Madelynne Ellis - Anything But Vanilla

Table of Contents

Title Page ANYTHING BUT VANILLA Madelynne Ellis

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

More from Mischief

About Mischief

Copyright

About the Publisher

If she’d thought about it, then it might have happened differently. Kara didn’t think. She acted. That was why she stood crushed against the railing bordering the canal with her knickers around her ankles. The sweet caress of cool air barely had time to stir against her skin before two warm fingers had replaced it. A thumb swept the line of her slit, driving her up on to toes that were already squashed into ultra-high heels. Hell, that was good. Relief swept through her muscles, replacing the tension there with sweet, sweet bellyache. She needed this. Needed it so much she was hard pressed not to grab hold of his hand and mash the whole lot against her clit. Instead, she writhed against the tease, determined to manipulate his fingers into the exact spot she needed them.

‘Eager for this, aren’t you?’ She felt his smile rather than saw it, as he mouthed along the edge of her jaw. He had an interesting smile, a bit too big and more than a little wolfish. It was that grin that made her pause long enough to accept the drink he offered her, and then to accept being tugged out on to the dance floor, where they’d bumped and ground their way into companionable bliss. When they’d walked outside, it hadn’t mattered who led, or that they’d practically spoken in monosyllables all night. Thumping club hits tended to transform anything more eloquent into a series of ‘eh?’s and ‘what?’s. Body language was key. Body language was all that mattered now.

‘Less talk,’ Kara barked. There’d been too much talk in her life the last few days. She drove her mouth hard against his lips, ready to worship their generous curves. His perfect cupid’s bow moulded to her wide mouth with charming precision. In response, he pressed into her, connecting them from chest to shin save for a little space occupied by his questing hand.

Back and forth, his thumb continued to sweep, until her moisture coated his fingers and turned the motion into a glide. She might be insane for this, but by God he knew how to treat her right. Her clit perked up, hard as a nut, until it was peeping from between the lips of her pussy all desperate for some direct action rather than the elusive pulls on the skin around it.

‘Oh, now what have we here?’ Mirth flashed from the depths of his eyes as he circled her pearl as though he were drawing a thread around it. ‘Could it be I’ve found something important?’

Oh, lord! He’d found it all right. Damn, it was almost too sweet to tolerate.

Intense arousal flushed Kara’s face. Her own need was a metallic taste in her mouth, sharp and bitter like freshly cut lime. Her nipples poked up against the fabric of her dress, desperate for a share of the action.

Jack – was it Jack? She’d never really caught his name over the pounding bass inside the club – cupped one breast. He mouthed the nipple through her dress and bra until all that remained of her was ache and need.

‘Enough with the tease.’

His eyes shone with the fact that he was on to a winner. ‘What tease would that be?’ The devil slid two fingers into her as he spoke, provoking a groan. ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to be lazy.’

‘What I want,’ she said smiling back at him, ‘is for you to put that pretty mouth of yours to better use.’

‘Yeah?’ His wing-like eyebrows briefly lifted. The quick flicker of boyish adulation in his eyes was ridiculously endearing.

Kara wrenched aside the materials covering her breast and guided his head into place. His breath tickled her skin first, then the tip of his tongue, before he fell to working the whole nipple. ‘Yes, yes, just there. Harder,’ she insisted, as she wove her fingers into the back of his hair. With a mouth this good, no way was she letting him escape. She could only imagine how his mobile lips and that tongue would feel against her clit. As it was, a spark stream now connected her nipple to her cunt, where his hand continued to work. Hell, much more of this and he’d bring her off before he ever got anything out of it.

Jack seemed to realise that too. He shook his head to dislodge her grip and shifted his feet so that he could rub up against her hip. She supposed it was quite a subtle move in the scheme of things; there was certainly something enticing about having him writhe against her like that. His erection lay like a sturdy brand behind his fly, already one hundred per cent ready to satisfy. It had to be uncomfortable all caged up like that, which just made her like him all the more for not taking his hands off her to ease his own discomfort.

‘Let me,’ Kara insisted. She might be many things, fricking crazy, jobless, homeless as of 7.30 this morning and tipsy as fuck, but to her way of thinking sex was definitely about give and take. Otherwise you might as well cosy up with a vibe and a good book.

Jack made no protest. She grabbed him hard around the arse, grinned in delight as his muscles tightened. He was tall and big-boned, but sleek as a panther beneath his black jeans and equally black top. The sort of man whom you could imagine creeping across the rooftops as a cat burglar or delivering boxes of Milk Tray. Not the sort of rogue that normally wetted her knickers. Fuck, but he tasted more delicious than any chocolate, peppery and citrous, mingled with the sharp tang of salt. It took a moment to release his buckle, less time to open his fly and expose his cock. Kara palmed him through his briefs, teasing him in the way he’d tormented her.

She couldn’t keep it up, much as she wanted to make him sweat. She was too antsy and he was already close, that much was evident from the sharp noise he made in the back of his throat when her fist tightened around his shaft. The reflection of the fairy lights strung from the trees lining the quayside glinted in the depths of his eyes. She watched their sparkle a moment, until his eyelids drooped. ‘You got something?’

His eyes snapped open immediately. ‘Back pocket. Think you can reach it?’

She copped another good feel of his butt as she wrestled the foil from his pocket.

‘Want to do the honours?’ he asked.

‘You betcha.’ She was going to go stark raving crazy if she didn’t get him inside her soon. Jack – Jack who was showing the first traces of a shadow around his jaw and who was going to feel fucking amazing inside her.

Jack sagged against her shoulder as she split the wrapper. The curve of his lips clove to the pulse point in her neck. He nibbled, began to suck. Damn! Kara bit her lip. It was difficult to concentrate when he was distracting her like that. Still, she took her time dressing him. She liked that he didn’t rush her, which meant she got to explore his whole length as she rolled the sheath into place. His cock curved sabre-like towards his body. He was uncut, the skin drawn back like a collar around the silky-smooth tip. A small tattoo of a pentacle occupied the space just below his right hip, the ink dark against the white of his skin. If there was time and somewhere comfortable – if, if, if. She wanted to explore him more thoroughly, get him properly naked. Suddenly it was important to see if the brown thatch of hair around his groin extended upwards. She followed the silky trail to his navel, shoved his ribbed T-shirt out of the way to see the rest. Golden-brown hairs circled his nipples and filled all the space between. Beneath that sign of masculinity he was tautly muscled and every bit as sleek as his outfit suggested. Part of her actually longed to step back and admire him. If she commanded him to stay would he do it? Would he stand exposed against the iron railings, with the dark, mirrored surface of the canal behind him, and let her gorge herself on the visual feast of him? Hairy men turned her on. It didn’t matter if was an unruly mass of curls upon a man’s head or just thick tawny hairs upon his arms. There was something exciting about a man with some body hair, particularly a good-looking one. So many of them shaved or waxed.