Dear Readers,
Thank you for following us here at Love, Lust, and Laptops this year. With Halloween drawing near, we thought it would be fun to celebrate everything sexy about the odd, the paranormal, and the fated-to-be. We put together a collection of ten stories which will run over the course of the next two weeks here on the blog.
Here’s the first of our Love Card Tales.
The Jack of Hearts by Jianne Carlo
Ricco stared out the open window and willed Kata to walk through the gate.
He wouldn’t lose his mate twice.
Seth had won Kata once, but he was long dead and buried, and all bets and rules were off.
The gas lamp hanging from an iron post just inside the award-winning front garden of Dacre House highlighted the raven-blue woven into the fibers on the black hood and long cloak Kata wore. The cape swirled around her ankles, and the ancient iron creaked in a drawn out protest when she shoved the gate open.
He tracked her steps and inhaled the musk of her desire mingled with the night-blooming jasmine. He hadn’t been certain she’d come after their confrontation earlier today.
Kata climbed the stairs, her feet dragging as if she was about to put her neck on the guillotine block.
Ricco’s mouth watered. His canines tingled and his gums ached with the need to claim.
The door opened and the doorman said, “Card.”
Her graceful fingers reached under the cloak, and she opened her hand to display half of a torn tarot card. The half that matched his, the Jack of Hearts.
“Third floor. Last door on the left. Stairs are straight ahead.” The attendant hooked a thumb over his shoulder.
“I don’t understand.”
The man growled, “Those were my orders for anyone with that card. You in or out?”
For long moments Kata remained quiet.
Scenting fear tangled with her mounting excitement, Ricco waited, his fists clenched. If necessary, he’d reveal his other half of the invitation―and his identity―and drag her up to the prepared attic room.
Her face reflected indecision for a brief moment, but then she squared her shoulders and let the card drop into the servant’s outstretched hand.
Ricco sighed his relief, and his knitted neck muscles relaxed.
Kata sidled past the doorman.
Ricco splayed his fingers wide and rotated both wrists. He withdrew into a shadowed corner and, being capable of both place and form shifting, transported to the lair he’d prepared earlier. Dacre House required signed contracts from all participants before renting out a room for BDSM activities and said contract had shed a glaring spotlight on Kata’s secret fantasies.
He’d worked off most of his fury in the ring after overhearing Kata’s conversation with her BFF, Shauna, earlier.
It had taken all his willpower to leave Kata alone after Seth died. He’d signed up for another tour in Afghanistan to avoid the daily temptation of being around her. If only he had followed his instincts and teleported back often to keep an eye on her. But, no, he curled his lips. He had to be fucking honorable and give her space.
Tough titties. No more space.
Not once had he imagined Kata fantasized about bondage and submission. For crap’s sake, her husband, his stepbrother, Seth had been the ultimate metrosexual guy. Ricco knew Seth had experimented with both sexes and could’ve gone either way, but he’d fallen in love with Kata, and, being the quintessential good guy, done the right thing by marrying her.
Ricco hadn’t believed his hearing when he inadvertently eavesdropped on Kata and Shauna’s conversation. Kata wanted to experience a BDSM fantasy with a stranger, someone she’d never meet again, and Shauna had arranged the whole fricking thing with the owner of Dacre House.
The sound of stiletto heels clicking on polished wood reached his ears. He scanned the room one last time. The blue and yellow flames flickering from two multi-tiered candelabras on either side of the room cast deep shadows into the corners, but shed an eerie light over the king-size bed’s scarlet satin sheets. The sex toys he’d chosen were laid out on the right side and discretely covered by a couple of black silk scarves.
Ricco positioned himself right in front of the door.
The candles’ flames flitted right and then left when the door eased open.
He heard her sharp inhale, could almost see her compressed lips, and picked up the rat-a-tat-tat of her escalating heartbeat before she shoved the heavy slab of wood open.
She gasped, stumbled, and would have fallen if he hadn’t clamped his hands on her shoulders. Jesus Murphy, her unique fragrance had always done a number on him, but knowing he would make her his that night magnified the affect a zillion fold. He reeled and breathed more shallowly, so intoxicated by the whiff of her pussy’s sudden rush of cream that his nuts did a swift clench and jerk.
Kata tried to draw back, but he firmed his hold on her.
“I. Shauna—”
“I didn’t give you permission to speak.” He spoke in her native Venezuelan dialect and roughened his normal tone. Kata had no idea he was fluent in ten languages. Ricco figured that with his disguised voice, the Spanish, the Zorro mask, plus the fact she had never seen him minus his long hair and full beard, he had a couple of hours before her sharp mind picked up any connection. A hundred and twenty minutes to show her she was a true sub.
“I’m sorry.”
He set two fingers to her lips. “You’ve earned two penalties, doll. Care to try for three?”
Milk chocolate eyes, big and wide, peeked up at him; the blue harem veil and head covering she wore hid the rest of her face.
His dick throbbed.
Her head shake was almost imperceptible. She opened her mouth and then sucked in her lips. A smart-ass at the best of times, Ricco knew she’d just bitten back a stinging retort and had to repress a proud, that’s-my-woman grin. He schooled his features into his interrogator’s expressionless mien.
“Strip. Leave the shoes, veil, and headdress on.”
“Here?”
“Three penalties.” He wanted her off balance.
“But, anyone could—”
“Four.”
Her nostrils flared, she chewed on her lips, squeezed her eyes shut, and blew out an audible sigh before giving him a tiny nod. Throat working, she bent her head and opened the buttons of the blousy midriff top edged with gold braiding.
Ricco pushed the door closed. He jammed his palms on the carved mahogany, bracketing her head, and placed his bare feet outside her harem slippers, effectively hemming her in on all sides.
When she shrugged off the provocative I-Dream-of-Jeannie top, the first sight of her incredible breasts had him struggling for control.
Deliberately, Ricco pivoted and slowly walked to the antique sideboard on the other side of the room. Forcing the image of her succulent chocolate nipples, all erect and pointy, from his head, he concentrated on setting things in motion.
“This is an opportune time to go over the rules. First, yours. Not permitted—kissing, enemas, or fisting. No nipple clamps, clit clamps, or whips. You don’t want to see my face, and I am not allowed to see yours. Have I covered everything? You may answer freely, but keep your reply succinct.”
“No names. No exchange of information,” she murmured.
“Agreed. Think carefully now, doll. Is there anything else?” Ricco poured himself a shot of Dacre House’s famous hand-brewed bourbon. He downed the liquor quickly and glanced in the mirror on the wall in front of him.
Christ almighty, she had a full thatch of inky curls.
Most of the women he’d been with on R&R in Indonesia had had waxed pubes. It’d been years since he’d seen a virgin pussy. No wonder he’d been able to sniff her arousal so clearly; those soft curls trapped her musk. He licked his lips.
His dick strained at his jeans, and the crown scraped the coarse material painfully. Going commando wasn’t helping him to dampen his soaring libido. Fuck, he wanted in her, wanted to hammer her pussy, to suckle those dark nipples, and watch her when she screamed her orgasm.
She shimmied the billowy pants down silky thighs the color of café au lait, and he glimpsed the thong-shaped narrow white strip of skin that hadn’t seen the sun anytime in recent months.
He set the shot glass down and gripped the rounded edge of the sideboard so hard a splinter worked into his thumb. Concentrating on pinching the sliver out, Ricco called on his SEAL discipline and regularized his breathing. Years of constant training came to his rescue. Mind cleared and focused, discipline back in play, he turned around, propped one bare foot on top of the other, and leaned a hip against the carved wood.
Dawdling as he considered the best way to proceed, he ambled to her side and caught the tip of her chin. The diaphanous veil tickled his forearm. “Another penalty, doll. You answer when asked, promptly.”
“I didn’t know if I had permission to speak twice. I shook my head.”
She grew more aroused with each word uttered. The aroma of her desire was now pungent and heady.
“Answer.”
“No, there’s nothing else.”
“Since I know this is your first time, I’ll give you some leeway. Walk over to the bed, turn to face me, and present yourself. I want a clear view of your clit. Do whatever is necessary.”
Her pupils dilated, and he heard her breathing hitch. Her nostrils quivered. She swallowed once, twice, then firmed her chin and gave him a tiny nod.
A flood of her pussy’s spice wafted to him.
He tensed every muscle in his groin to no avail. His cock wanted in her. Now.
She was afraid, aroused, and determined, his adorable Kata.
Ricco couldn’t wait to take her where she secretly wanted to go, to take care of his mate’s needs. He’d studied the multiple-choice part of the standard Dacre House BDSM contract for newbies that Kata had filled out. There had only been a couple of items on the list that had been ticked off as allowed: dildos and vibrators.
The squares for anal plugs and paddles had no X’s penned in next to them. But the form had been sweat-smudged in those spots, as if she’d held her hand over each item several times before deciding not to check either yes or no. A normal human wouldn’t have picked up such a detail, but his wolf had noticed right away.
She moved like a sex goddess, full hips swaying and ass cheeks bunching with each tentative stride. She spun about, her firm breasts rose and fell, and she set her stiletto-clad feet wide apart. Another deep breath, she thrust her hips forward, stared at a spot above his shoulder, and slowly parted the folds of her sex.
Saliva coated his tongue, and he could do nothing but gawk. His tongue tingled and coarsened. Before the clock struck midnight, he’d stamp himself over every inch of her sweet pussy.
“Finger yourself.”
Ricco stifled a wince when his leaking dick scratched the jean’s zipper. He sauntered to her, unable to concentrate on anything but her ruby-lacquered, long fingernail grazing the mouth-watering, swollen flesh cloaking her clit.
“Not the hood, doll. Your clit.” He motioned for her to widen her stance.
Pleased by her immediate obedience, he plucked her long nipples.
She moaned and then bit her lips.
“For the record, you can moan all you want. Scream even. This is a soundproofed room.”
He tugged the now swollen buds.
She swayed closer to him, and her eyelids fell to half-mast.
“Hmmm. I believe it’s time for your first penalty. From now on, I want to hear ‘yes, sir’ when I tell you to do anything.” Her head fell back when he rolled her dark caramel nipples between his fingers.
He pinched the engorged peaks.
A shudder wracked her slight frame, she arched, and her eyes glazed.
“Did I tell you to stop fingering your clit?”
She flinched. “No, sir.”
But the sight of her scarlet nails rubbing her clit inflamed him way too much. Trapping her finger, Ricco cupped her pussy and snapped, “You come only on my command.”
“Please,” she whispered.
The fervent plea stabbed a hole in the wall of his control. His stones were full-to-bursting. Christ, he’d never last the two hours she’d specified at this rate.
“On my command, woman,” he barked, too annoyed with himself to keep the irritation out of his voice. Fuck the deliberate, orchestrated claiming strategy he’d so carefully plotted.
He scooped her into his arms, marched over to the bed, sat on the mattress, and bent her over his thighs. “Bottom up in the air. Grab my ankle.”
Giving her no time to think, he snatched the paddle from the bed and swung hard enough to sting and shock her, but not enough to cause tears or pain.
Her nails scraped his skin. She yelped on the second blow, but pushed up onto her toes, and presented her pinkened butt cheeks for the next stroke.
Ricco toyed with her folds and grinned when she wriggled in an attempt to tease him into probing her puckered hole. He sucked his finger and trailed the moistened tip along the crease of her rump, lingering when she whimpered, and then rimmed the wrinkled, rosy little bud before squeezing her ass cheeks lightly.
“More,” she muttered on a low groan, indecipherable to human ears, but not to his.
He’d fricking give her more.
Ricco flipped her over and helped her to sit. Her distended nipples were irresistible, and he didn’t even try to dredge up any semblance of willpower. He cupped the luscious mounds, thumbed the mouth-watering peaks, and lowered to suck her whole areola into his mouth. He kneaded her other breast and shifted his hips from side-to-side, hoping to ease the vice grip of his now skintight jeans.
“Oh.” She snatched at his cotton T-shirt and ground her bottom over his cock.
Crap. He was ready to shoot his wad and knew from her galloping pulse and harsh, jerky rasps of breath that she was on the verge too.
Ricco lifted her so she straddled his thighs, bit each nipple hard enough to bring her back from the brink, and then captured both of her wrists. He reached back, grabbed two of the black silk scarves from the pillows, and bound her hands together.
He licked her lips.
She stiffened and drew back. “No kissing.”
Ricco quirked a brow. “Three more penalties.”
“You broke the rules,” she retorted, trying to cross her arms, and glaring at him when she couldn’t.
He had her bent over his knees again in less than a heartbeat. He flexed his fingers and gave her three, hard smacks. “Did I kiss you?”
Silence.
Three more whacks.
“No,” she squealed. “No. I’m sorry.”
“No, who?” He walloped her again.
“No, sir,” she muttered. “No, sir.”
Ricco set her stomach down on the bed. Jesus. She had the most beautiful ass in the world. He fondled her swollen and reddened cheeks, and then ran his tongue along the enticing seam, working his way slowly down to her creamy labia. He sipped a delicious fold and groaned. She tasted better than he’d imagined, and where Kata was concerned, Ricco’s fucking-fantasies had soared beyond even his most depraved dreams.
Unable to resist, he burrowed his nose against her pussy and dipped inside for a taste. Her vaginal walls clenched around his tongue.
The fiery bolt that preceded his sprint to climax flashed across his groin. He jerked away, cupped her bottom, and surged to his feet.
Needing to regain a single thread of control, Ricco placed Kata in the middle of the bed. He had to grit his teeth and force himself to let her go.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to recall his claiming strategy, but caught the smell of her pussy on his finger and automatically sucked on the tip. An evil grin crossed his mouth.
Yeah, right.
Lick her to the brink, over and over.
Playing for time and the return of a few more functioning brain cells, he gathered his tools. When he slipped the blindfold over her eyes, she moaned.
The sensual sound shot a burst of painful lust through his groin.
He tied her hands to one of the metal panels in the bedhead.
Jesus, his tongue grew thicker and heavier in his mouth with every sexy little whimper she mewled. He nudged her thighs apart and studied her features when he widened the spread. The moment her breathing stuttered, Ricco knew he’d reached the point where she’d be ready to explode with every slight caress.
He scrambled off the bed and salivated.
“Time for your second penalty. I’ll give you a choice, ball gag or anal plug?”
*
Kata was on fire. Her clit and nipples prickled and throbbed with delicious, agonizing pain-pleasure. The full impact of Ricco’s question didn’t penetrate her lust-depraved gray matter for an eternal moment.
How had he guessed those were two of her fears and secret desires?
When she and Shauna had plotted this hook-up with Ricco here at Dacre House on Halloween night, neither had realized Kata would have to sign a contract. She had been so careful filling out the questionnaire and had definitely not checked those items.
She licked her dry lips. “Please sir, no ball gags.”
The mattress dipped, and she turned her head. Senses heightened by the blindfold, she listened to the even cadence of his breathing, and the familiar but unique patchouli aftershave only Ricco ever wore tickled her nose.
A shiver rushed from her tingling scalp to her flexing and curling toes when the rough surface of his finger outlined her mouth. His whiskey-scented breath warmed her cheek.
“Have you ever been gagged, doll?”
“No, sir.” Sir. That a single word could make her pussy quiver amazed Kata.
“Keep your mouth open.”
No. For a single heartbeat, Kata almost begged him not to do it. But she caught herself in time and strangled the words before they slipped out. Bracing herself for the horrific intrusion, she widened her lips.
He framed her head, held her still, and straddled her face. She got a whiff of his musk a second before the satiny smoothness of his cock’s head slowly slipped into her mouth.
“Cock. Gag,” he muttered.
Cripes, he was enormous. Her lips stung as he worked more of his huge erection into her mouth. His precum zinged her taste buds.
“That’s it, doll. We’ll take it slow.” His smoky crooning and the careful way he slid his dick inside in increments allowed her to accept more and more of him without choking.
He kneaded the hollows of her cheeks. “Relax. You can take me.”
She arched her neck and sucked deep and hard.
“Jesus.” He growled and began thrusting. His grip on her tightened, and his cock’s shallow plunges deepened. Not prepared for the rapid fucking of her mouth, her throat muscles tightened and nausea threatened.
She grabbed at the headboard and willed the tension away. He spurted into her mouth. Hot streams of salt-spice washed over her tongue and gums. His orgasm was more exciting and arousing than the many hours spent trying to get off with the stupid neon-purple vibrator she’d purchased after Seth died.
Her clit pulsed.
Her nipples ached.
She squirmed. Her still-tingling bottom cheeks slid over the satin sheets. The contrast between her burning flesh and the cool smoothness of the material was more delicious than she could’ve ever imagined.
Repressing a protest when he suddenly withdrew his cock from her mouth, she smiled and stretched in a silent preen. She’d brought him off in mere minutes. Ricco the ex-SEAL, aka the Jack of Hearts, the nickname he’d earned because he regularly fucked for hours without climaxing. The warrior who’d become famous for fucking women into a fainting orgasm, according to Seth anyway.
She flinched when he rubbed her forehead.
“Tell me why you wanted me to fuck your mouth, sub.”
Kata hesitated, searching for a way to tell him the truth without revealing she knew his identity. “It’s been a recurring fantasy. Sir.”
“Hmm. Not the whole truth, but part. I’ll let that go for now.” His leg brushed her temple when he clambered to one side. The mattress dipped when he got off the bed.
How much time did they have left? Why had she insisted on only two hours? Because she couldn’t risk him knowing she knew who he was. Because after tonight, she would move to the other side of the ocean, literally. Because being in love with Seth’s brother was a nightmare highway that led to nowhere but relentless and eternal heartbreak.
The tantric strumming of the first few stanzas of Bolero echoed around the room, masking the slight slapping of his bare feet on the marble floor. Had he turned on the music deliberately so she couldn’t guess where or when or how he would strike?
She tensed when a warm trickle slid down her belly. A moment later another tickling yet soothing stream coursed over one thigh, dripped in tantalizing slowness down her pussy lips, and then coated the top of her other leg.
He massaged the oil into her flesh, spreading the slick liquid all over her hips and thighs. The coarse hairs on his legs brushed her knees and she guessed him to be on his haunches.
Without any warning, he thrust two fingers into her. Digging her heels into the satin, she sucked in her belly against the sudden invasion.
“You have my permission to come, doll. As often as you want until I say stop.” He pinched her clit.
Intense, excruciating pain-pleasure thundered through her.
He plunged his fingers into her clenching pussy in a harsh, ruthless rhythm. She came and came. Wave after wave of ecstasy tore over her.
She worked her hips to the cadence of his plunging fingers. She tensed when his finger probed her rear, but the oil-slickened hole stretched to accommodate his thick digit, and the first pinch of penetration was replaced by a burst of thrilling excitement.
Within mere moments, she was grinding into his palm and arching to deepen his incredible double-edged invasion. She gasped when he dragged his tongue over her clit, and all the while his fingers worked her pussy and her rear.
All reason fractured when he grazed her clit and then nipped, hard. She shattered. The climax so powerful and intense Kata hardly noticed when he drove something cold and hard into her back hole. She stiffened and tensed. The astounding full-to-bursting shock of her secret fantasy was too real and uncomfortable for pleasure.
He curled around her and nuzzled her cheek. “Take a deep breath. That’s it. Now hold it at the top of your exhale. Let it out on my count, slowly. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.”
Instinctively she complied, and gradually the initial sting of the invasion into virgin territory eased.
He tongued her ear.
A delicious shiver slithered from her pinky toes to the roots of her hair.
“When I fuck you, sub, you’ll feel me in your throat. This is as close to your threesome fantasy as you’re ever going to get. But it’s only going to happen if you give the right answers to every question I ask. Do you feel stretched to bursting? Permission to answer freely.”
Kata swallowed around the unease mushrooming up her throat. She nodded.
“Out loud.”
“Yes, sir. I feel stretched to bursting.”
He tsked and flicked her lobe. “I said freely, not angrily. It seems to me that you’re angling for another penalty.”
She wanted to punish him. Punch him in the gut and tell him to stop, to not make her admit her secrets out loud. But she knew better and compressed her lips.
“When did you start fantasizing about plugs?”
When Shauna had suggested Kata might finally climax if she had other stimulation. But Kata couldn’t tell Ricco that. She hunted for a plausible explanation. “I…sex has never worked right for me.”
His sudden tension sank heavily over her.
Shit, she’d screwed up somehow.
“Spit. It. Out.”
Cringing at his severe, furious, one-word commands, Kata blurted, “I can’t even make myself come with a fricking vibrator. It just hurts. If you must know, I’m frigid.”
Kata struggled against her restraints. Thank God for the blindfold. At least she couldn’t see his pity or disgust, and mercifully, he couldn’t see her shame.
“For crap’s sake.” He untied her arms from the bedhead’s panels, removed the scarves, massaged her wrists, and gathered her tightly against him. “You just came like the fricking energizer bunny on steroids. The last fucking thing you are, doll, is frigid.”
She buried her nose in his chest hair and wallowed in the heat of his embrace. “I’ve never…ever.”
How she loved the way Ricco cuddled her. The comfort he offered so freely, the way he noticed every nuance about her, and always had.
Damn it. What was she doing? This wasn’t supposed to happen. She had to take things back to the fantasy. “I’m sorry, sir. For speaking without permission.”
His hold on her tightened.
For a crazy moment, Kata swore she heard him growl. “It’s like that, is it?”
Then he rolled away from her, parked her belly down across his thighs, and spanked her rapidly five times. Each blow whacked whatever he’d put inside her deeper. The initial discomfort had vanished, and much to her surprise, been replaced by an incredibly provocative fullness and an internal prickling connected directly to her clit.
“Now for your other penalties.”
For the first time, Kata tensed, not with anticipation but fear.
“We have an hour left of the two you allotted.”
Goose bumps rose on her forearms and shoulders.
“You’re cold.” He wound a velvety throw under her back and tucked the material over the bridge of her shoulder and down her arms.
“Better? Yes or no.”
“Yes. Sir.”
He tongued her jaw and licked his way down to her pussy. She shuddered when he nuzzled her pubic hair. “Are these virgin pubes? You have my permission to answer all my questions without the sir.”
Why was he doing this? She wanted to call him sir. To keep this night separate from reality. To ensure that in her dreams he was always sir and not Ricco.
“You do not have my permission to daydream, sub.” He nipped her hip.
Stung by both his sudden switch to an agreeable demeanor and by the humor lacing his voice, she snapped, “I’ve never shaved. I’m prone to ingrown hairs.”
“Ouch. TMI.” He played with her curls. “So soft and pretty. And beguiling. The minute I saw these, I wanted to lick every single hair.”
“Oh,” she yelped when he tugged a clump.
“Why did you specify no rubbers?”
He dragged his tongue across her clit. Or at least she thought it was his tongue, but it felt coarse, like a tongue with nubs. Oh. My. God. She grabbed for his head and twined her fingers into his hair.
“Uh-uh.” He jerked out of her grasp. “Hands above your head or I’ll tie you up again.”
Anything to keep him licking her clit. She raised her arms over her head and wriggled her hips in an attempt to get her throbbing center closer to that incredible mouth and tongue.
“Why no condoms?”
Hail Mary. There is a God. Nothing should ever feel so good. Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. She grabbed at the sheets, but the material kept slipping loose of her fervent clutching.
Heavy arms clamped around her hips and over her belly, and effectively halted her frantic squirming. His slow licking stopped on a dime.
“Noooo. Please.”
“Why. No. Rubber.”
“Because I know you’re scrupulous about your fucking. Damn it Ricco, do it again.”
It was only when he yanked off the blindfold, and she stared into his incredible hazel eyes that Kata realized what she’d said.
“You knew it was me all along?” He grasped her chin. “Don’t think for a nanosecond about lying to me or avoiding telling me the whole truth.”
Heat seared her throat and face. “Shauna and I set the whole thing up. Rick told her you were looking for a sub. She knew I had a thing for you…”
“You’re right about one thing, Kata.”
She so loved his wicked grin. No one, not even the most badass tinsel town hunk had a smile that could top Ricco’s. What had he said? “I’m right about something?”
“Yeah. There is a God. I’m done fucking around. I need in you so bad I’m going to blow like Old Faithful.”
“Oh, boy. Me too. Please? I know I’m not supposed to beg.” She didn’t get another word out because he had hauled her under him. He kneed her thighs wide, grabbed her butt cheeks, lifted her high, and barked, “Wrap your legs around me, Kata. Lean back, doll, and brace yourself.”
The force of his cock driving into her shoved her body up the mattress and into the downy pillows stacked against the headboard.
He froze. Bowed his head. “Wolf. Can’t.”
His head whipped up, and he bared long canines. Raised a hand and did a piano playing movement with his fingers. Fingers with long curled nails that ended in a black point. Her clit pulsed on overdrive.
“Losing. It. Come.”
She couldn’t drag her gaze from his beautiful claw as it slowly descended and then plucked her clit. Kata saw the galaxy unfurling. Red hot spots danced before her eyes. White-hot streaks blossomed into a spate of fireworks that dazzled brilliant color.
His cock rammed her super-sensitized pussy folds. His testicles slapped the plug embedded in her back hole.
She did feel him in her throat.
He stretched her full-to-bursting.
One orgasm exploded into another and another until her whole being centered on her contracting pussy and his magnificent, pounding cock.
He howled.
The victorious roar resonated straight to her clit.
He sank his glorious canines into the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder. She arched to one side, locked her ankles around his waist, gripped his biceps, and clung while he pistoned into her.
The last thing she remembered was surrendering to the rapture.
*
“Wake up, mate.” Ricco brushed away her silky curls and laved his claiming mark. The tiny oval glimmered in the flickering candle light.
She shook her head and mumbled, “No. Delicious dream.”
“Not a dream.” He rolled his pelvis and did a grind-and-bump circle on her pussy folds. He swept a finger over first one thick fringe of onyx lashes and then the other.
She opened one eye, and then both her lids flew open.
He grinned when she peeped down at the space between their joined bodies and then glanced up at him, her eyes wider than any startled doe’s.
“This time, Kata, we’re going to take our time, and I’m going to kiss you to orgasm.”
“This is the best fantasy in the world. The universe. The galaxy.”
“It’s better, mate. It’s real.” He caught a tempting nipple between his teeth.
She rested her fingertips on his collarbone. “It feels real. You smell real. You even sound real. Though not as growly.”
Ricco leaned on an elbow, grabbed her wrists, and set her palms to his chest. He cupped the hand over his heart. “Feel that pounding. Only you can do that. Only you have the power to stop it. I’m a wolf, Kata, and you’re my mate. I’ll never love anyone else but you.”
“I know. About the wolf part. Seth let it out once when he was all drugged up at the end.” She averted her gaze. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be one night. We can’t be together, Ricco. I was married to your brother.”
“Step. Brother. And it doesn’t make any difference. You’re my mate, and I love you. Look me in the eye, and tell me you don’t feel the same way about me.” When she tried to tug away from him, he gave her a little shake.
“You don’t know how hard I’ve tried not to love you.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, and he licked the dampness dry. “It’s guilt, isn’t it? It ate me up too. That’s why I stayed away. Why I only came back for one day at Christmas time.”
“I never loved Seth the way I should have.”
“You did love him though, Kata. I know you did. You stayed with him to the end. Mom said you were amazing. She didn’t have to bear the burden of the day-to-day caring for a man dying of cancer.” He knuckled her cheek.
“I feel so guilty and dirty. I had sex with my dead husband’s brother.” She sniffed.
“Step. Brother. Look at me, Kata. We will be married. We are mates, and you will not condemn the both of us to a loveless, miserable existence. I had resigned myself to that kind of life when Seth was alive. But he’s dead and gone, and no one would want our happiness more than Seth.” Ricco tipped her head back and swore a bucket load when he glimpsed her tears. “Tell me that’s not the fricking truth.”
She swiped at her eyes. “The rational part of me knows that. But then I think of what people will say—”
“Fuck other people. And don’t even go there about Mom and Chance. I think Mom guessed how I felt about you a long time ago, and that’s why she didn’t tear up a storm about my being absent for your wedding and every family holiday meal afterwards except for Christmas.”
She blinked and met his stare. “You know, she’s said a few things that made me wonder…”
“Kata?” He could no longer ignore his aching nuts.
“Ricco?”
He flexed his dick.
“Think we can agree to work out the details of our marriage later? I’ve been burning up with mate need for three hundred ninety-five days, two hours, and seven minutes, minus the last forty-five.”
“Married?” She tensed, and her hot pussy snatched at his dick.
“Oh yeah. Ring, church, and huge party. Deal?”
She blushed all over and said, “Does this mean I’m the sub you were looking for?”
“From the moment I laid eyes on you, I hung up my Jack of Hearts rep.”
Have a freaking fructose happy Monday & don’t forget to drop in every day until October 26th to enjoy a new free read!
Cheers,
Jianne
Our “Mr. Roarke” is a talk, dark, handsome, and mysterious New Orleans hotelier named Henri Beaudelaire. Every so often, he opens the doors of The Hotel Beaudelaire for an invitation-only event called The Den of Sin. Guests are told to leave their inhibitions at the door, and if they’re lucky, they’ll go home with the loves of their lives (or at least with smiles on their faces).
Love, Lust, and Laptops 