Madelynne Ellis - Anything But Vanilla

She was so done with Mr Metrosexual.

Jack, perhaps sensing a growing distance between them, shimmied right up close to her, and bent his head so they were looking into one another’s eyes on a level. ‘Ready?’

Like hell they were, she had no idea how they were going to accomplish anything in this position.

‘Hold yourself on the railings.’

Kara grasped the blue-painted metal. She gave a screech and a giggle as Jack hoisted her off her feet and dealt with her knickers. She guessed she was going home bare as they floated away on the canal. She wrapped her legs around him as he lined them up. They were in a public place, but there was nothing coy about his actions. No hesitation and definitely no embarrassment as his cock bucked eagerly at her entrance. That lack made her cheeks colour a little for both of them.

‘Tell me.’ He held them mere millimetres apart. ‘Tell me exactly how you want it.’

Was he a talker, or just making sure he stayed out of trouble? She could hardly cry coercion if she’d begged him for it.

Kara squeezed around his hips with her thighs, dragging them a fraction closer together. ‘I want you to fuck me.’

‘No – I never would have guessed that.’

Sarky bugger. Shit! He’d probably drop her over the railings into the canal if she admitted any of the stuff in her head, like visions of nipple clamps and chaining him to the railings. Surely the only things that mattered here were that he turned her on and she needed him. The whys and wherefores were irrelevant; the bounty of her inner life more so.

‘Nothing more than that to say?’ he queried, lifting one of his wing-like brows again. ‘You just want me to slide up and fill your cunt.’ The way he said cunt made her literally ache with need. ‘You’re not after anything flashy, just a straight hard fuck.’ He delivered as he punctuated the last word, filling her up so completely it took her body a moment to respond to the shock. Heavenly didn’t come close to describing it. It just felt right – so goddamned incredibly right. She clamped tight to his body as he drew back to give her what she’d apparently asked for. ‘You know, I’m kind of surprised. I never took you to be such a vanilla kind of girl.’

He was right. She so wasn’t. What sort of strait-laced girl fucked a stranger up against the backdrop of the murky canal? Why had it taken her so long to admit that to herself, instead of constantly trying to be good?

‘So why don’t you tell me what really gets you off? Shall I pretend I’m a vampire and sink my teeth in? Do you like a fingertip in your arse?’

‘Hold me tighter.’ Their position meant they were already pretty much jammed together with no space between. Kara bent her head to his ear. She mouthed around the lobe before breathing the words. ‘Come and then I want to lick you clean.’

The muscles in his face tightened into a grin, and then he picked up her and the pace again, pounding into her like it was a race they had to win.

Kara continued to mouth the side of his neck where the skin was thinnest and his pulse raced just below the surface. He was slippery and hard between her thighs. Her clit, already prepped by his earlier teasing, shot out darts of pleasure each time he made a forward thrust. Why wasn’t it always this good? Why could she only get this sort of relief with a stranger in a seedy venue? Why hadn’t her life worked out, and did that matter when she could get sex this good?

‘Ooohh!’ The buzz built and suddenly burst. She screamed, panted, scored a few lines across his back. He continued to fill her up the whole while, until the moment passed and she realised he was still hard and hadn’t come.

Kara shook herself free of his arms. She knelt down on the quayside. Took a little risk – what the heck – and closed her mouth over the length of him. She’d said she was going to lick him clean. Well, instead she was going to suck him off.

The plan met with no resistance from Jack. Nah, his knees buckled a bit, but he had some handy railings to cling to, which was good, because she wasn’t letting him go. He tasted too nice: part her, part him, the whole ridiculously sexy.

Kara steadied herself, with one palm flat against his inner thigh, the other wrapped around the base of his cock. She liked that he wasn’t too long. He was nicely proportioned and she got one hell of a kick out of roving her tongue over the flare of the head and tickling the sweet spot just below the eye. When he started trying to claw at her hair in order to drag her closer, she worked with the roll of his hips.

‘You’re good at this. Oh, sweetheart.’ His knuckles were white against the vivid blue railing.

‘Are you going to come?’ she asked, grinning up at him in a facetious manner.

‘So close.’

They were back to the depth of discourse they’d shared inside the club. ‘I want to watch.’ Actually, not just watch. She wanted to watch and do. Kara rose and stood beside him with her back to the railing. She cupped his length with one hand and shoved her other hand inside her skirt so that she could rub herself in time with the thrust of his cock through the ring of her fingers. The low-level spark of her previous orgasm rekindled immediately. They almost raced. Who could cross the finish line first? Who could ejaculate the furthest? OK, he won hands down on that one. He was beautiful as he came, his face kind of screwed up and tortured looking, eyes closed, teeth gritted, as if he was doing something painful or hideous. Yet in those few moments he belonged to her totally.

Jack opened his eyes and stared at her. ‘You’re a dirty minx,’ he scoffed as he watched her give in to a minor explosion. The second big O of the day just never lived up to the first. Then he hitched up his jeans and tucked his cock out of sight. ‘Got somewhere to go?’ he asked. By which he meant: let’s continue this somewhere more comfortable.

‘Yeah – yeah, I have. I’m good.’ She dropped a kiss upon the tip of his nose, backed off, then returned to press another to those delicious lips of his. Then Kara was off, trotting across the tarmac back towards the club. She couldn’t face an awkward parting in the morning; better that they went separate ways now. And she definitely wasn’t looking for a relationship. No way. Not for a good long time.

‘Hey, where are you going?’ He moved forward as if he were about to jog after her.

Kara laughed and waved. ‘Back to my wedding party.’ She hoped he got the emphasis on my . The girls were probably scouring the dance floor for her by now. Being tipsy and high on the aftermath of awesome sex meant she could just about tolerate the thought of being found. As far as celebrations went, this one sucked, and sucked in a truly pointless, ridiculous way. It wasn’t a hen night, a point on which she’d had to correct several people. It was the fill-in party for what ought to have been her wedding night and an orgy load of sex in a hotel room before jetting off to Hawaii. Only Gavin David ‘Tosspot’ Covey had gone and ruined that by being a clingy control freak who insisted on knowing her whereabouts 24/7. More importantly, instead of apologising when she’d called the wedding off, he’d gawped at her in horror over the deposits they’d lose. No way was she signing up for a lifetime with him. She hoped the plane carrying him and Gemma – you are so not my best friend considering how fast you jumped in to console him – over the Atlantic was hit by lightning and dropped out of the sky. It seemed appropriate punishment somehow, except that she didn’t want to hurt anyone else on board so maybe they’d have to accidentally fall out of an open door or something.

Damn! And now her good mood was gone. Time to reinstate it with alcohol. A lone tear trickled down her face as she slipped back into the nightclub via the fire exit. At least she’d just had the most glorious sex she’d had in months, far better than that painting-by-numbers crap she’d been enduring with Gavin.