Nicola Marsh - Sweet Thing / Make Me Want

There was something incredibly hot about a shy, reserved woman taking charge, and having her go for my package served to ratchet up the desire pounding through me to a relentless beat.

‘Turn around.’

If my guttural growl frightened her, she didn’t show it. Instead, her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip before she pouted. ‘But I want to see the pirate. All of him.’

‘You will, babe, trust me.’ I flashed a wolfish grin. ‘But first, I need to see all of you.’

Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, so I hit the dimmer switch, willing to do anything to make her more comfortable.

Anything but stop.

Because I’d ditched my reservations around the time she’d ditched hers and stuck her hand in my pants.

I couldn’t stop this. I didn’t want to.

Not when she’d articulated exactly what this was. A rebound fuck. We both knew the score and that made it okay.

She didn’t expect hearts and flowers.

She wanted hard and fast.

After over a year of celibacy—I didn’t have a frigging clue how that had happened considering how damn gorgeous she was—she wanted to use me to break the drought.

The good girl wanting the bad boy to make it all better, even if it was only for one night.

This I could do.

The moment she’d taken emotion out of the equation and shown me exactly what she wanted, I couldn’t say no.

I understood wanting to obliterate the past with something a tad wild, something not entirely good, something to make you forget. Boy, did I understand.

‘I want you,’ she said, the vulnerability of a moment ago fading as she eyeballed me with unabashed hunger. ‘Real bad.’

‘The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.’ I spun her around and homed in on her zipper. Slid the tab down, the rasp of metal against metal meshing with her soft pants of anticipation.

I imagined expanses of soft, creamy skin. Unblemished. Untarnished. The opposite of mine. When I hit the bottom she whimpered a little. I slid my hands up her back. Pushed the dress off her shoulders.

It pooled at her feet, leaving her in matching black satin bra and panties. French cut. Almost prophetic. I liked everything French. French food. French fries. French kissing. And French panties I could tear off with my teeth to feast on her.

Her skin was as beautiful as I’d imagined and I trailed my fingertips across the top of her ass, skirted her waist, drifted upward, loving how soft she felt. She trembled a little as I unhooked the bra and stepped closer to slide it off her arms.

‘Beautiful,’ I murmured in her ear as I slid my arms around her from behind to cup her breasts. To savour the weight of them. To flick her light brown nipples with my thumbs. ‘I can’t wait to taste you.’

She made an incoherent sound as her head lolled back a little and I captured her mouth, plucking at her nipples. A deep tongue-tangling kiss, assertive and greedy, as I marvelled at the sweet taste of her, the hot moistness of her mouth, a prelude to how she’d be when I feasted lower.

‘More,’ she demanded between kisses, and I was only too happy to oblige.

Without taking my mouth off hers, I spun her towards me and ground my hand against her mound.

She moaned and I pushed her panties down, waiting until she’d kicked them off before sliding my fingers between her slick folds, savouring how wet she was. For me.

‘Tanner, please...’

I wanted to prolong this, to go down on her once, maybe twice, before finally getting off. But my own months of celibacy ensured I’d take things slow later.

We had all night.

I zeroed in on her clit. Circled it twice. Stunned when she came apart so damn fast.

I hadn’t pegged her for a screamer but she made enough noise to make me thankful for the club’s soundproofing in every room.

‘Wow,’ she said, her head sagging against my shoulder, her body trembling with aftershocks. ‘I think I needed that.’

I chuckled, her bluntness refreshing. Women didn’t articulate much after sex beyond asking where the shower was and implying they wanted another date.

‘Plenty more where that came from,’ I said, gently easing her away, unable to stop grinning like an idiot when I took in her tousled hair, flushed cheeks and swollen lips. ‘In case you were wondering, I love giving head and I plan on going down on you several times tonight.’

Her mouth parted in a shocked O before I continued. ‘But first, I need to fuck you. Think you can handle that?’

Her eyes glittered with desire as she nodded and reached for me.

I’d wanted to shuck my jeans and jocks off in record time, get protected and bury myself to the hilt inside her before I exploded. But I let her call the shots because this was her night.

She unsnapped the button on my jeans and, with unsteady hands, yanked the zipper down.

‘Easy, babe. Inflicting a mortal injury on me at this stage won’t do either of us any good.’

‘I want to see you,’ she said, eyes wide as she pushed my jeans down my legs, her hungry gaze riveted to the bulge in my jocks.

‘Be my guest.’ I toed off my shoes and socks, and kicked my jeans away. ‘Though haven’t you heard staring too long at a guy’s cock makes you go blind?’

‘I thought playing with it did that?’

I chuckled. Not so innocent after all. ‘You’re something else.’

A hint of sadness crept into her eyes and I cursed for inadvertently saying the wrong thing. ‘You okay?’

Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she shook her head a little. ‘I—I haven’t done this a lot. And I’m not very good...’

‘That useless prick.’ An explosive rage filled me at the thought of what her ex had done to her self-esteem. ‘Sweetheart, look at me.’

I placed my finger under her chin and tilted it up, the uncertainty clouding her eyes slugging me in the chest. ‘It wouldn’t matter to me if you were a frigging virgin. This thing between us is pretty damn hot. Fireworks hot. So when we get to the good stuff you’ll forget that bastard who did a number on you because I guarantee any problems you had were with him, not you.’

‘How can you be so sure—?’

I kissed her. I wouldn’t give her any more time to doubt. I had to show her.

She ignited again, her hands everywhere. Grabbing my biceps. My waist. Moaning into my mouth as she dug her fingers into my ass like she couldn’t get enough.

I lowered her onto the sofa and broke the kiss, hovering over her like some goddamn avenging angel as she stared at me in wide-eyed wonder.

‘That thing you said earlier? About wanting to do me?’ She didn’t break eye contact as she shimmied out of her panties. ‘Please do it.’

I bit back a smile at her avoiding the F word, considering she was naked in front of me, and I didn’t have to be asked twice as my gaze zeroed in on nirvana. I liked a full bush and appreciated that she hadn’t gone for the Brazilian job many women favoured these days.

‘Now it’s your turn,’ she said, splayed on the sofa like a wanton sex goddess. ‘I want to see all of you.’

I slipped my thumbs under the elastic of my jocks and pushed them down and she gasped as my cock sprang free.

‘You’re huge!’ She blushed as she continued to stare, unable to look away. ‘I mean, I haven’t seen many before. In fact, only one, and that was less than impressive, but you’re quite big...’ She wolf-whistled and I laughed to hide my surprise that she’d only been with her ex.

No wonder she had reservations when it came to sex. If the guy had been clueless in the bedroom he would’ve shoved his insecurities onto her. Dickhead.

‘And why does the pirate only have a torso?’ An impish smile curved her luscious lips. ‘Would’ve been so much more fun to make that his peg leg.’