His Final Seduction Page 6

  Sydney rubbed the side of her knee along his inner thigh until it pressed firmly against his balls and sent a jolt of arousal into his cock.

  “The longer you wait,” she threatened, “the worse it’s gonna be for you.”

  “Is that a promise?” he murmured with a mouth full of nipple.

  “I’ve always been a firm believer in the old adage ‘’Tis better to give than to receive’.”

  In a move he never saw coming, Sydney kicked her leg, threw her insignificant weight and rolled him beneath her, pinning his hands above his head. A seductive smile curled her lips, and her soft breasts smashed against his chest. But it was her eyes that captivated him.

  The smoldering flecks behind her irises hadn’t been there when he’d first visited her in her room, and they weren’t there when they’d lain down to dinner. Whatever had happened, he’d done that to her, freed her of her reservations, her harsh restrictions, and for a fleeting moment, he questioned whether that was such a good thing.

  Sydney was a sexual bombshell.

  The sensation her expression released inside him was strong, powerful, and it scared the shit out of him. It almost felt like…affection.

  “Besides, Damien, I’ve been dying to get my hands on your body since the moment you shocked my hormones into an erotic frenzy.”

  She made a move to kiss him, but he turned his head at the last second.

  That had been close. Too close. Cursed with an incubus’s power, he avoided mouth-to-mouth contact because that was how he took energy.

  Trying to cover his move, he captured the lobe of her ear between his teeth. “And just what are you planning on doing to my body now that you have it all to yourself?”

  “Oh, you’ll see.”

  She traced her tongue along his jawline, and her body ground her wet heat against his encased erection. Releasing his hands, she slid her palms to his chest and let her fingertips play over his muscles. Her mouth found his flat nipple. She swirled her tongue around the nub then switched to the other.

  A small but sure hand moved down his stomach and cupped his package. His eyes drifted shut. Sydney applied the right amount of pressure, and his balls hardened and drew in toward his body. She certainly knew what she was doing, he had no doubt, and if possible, his dick hardened even more with the mere thought of what else she might be good at.

  After what seemed like an eternity, her weight shifted lower, and he opened his eyes, looked down as her face disappeared behind a curtain of auburn curls. Through the smooth material of his briefs, she nipped and licked from the tip of his cock to his scrotum. Then she reversed the move.

  “Damn, Sydney, I hope you plan to do more than tease me.” He fought the urge to pop his erection from his underwear and save her the trouble.

  “Turnabout is fair play.” She tugged the skimpy material down and his cock sprang up from its cotton restraints. A smile spread across her face. “Hmm. Impressive.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  Boldness became her. He interlaced his hands behind his head, trying to pretend he wasn’t on fire inside, but when Sydney wrapped her hands around his length, his smug smile slid away.

  Each stroke of her small hands—drawn-out movements with soft twists to his tip—fed his swelling arousal. Every ounce of blood left in his body rushed to his staff.

  She lowered her head, teased the tip of his length with her tongue, lapping at the beaded drip of pre-come before closing her lips around his glans and sucking hard.

  “Shit,” he groaned, reflexively thrusting his hips up, trying to force more contact, but she wasn’t fazed—or persuaded. Her attentions didn’t stray, and she continued teasing his tip.

  One of her hands moved lower and tried to cup his sac, and she cursed. “Damn underwear.” She tugged at the material until his balls hung free. “Are you sure you don’t want to break the rules?”

  “Someone’s coming awfully close to it already.” He tried to keep his voice playful, unwilling to show her how much she affected him. Weakness wasn’t a trait he could afford to acquire now.

  “I don’t think the owner will kick us out.” She cupped her hands around his balls and massaged them. “Do you?”

  “A good leader…” Her gentle manipulations sent his higher brain functions into reverse. It would only be a matter of moments before he reverted to caveman mentality. “…leads by example.”

  “Then maybe I should find another dick to play with…”

  She lifted his balls, ran her tongue along the sensitive underside of his sac while her other hand continued stroking his shaft.

  Something closely resembling jealousy flashed behind his eyes. Like hell would he let another man touch her—unless, of course, he was there to watch. “And if you did, I’d drag you back in here by your hair and use the restraints in that drawer.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  She drew one of his orbs into her hot, wet mouth and moved it around with her tongue. His body went rigid. On instinct he speared his fingers through her auburn hair and massaged her skull. Her mouth never stopped working its magic.

  She shielded her teeth with her lips and mouthed him until his rigid cock throbbed with the need for release.

  Tugging her hair, he whispered, “My dick’s getting jealous, Sydney…”

  “I’ll get to it.”

  Opening wide, she drew both stones into her mouth. One of her fingernails gently scraped along the nerve-rich area between his shaft and his anus, and when he couldn’t stand it a second longer, he pulled her hair until she finally lifted her head.

  Wrangling her hair free, she pushed along his body and reached for the little drawer with all the toys. Since her breasts were smothering his face, he found a rigid nipple and gave it some attention. Swirling his tongue over the hardened tip, he enjoyed each and every subtle, womanly texture.

  His incubus powers not only made him more in tune with the physical wants of her body, but it also made him more aware of the physical nuances of her features. He could literally taste her, smell her—a subtle hint of lavender and lust that weaved an erotic spell all its own.

  When she started to move away, he held her tight. “Stay.”

  “Uh-uh. You had your fun.” She held up a silver bullet vibrator, and it buzzed to life. “I’m going to have mine.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What are you planning on doing with that?”

  “Have fun.”

  Her smile belonged on a master criminal, and concern had him pushing up onto his elbows. “Care to elaborate on that?”

  “No.”

  “Sydney—”

  “Just trust me…”

  That was easier said than done these days, but she’d trusted him with her body. It was only fair to trust his to her.

  Silver bullet in hand, she pressed her palm against his balls. She’d put the device on low, and the shallow vibrations tickled through his sac and into his cock.

  “Holy shit.”

  Always being the one doing the seducing, he usually expended most of his effort on pleasuring his partner’s body, working her until he could bed her and take what he needed. The seduction of Sydney James, however, was going severely off course, and he didn’t know how—or if he wanted—to stop it.

  She kissed the tip of his length then, gripping the base of his sex, took him deep into her mouth—until his glans touched the back of her esophagus. Swallowing, her throat clasped around his head in a tapering move from tip to base.

  “You have the most incredible mouth.” His fingers sliced through her hair, cupping her skull. Suctioning hard as she came up, releasing on her way down, Sydney lavished her tongue along his erection in lazy sweeps. The hand cupping his sac shifted slightly, then two fingers teased the area between his sac and his anus.

  With steady pulses, she pressed the pads of her fingers against his perineum, each compression and release moving closer and closer to his anus. Shit, was she going for the G-spot? This woman was incredible…but he didn’t
want to come in her mouth. Not yet. Not here.

  On the verge of exploding as it was, he brought his knees up and broke the suction between his cock and her hot, knowledgeable mouth. “Come here,” he groaned, getting to his knees and pulling her to him.

  Forcing her legs apart, he slid his hands along her thighs, stopping at her labia and tugging her panties aside.

  “What are you doing?” she panted. “I thought sex wasn’t allowed in here.”

  “Trust me.”

  Damn, there were those words again. Trust me…

  He pushed the thoughts aside. The only thing that mattered now was finding release, his and hers.

  With one hand, he spread her pussy lips while the other guided his cock between her legs. She was still so wet, so juicy, he wanted nothing more than to ram his sex into her pussy and start pounding, ravage her cunt until reality disappeared, but given their current surroundings, he settled for sliding his length along her clit.

  “Bring your legs together,” he groaned, no longer able to keep the desire from his voice. She obeyed without question, and he brought a hand around her backside to hold his cock firmly against her.

  And started thrusting.

  “Damien…”

  Sydney wrapped her arms tightly around him as his hardness sliced against her clit, the friction working her bundle of nerves. Her nails bit into his back, clawed a painfully tantalizing trail to his ass, and dug in, encouraging him to thrust harder.

  “God, I want you inside me, Damien. It’s been so long since I’ve been fucked.”

  He yanked her hair until she lifted her head and looked at him. “Don’t worry, novia. You won’t get off this island until you’ve been thoroughly fucked.”

  “Then do it now.” Her fingernails dug deeper into his backside. “Fuck the rules, Damien. Fuck me…”

  And in that moment, he surrendered to the needs and wants of his body. Nothing else mattered. Contracts. Payments. Seductions. They all fled his mind, and he clamped his arms around Sydney and lifted her from the mattress.

  Her legs came around him in an automatic response. He swept back the sheer canopy surrounding them and stepped from the bed.

  “W-what you doing?” she asked, gripping him with frantic arms.

  “Taking you somewhere where we can finish this properly.”

  Chapter Five

  Emerging from a fluorescent-lit hallway into a room drenched in shadows, Sydney gripped Damien with uncertain limbs. She tried to get her bearings but anticipation swirled in her mind, blocking higher brain functions. Before she asked where they were, Damien plopped her down on something cold—very, very cold—and she jumped off as fast as he deposited her. What the—

  She whirled around, cocked her head to the side. He’d sat her on a set of squat metal shelves? Where the hell were they?

  A quick glance about the mostly dark room revealed even more shelves, each one brimming with varying sized boxes and supplies. “Are we in a storage room?”

  Damien stood in the far corner. His underwear lay on the floor between them. Ripping into one of the many boxes, he answered without looking back. “Sexual supply closet seven.”

  “What?” Her mind was incapable of formulating any other response.

  He plucked a long wrapped package from the box. “There are twenty-one of these rooms throughout the club. Each supplies up to three different areas.” When she opened her mouth again, he added, “No more questions, Sydney. I didn’t bring you in here to talk.”

  Ripping off one of the condoms, he tossed the remaining sleeve on the ground. “Take off your panties,” he ordered.

  Her hands instinctively came up to cover her naked breasts. The bravado and need filling her a few moments ago was chilling with every second their bodies remained apart. “This really isn’t the type of place I—”

  “Take them off now.” He tore open the package in his hands and rolled the condom onto his massive cock, pinched the tip, and smoothed the latex. “Or I’ll do it for you”

  “It’s just that—”

  “I warned you,” he growled, and before she even uttered another pathetic excuse, he crossed the space between them and yanked her against him, pliant breasts against rippled muscle. “You said you wanted me inside you. Well, sweetheart, you’re about to get your wish.”

  He spun her around and pressed her against another set of metal shelving. The front edge of a shelf bit painfully into her stomach as he wrenched her panties down to her knees.

  “Damien, I’m not sure I—”

  In one commanding move his forceful hands gripped the flares of her hips, and he drove his fat cock deep inside her pussy.

  A loud cry leapt from her mouth, half pleasure, half pain. Hard strokes stretched her core and pounded her into the storage rack. She pressed her hands against the shelf for support, pushing back both to alleviate the pressure on her abdomen and to increase contact with Damien’s thrusting body.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” she groaned in disjointed spurts, gripping the railing so hard her knuckles turned white. “Why did I wait so long between fucks?”

  Another orgasm played hide-and-seek in her belly, hovering just out of reach. She threw her head back against Damien’s wide chest. Her questing lips tried to lure his to hers, but again, his mouth avoided the contact.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered. “I want to feel even closer to you.”

  “Isn’t what I’m doing to you now the most intimate of acts?”

  Never stopping his plowing thrusts, his hand moved from its perch on her hip and slid forward to stroke her clit. And she forgot about his lips.

  The ecstasy inside her expanded as the friction of their joined bodies burned hotter and hotter. With each powerful thrust, he crammed his thick cock into her wetness, tapping and stimulating the sensitive G-spot with expert precision.

  “Syd…”

  His voice sounded as ragged and vulnerable as the powerful emotions running amuck inside her. God, what was happening to her?

  She felt as if she were reverting and moving forward at the same time. The past year, she’d tried to harness and control her sexual cravings, only to realize too late that they couldn’t be controlled, but at the moment, she really didn’t care. The thoughts, the emotions were too much to take in, to organize.

  Her arms began to shake as Damien’s pounding increased, both in speed and power. She wasn’t sure how much longer her muscles could hold against the onslaught.

  “Turn me around,” she whimpered. “I can’t keep pushing, I can’t—”

  “Not yet.” His rigid thickness kept slamming home.

  “But…oh shit, oh God, oh shit, oh God, oh shit…Damieeeeen!”

  Her arms locked and her entire body went rigid with her release—the orgasm more devastating than the F5 tornado that had torn through her hometown last spring. A prickly sensation spread from her belly, creeping up her spine, seizing her lungs in pleasure. She couldn’t breathe. Her skin burned, both from the lack of air and from the still-cresting destruction of her explosive climax.

  Damien, however, was far from finished. He crammed his erection harder into her pussy. His rhythmic hammering was taking her higher than she’d ever been, so high she feared she would pass out in his arms.

  Finally his fierce grip eased and he leaned forward. His hands slid to her breasts and played with her nipples. “It’s so much fun making you come,” he mumbled, drawing the dangling lobe of her ear into his mouth. “But I especially love the way you scream my name when I fuck you.”

  She sighed when his cock slid from her, and he spun her around. A quick glance at his still-aroused length told her two things. One, he wasn’t finished with her. And two…

  She’d be screaming his name again soon.

  hhh

  Everything Sydney did only further confused him. After making out like crazy in the restaurant and fucking each other brainless in the sexual supply closet, her shyness and reserve once again consumed her in crushing waves. Nothi
ng at all like the confident sex goddess she’d been moments ago, not by a long shot. This was a woman still fighting herself.

  He pushed open a frosted glass door and, hand on her hip, ushered Sydney into his favorite section of the club. The Rub Down, a fifteen-room massage suite, was designed to soothe the tension away from every part of the body.

  “This is our level-two massage suite,” he told Sydney when he saw the question flittering through her green eyes.

  “Level two?”

  “Yes. We have three levels of massage suites at the club. Level twos are the most popular and usually get booked first.”

  “I’m not sure I want to know why.”

  “Because everyone on staff here is certified in varying forms of massage from around the globe.”

  Her shoulders lifted and her gaze searched him then the room. “Nothing kinky goes on in here? I’m not buying it.”

  He lifted the corner of his lips and raised his palms to almost shoulder height. “This is a resort created to help people indulge in their deepest, darkest fantasies. That would be a safe assumption.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  He turned to her. If she needed reassurance, he’d give it to her because it was the one thing he could offer her. Trust was out of the question.

  “The level one is your basic massage, sensual not sexual. Level two raises the bar a notch, but it’s tame compared to the types of massage offered in the level-three suite.”

  She shook her head, but he pressed his index finger to her lips before an argument escaped. “Just trust me, novia. I won’t let anything happen you don’t really want.”

  Before she could counter him, he strode to the front desk but stopped two steps shy. He’d just called her novia. Sweetheart. He’d called her that in the restaurant too. That didn’t bode well for him or his mission.

  “Mr. Blake,” the young brunette behind the counter called, giving his brain a good kick. “How are you this evening, sir?”

  “Fine, Bren.” He stepped to the counter and leaned forward, interlacing his fingers on the marble countertop and trying like hell to shake off his verbal slip. Novia was an intimate term, one he’d never used regarding a seduction or any other conquest. The fine-print nightmare in his contract must really be getting under his skin. “Are there any rooms still available this evening?”