AMatterofLust Read online

  He stroked her thigh, caressing her from knee to hip, but never once attempting to get in between, a gentle tease that went on and on. She knew that he could have easily forced her legs apart, and she almost wanted him to, but he didn’t. He seemed content to play, his hand gliding over her skin as his mouth explored her sensitive throat.

  “You want to me touch you.” His lips brushed her ear as he spoke, his warm breath tickling her skin. His hand slid over her thigh, moving closer to her heat. “Here.” He pressed his finger against her panty-covered mound and her legs relaxed, giving him a slight opening. He pushed his hand between her thighs and ran his fingertips over the length of her entrance. She was dripping wet for him and she knew he could feel it though the thin material of her underwear.

  She parted her legs for him, but he moved his hand away, slowly moving it up the length of her body. She pressed her lips into a tight line and tried to stifle a moan of utter desperation as she arched toward his retreating hand, wanting it back very bad.

  With a smug little laugh, he reached behind her and unzipped her dress. It fell to the ground between them and she kicked it aside. He cupped her face in his hand and looked deep into her eyes. She saw wild passion in those dark depths, a need so pure and untamed it took her breath away. He slowly dragged his thumb over her bottom lip and Rena flicked out her tongue, taking a tiny taste of his skin. When he smiled, she took his thumb fully into her mouth and he slowly pumped it in and out, his eyes glazing as he watched her.

  “You do that very well,” he said, caressing her tongue with the pad of his thumb.

  She smiled then gave it a light nip. “I do a lot of things well.”

  “Oh?” he asked, raising a single, dark eyebrow. “Like what?”

  “All kinds of things,” she said, scraping her fingernails down over his tight, black shirt, his stomach, and then resting her hands on either side of the bulge in his jeans.

  He took one of her hands and placed it over his cock. “Show me.”

  She fondled him through his pants and smiled as his Adam’s apple bounced in his throat. She brushed her lips over his as she slowly unzipped his jeans, pushing them down and then taking him in her hand. He moaned against her lips as she pumped him, her thumb making circles over his engorged head. He had a huge cock, bigger than any she ever had the pleasure of experiencing, and her panties got a lot wetter at the thought of being filled by him. She gave him another long stroke and then released him to work on getting him fully naked, removing his shirt, pants, shoes. She knelt before him and looked up at the hard line of his cock, his chiseled abs, broad chest, solid pecs, strong jaw. Half of his face was concealed in shadow and he seemed almost dangerous, ominous even, a dark, sexual force. A tiny wave of fear laced with the arousal pumping through her veins and a heated shiver ran down her back. Tonight was going to be something special.

  Holding his gaze, she ran her tongue over the head of his cock and smiled when she heard his sharp intake of breath. His hands plunged into her hair and she allowed him to pull her forward, taking him into her mouth. He tasted like musk and man and she lapped and relished every inch of him. His hips rocked, gently encouraging her and she happily obliged, taking him deeper, sucking him harder. When the movement of his hips became more demanding, she was ready for him. His grip tightened in her hair and she licked and sucked him until he was completely finished. With a low moan, he braced himself against the bookshelves behind her, slumping over her in weary satisfaction.

  He only took a moment to recover and then reached down to bring her to her feet. He pressed her back against the bookshelves and kissed her deeply, thoroughly, making her toes curl. He caressed her face, her throat and then cupped her breast. When he pinched her nipple through the material of her bra, her hips twitched as jolts of desire shot straight to her pussy. He cradled her head in his hand and his tongue probed deep into her mouth, the slow, rhythmic thrusts a promise of things to come.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and his hands immediately gripped her ass. He was already hard again and she moved against him, her panties a tormenting barrier between them.

  He removed her legs from around his waist and then went to his knees before her. “My turn,” he said, and eased her panties down.

  He pressed a kiss right below her navel and then dragged his tongue down, over her belly. He gripped her thighs and spread them wider apart. Her legs quivered when he kissed the top of her entrance. He lifted one of her thighs onto his shoulder and spread her open with his fingers. The tip of his tongue traced her outer folds and Rena’s head fell back against the bookshelves, a throaty moan escaping her lips.

  His tongue was magic and he took his time, thoroughly exploring every dip and contour. Her eyelids fluttered when his tongue delved inside her and stars exploded behind her eyes when his thumb pressed against her clit. She hooked her calf across his back, using his body for leverage, demanding that he take more, make her soar higher. She ground against him and he responded, his finger working harder on her clit, his tongue plunging deeper inside her. She squeezed her eyes shut as the orgasm took her, her hips bucking against his eager, clever mouth. The orgasm arrived in a crashing wave and Rena moaned as it washed over her.

  In the next instant, he was on his feet. She heard the condom package rip open and she didn’t even have time to catch her breath before he spun her around and thrust into her from behind. He filled her completely and she felt every hot, hard inch of him deep inside her. Her fingers dug into the bookshelves when he slowly withdrew and plunged back into her, the feel of him sliding in and out almost more pleasure than she could bear. She arched her back, trying to take him deeper, needing to take him deeper. He shifted behind her, pulling her tightly against him, one arm around her waist, his index finger pressed hard against her clit. His other arm wound around her middle, his forearm between her breasts, his hand on her collarbone. His thighs pressed against hers, holding her in place, his hot, puffing breath on her throat, the scrape of his stubble sending rippling shivers down her spine. He moaned out a word in something between a whisper and growl, and bit down on the spot where her shoulder met her neck.

  It didn’t take long for fireworks to detonate in her mind, her pussy clenching around him. He held still, letting her ride out her orgasm on his cock. She trembled from the force of her impending release and a tingling ripple washed over her, heightening and intensifying her orgasm. It was a strange, highly erotic and draining sensation and it bombarded her, made her head spin. Her body shook and she cried out his name in one long, loud moan as the bizarre, mind-blowing orgasm washed her away, the world growing hazy and indistinct all around her.

  She felt him shudder, and then he thrust into her hard, his arms tightening around her, stealing her breath. Still in a daze from the strength of her strange orgasm, she turned and curled her arms around his strong shoulders, sighing contently as she rested her head against his chest. It felt so sinfully good in his arms. They stood together, holding one another and long minutes passed as they both caught their breath.

  Soon, his lips found hers again and his hands moved over her, caressing and stroking her. “More,” he breathed, his mouth hot on her throat, his hands squeezing her ass. He wrapped her legs around his waist and settled her back against the bookshelves. “I must have more.”

  Rena gasped as he reached for another condom and then entered her again, a smile growing on her face as she caught his rhythm. This night just got better and better.

  Chapter Two

  Rena rolled over in bed, slowly coming awake. She gave herself five more indulgent minutes under the warm covers and then sat up, reaching her arms out over her head in a long, languid stretch. She was relaxed, content, completely satisfied. She was also utterly exhausted. Her body yearned to snuggle under the covers and drift back to sleep, but one glance at her bedroom window convinced her that it was probably not a good idea. Judging from the darkness outside, she’d slept the entire day aw
ay. Literally. Running Lucid demanded that she live a night-orientated lifestyle, but this was pushing it even for her. She’d missed the sunset.

  She stretched again, her body beginning to register just how sore it was from her late-night exertions. She flexed her inner muscles and the memory of Trask filling her rushed back in a wave of heat and wetness. She didn’t think she’d ever been fucked so hard or so well in her entire life. Her nipples hardened as she lightly fingered her clit, allowing herself the decadent pleasure of reliving some of the better scenes from last night. Her pussy responded, wet and ready, and Rena figured she’d be willing to miss a hundred sunsets if it meant having another marathon night of sweaty goodness like that. It was a shame she was never going to see him again.

  A jaw-cracking yawn overtook her and Rena knew it was time to get out of bed before she could change her mind. She threw back the covers and stood up, but when her feet hit the floor, she swayed, exhaustion making her swoon. She clutched her head, cursing under her breath. Last night was probably the most strenuous workout she’d had in a long time, but this was ridiculous. She wasn’t that out of shape.

  She closed her eyes in an effort to squeeze out some of the fatigue and the memory of the rippling, sucking sensation from last night ran over her again in a wave of sensual warmth. It was such a strange sensation, like nothing she had ever experienced before, and the draining, drowning pleasure had brought her to heights she never dreamed existed. Coming like that night after night could become very addictive.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she muttered, shaking away the memory. She needed to focus on the practical, on the present, not on things that would never be. She took a deep breath, walked out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. Now that she was awake, her first order of business was coffee. Massive amounts of coffee.

  The rich smell of French Roast filled the kitchen and while it brewed, she thought about taking a stroll up to Lucid. Sunday nights were never busy and it was usually her night off, but she felt as though she had to do something. Anything. One part of her wanted any excuse to crawl back into bed, relive last night, masturbate and then go back to sleep, but as tempting as it was, the thought of sleeping away twenty-four solid hours was just obscene. She needed to fight the lethargy, do something productive.

  And maybe, just maybe, he might be there.

  Rena frowned. She needed to stop that train of thought. She did not want to go down the path of “what if?” with this one. She’d been around long enough to know last night for exactly what it was. Deluding herself into believing otherwise was just asking for heartbreak. She knew to never take one-night stands seriously. It was a lesson she had learned the hard way and one she didn’t intended to forget. One-night stands were meant to be fun and carefree. And one night only. Falling into the whole “but maybe this time it will be different” trap was only going to make her insane.

  Rena settled into her kitchen nook and sipped her hot, strong coffee. One thing was for sure, though—if there was ever such a thing as “chemistry” she and Trask had it. She’d known the minute she’d laid eyes on him that sex with him would be a phenomenal experience and she had not been disappointed. Everything about last night had been intuitive and natural and fun. They had shared a kind of free-flowing insight that in her experience only happened after months of exploring and experimenting.

  And would never happen again, she told herself with as much firmness as she could muster. Which wasn’t much. She really wanted to see him again. Just one more time. Just one more night. Just one more chance to breathe in the scent of his skin, to feel his heat, to be in his arms.

  She put her coffee aside and stood up. This was pointless. Maybe a shower would help.

  She went upstairs and stripped down, but a flash of something in the full-length mirror on the other side of her bedroom caught her eye, making her pause. She approached the mirror and twisted around, frowning at the discolored mark she discovered on the back of her shoulder. A mark very obviously left by Trask’s teeth. She wanted to be pissed off that he’d marked her like some kind of horny teenager, but in an odd, unsettling way, it pleased her. She brushed her fingers over it and tingles raced along her nerve endings. She clearly remembered him biting her as he fucked her. His cock had been deep and hard, filling her completely. She could almost feel him again and heat fired in her belly, her pussy aching to be filled.

  They’d spent hours up in her office, fucking, licking, sucking, playing and when they had finally stumbled back downstairs the weak rays of sunlight were beginning to lighten the sky. Their footsteps were loud as they crossed the silent, empty club. They parted at the entrance with a kiss, which was nice, but no numbers were exchanged, no plans were made to see one another again. She closed her eyes, reliving that moment, that slow, searching, penetrating kiss that was everything him. It had been so wonderful, so full of promise, but then he was gone, slipping out the door and melting into the remaining shadows of the night.

  Rena shook her head at herself in the mirror. Sure the sex was good, but all this angst and pining was not like her. She’d never gone this wild over a one-night stand even when she’d been young and stupid. It had to be more a symptom of her loneliness rather than any real desire for the man himself. He was a stranger after all.

  She smiled. An utterly sexy stranger. Everything about Trask screamed bad boy. He was the kind of man who lived life hard and fast and would be willing to take a risk, go crazy, let out a primal scream. Her Darkman wouldn’t shy away from much and she had a feeling he would be willing to take on any challenge she offered without hesitation.

  Bad boys could be so much fun, but the problem with bad boys was that they were actually bad. They broke girls’ hearts. And Trask was probably the baddest of them all. There was something dark about him, almost menacing. Dangerous. Not that she had felt unsafe with him—quite the opposite, in fact—it was more a feeling that he could take her on a trip down the more lurid corridors of her mind, show her things that could only happen in the deepest, darkest hours of the night and then leave her wanting more.

  She sifted her weight with a heavy sigh. Even if he was at the club, even if he did decide to see her again, she wasn’t stupid enough to believe anything could come of it. People who fuck upon meeting were not destined for lasting, meaningful relationships. It just did not happen.

  “Does. Not. Matter.” She enunciated each word carefully, looking herself dead in the eye, trying to finally drive the point home. She hoped this time it would work.

  She pushed the thoughts away and gave herself a critical once over in the mirror. She twisted around, trying to see every angle and after some intense scrutiny, decided that things could probably be much worse. She knew she could use a trip or five to the gym, but Trask hadn’t seemed to mind. Not at all. She smiled to herself and cupped her left breast, remembering his touch.

  He had made her feel so beautiful. Desired. Sexy. Comfortable in a way she had never been with another man. There was none of the usual underlying worries, the nagging paranoia and pestering annoyances that always came with even the best sex. Would he like something else better? Can he see my cellulite in this light? Was he ever going to come? With Trask, none of that had mattered. There had only been him and her, touching and panting, bodies damp with a light sheen of sweat, their soft moans mingling in the night.

  “All right, enough,” she said, turning away from the mirror. It was time to take a shower.

  Tonight was going to be a good night to go to work. There wasn’t a whole lot to do on Sundays, but maybe she could reorganize the liquor closet. Or perhaps do the staff schedule for the next couple of months. Maybe she could even jump behind the bar and do some bartending. It had been long time since she’d last done that. It might be fun.

  Rena concentrated very hard on all the possibilities of the night ahead of her as she headed for the bathroom. There was going to be so much to do at the club, she wasn’t going to have a moment to think.

  * * * * *<
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  He should have been full. Sated. Last night’s escapade should have been enough to keep him satisfied for weeks. He should not be thinking of the woman with the crazy red hair and the tightest, sweetest pussy he’d ever had the pleasure of sinking into. The taste of her should not still be fresh in his mind and his mouth should absolutely not be watering at the thought of having her again. It was wrong. It was stupid. It was a waste of his time.

  The bartender gave Trask a winning, captain-of-the-football-team grin and shook his head. “Sorry, man. I haven’t seen her.”

  Trask sighed and looked around the club. Lucid was more subdued tonight, the deep, jazzy blues music in the background creating a sensual, laid-back vibe. It was a night for murmured conversations, lounging on the couches that lined the dance floor, sipping red wine. A night for languid sex, the kind that went slow and deep and long.

  He probed the club once more, hoping this time he would find her, but he knew Rena wasn’t there. He could sense her absence, feel the empty void where there should have been a font of electrifying life. He turned his attention back to the bartender. She wasn’t there now, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be there at all. “When will she be in?”

  “Hard to say,” the bartender said with a shrug. “She doesn’t usually come in on Sundays, but with Rena you never know. She loves this place and I think she comes in sometimes just to be here.”

  Something in the man’s tone, in the gleam in his eye, made Trask wonder if he had some kind of relationship with her other than professional. A feeling he had no name for swept over him, filling him with something close to rage. Had she slept with this man? Did she care for him? Rena was his. He would not share her.

  “’Course,” the bartender went on, oblivious to Trask’s violent surge of emotion, “if she had a life maybe that would be a different story.” The bartender eyed him closely and Trask could feel the weight of the man’s regard. “You were here last night.”