

  Oh, wow. That feels damn good. I’m instantly wet from his touch. Even though I’m a little sore, the pleasure far outweighs it.

  Benjamin is fully hard within my hand, and I give a few firm strokes. Each time Benjamin takes me, he’s always the one in control. I’ve not had any power. Not even that blow job because when push comes to shove, the way we ended that encounter was him full-on fucking my face as I just hung on for the ride.

  That’s okay. It’s what I want.

  But with this sexy man only half awake and on his back, I can’t resist the opportunity to take what I want.

  I surge up from the mattress, flip my leg over his lap, and straddle his erection. Planting one hand down into the mattress, I take him in my other and maneuver the head of him to my entrance. I bring my gaze up so I can look at Benjamin. He’s staring at me with burning eyes. His hands move to my hips, and he hisses through his teeth as I lower onto his shaft.

  So much beauty in the way I ride him. His face morphs, gentles, and then he lays his head on the pillow with his eyes closed. His hands hold tight to my hips, but he lets me set the pace. I work myself up and down, paying attention to every nuance flickering over his expression.

  Benjamin drops a single hand, then presses his thumb against my clit. Pleasure shoots through me from the added sensation. Overstuffed with his beautiful cock and the pad of his thumb on my clit, I can’t hold off the inevitable rush of pleasure I seek. I start bouncing hard, not able to contain the little mewling sounds coming out of me. Benjamin grunts and groans from the strain of pulling back his own orgasm. He bites straight teeth down into his lower lip, and his face looks gorgeously pained with the need to seek release.

  I slam myself onto his cock, and with just a little bit of a harder push on to my clit with his thumb, I’m sent over the edge and screaming out my release. It triggers Benjamin’s, and he grips me tight to hold me down while his hips surge upward in an explosive orgasm.

  I collapse onto his chest, trying to catch my breath. Even though I can still feel the ripples of pleasure coursing through me, I already want him again.

  That makes him dangerous to me. Like an addictive drug.

  And yet, I’m not afraid.

  Benjamin’s fingers skim my forehead, moving hair out of my face. I crane my neck to look up at him, and he lifts his head from the pillow so our eyes can meet.

  “Stay with me,” he says softly.

  “Stay with you?”

  “All day. All night. Right here in this room. We’ll fuck like animals, order room service, and then fuck some more.”

  Groaning, I let my head drop onto his chest. I wrap my arms tightly to his side, and it’s not lost on me that he does not return the embrace. I take this only to mean Benjamin might not be much of a cuddler, but it isn’t important to me. This is about sex and nothing else.

  I lift my head, regret filling me. “I wish I could. But I have a full day of hair appointments.”

  He gives me a disappointed smile, but he nods in understanding. “Of course.”

  My return smile is lopsided. “If it helps… I would rather be here with you.”

  One corner of his mouth tips up. “It helps. Are you up for The Wicked Horse tonight?”

  Now that has my attention. It would be a fantastic way to end the evening. “What did you have in mind?”

  Giving me an evil smile, he shakes his head. “You’ll find out when I want you to find out.”

  Damn, that is sexy. And now I really want him again.

  But sadly, I have to get out of here. Long drive back to Henderson to shower, have breakfast, and then work. With a sigh, I press my lips to the base of Benjamin’s neck, then pull off him before I can be tempted to start something else again.

  CHAPTER 11

  Benjamin

  It’s Thursday night. After four nights of consecutive trysts at The Wicked Horse, Elena is canceling this evening.

  We’ve been together at the club every night since we stayed together at the hotel. It was a step I didn’t ever envision taking with a woman. Sleeping all night together in the same bed is incredibly personal and intimate, and I probably would have thought twice about it that night except sleeping wasn’t really on our minds. We kept fucking over and over again, not able to satiate ourselves.

  It’s hard on Elena to make it to The Wicked Horse every night. She has over a thirty-minute drive each way, plus she works eight-to-ten-hour days.

  It’s why I hadn’t begrudged the text message she had sent me while I was meeting with a patient a little bit ago. We both decided to do away with the fantasy app for our communications. Sending text messages was just easier.

  Admittedly, I was a little hesitant when she asked for my phone number so we could switch to text. I was fearful she might want to call me all the time, or she might read something into the fact we’ve exchanged phone numbers. But that didn’t happen. The only thing she has done consistently since we exchanged our numbers is communicate with me about arranging meetings.

  Exchanging numbers was not the only thing that changed. In the last four nights where we’ve met up at The Wicked Horse, we’ve started out in the Social Room to have a few drinks. It’s not like we need them to unwind and relax. But that first night we met there after the hotel, I had a craving for a good scotch. I’d suggested a drink, and one led into two.

  It was easygoing. Elena kept me entertained with stories about her clients—never divulging their names—as well as her family. She’s the youngest of six and comes from a boisterous, obnoxiously close-knit unit. One night, as she sipped at a glass of wine, she warned me that her mother is Latina and her father was a combination of Greek and Dutch, and it made for weird emotions sometimes. She said she could go from weepy to pissed off in a nanosecond.

  “It’s a good thing we really click,” she’d added. “I don’t think you have to worry about pissing me off.”

  And she is correct.

  We really do click. That’s been apparent in the fact we continue to meet up for drinks each evening before we move deeper into the club to take our pleasure. The conversation has been easy and enjoyable.

  I haven’t had easy conversation in months and months. Not since before the accident. Why it’s happening with this woman is beyond me. There is no doubt Elena and I share an incredibly special sexual connection. She has turned out to be the perfect woman for me in that respect. But the fact we can carry on conversation without making me feel trapped or guilty for doing so must say something.

  I’m just not sure what—or if I want to give any credence that the phenomenon is because of her.

  But tonight, she’s begged off because she’s exhausted. I don’t question this in the slightest. She even admitted to me it was the drive that was weighing down on her tonight as she almost fell asleep on the road home last night. In her text, she said, I just need to catch up on my sleep t
onight. I’ll be good to go tomorrow.

  I’m finished with my patients for the day. I have notes to dictate, and I need to review my records in the Harlan case since my ethics hearing is next week.

  What I should do is text Elena to let her know it is all right and I’m eager to see her tomorrow night.

  It is completely disconcerting to me that I instead pull up her number and initiate a phone call.

  Elena answers on the second ring. “Well, this is a surprise.”

  Yes, indeed. It is.

  “I just wanted to let you know I totally understand why you’re canceling tonight. I hope you’re able to catch up on your sleep, so we can hook up tomorrow.”

  She gives a sigh of relief that comes through loud and clear over the line. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “I mean,” I drawl in a teasing tone. “It’s not like I arranged for two other guys to be with us tonight at The Wicked Horse. Three guys, and one of you. That could have been explosive.”

  Elena is silent for a moment before she asks in an inquisitive tone, “Did you really?”

  “No,” I drawl, then hesitantly ask, “But do you want me to?”

  She and I have never once discussed exploring our sexual fantasies with another person. It happens all the time in the club. Hell, I’ve partaken in group sex there before. If I were a betting man, I would say Elena has before too.

  “Actually,” she rushes to say. “No. It’s not really of interest to me.”

  The amount of relief that floods through me makes it clear why I never brought this up before. Because, apparently, there is no way in fucking hell I’m ever going to share her. It goes against everything in my nature to let another man touch her.

  “You could come here… to my place?” she suggests.

  “Your place?”

  “Yeah… I mean, I don’t have sex machines for us to play with, but I’ve got stuff. And I think we’ve proven we do vanilla just fine.”