Page 22 of One Night on the Naughty List

She watched me through heavy-lidded eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Don’t let go of that headboard,” I said.

“Or what?” she asked, her voice breathless.

I hooked my fingers on either side of her panties and slid them down, snapping them off her ankles and tossing them over the edge of the bed. Her thighs were parted just enough to give me a glimpse of her clit, the swollen nub pink and glistening. I slipped a thumb between her slick, puffy lips and pressed it, saying, “You get punished.”

She shivered, moaning. “How?”

“I’ll lick your pussy until you scream yourself hoarse.” I gave her clit a couple strokes, gliding easily around the hard, wet point.

“Th-That’s not much of a punishment.” She gulped a breath. “I think I’d like it.”

“Well,” I said, rubbing faster, my dick throbbing at the way her hips jerked with every pass, “I’m a very lenient boss.”

Her eyes slid shut. “Yes.” She stretched the word out on a moan, her brow furrowing.

I continued to stroke her, gliding my thumb from her opening to her clit and back again as I coaxed moan after moan from her. Part of me wanted to deliver her “punishment” then and there—to push her thighs apart, bury my head between her legs, and lap up every bit of her cream. Lick her inside out until her legs shook and she forgot everything but my name.

But there was time for that later.

Right now, I had to see more of her. “Open up, sweetheart,” I murmured, my eyes on her sex. She was golden there, too, her neat thatch of curls wet from her juices.

She obeyed, spreading her thighs.

“The shoes stay on,” I said, my voice guttural as I marveled at the erotic sight of her legs flung wide and her toes pointed in the strappy black heels, her open sex dripping cream. I paused, soaking it all in, determined to sear the image into my brain so I could call it up later.

Memory was nothing compared to the real thing, though, and suddenly I couldn’t get inside her fast enough. Balancing on one hand, I maneuvered out of my boxer briefs, all my jerking and twisting making the mattress squeak again.

Samantha slit her eyes open. Her gaze went straight to my cock and her eyes popped a bit more. Apprehension flitted across her face.

Understandable. I was six-foot-three, and my equipment matched my shoe size.

“Bain—”

“It’s all right,” I told her, gripping my shaft at the base. “I won’t give you anything you can’t handle.”

She nodded, but her eyes stayed firmly on my dick. Which didn’t really help matters.

“Samantha,” I said softly, and she lifted her gaze. “I have protection.”

For a second, confusion crossed her features. Then she blushed, all awkward and adorable. “Oh. Um. I’m on the pill and… It’s been a long time.”

My heart turned over. “It’s been a long time for me, too. And I got tested after Natasha.” Memories rose, and I pushed them down. “After she left.”

Samantha’s eyes went soft. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I moved over her, wedging my hips against hers. “I’m not anymore.” And I wasn’t. Whatever pain I’d experienced led me to this moment. To the gorgeous, funny, sexy woman beneath me, her long body a perfect match for mine. I rubbed my cock along her slit, dragging my shaft up and down, bumping her clit.

Her lips parted, a shaky sigh fluttering out. The headboard creaked. She’d squeezed it too hard. “If you keep doing that…”

“Doing what?” I held myself above her on one forearm, my other hand busy with her pussy.

She gave me a look. “You know.”

“I do.” I smiled. Then I lowered my head until our lips were almost touching and whispered, “Spread as wide as you can for me, baby.” I didn’t want to hurt her.

I wanted to knock her world off its axis.

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