Page 79 of Wicked Fantasies

The brick wall at her back scratched her sensitive skin through her shirt, the slight pain driving her arousal higher. She was on fire, her body at war with her conscience. Sex had never been this raw, this hot, this damn good. His grip on her ass tightened as he lifted her higher. She arched her back slightly, guaranteeing he could move in deeper. The adjustment had him touching that very magical place she could usually only find alone with her vibrator. No man had ever managed the feat.

“Jesus,” she groaned, her fingers digging into the material of his shirt, looking for something to anchor her to this spot forever. Stars started to appear behind her closed eyelids, and she knew she was quickly approaching the point of no return.

The man growled as her orgasm struck. It was no slow buildup. No gradual occurrence. It struck like lightning, flashing through her with such intensity, her toes curled in her high heels, her legs gripping his waist like a vise. He continued to thrust inside her as she came. He gave her no surcease, no rest. Her head swam with the realization he wasn’t finished with her yet.

Thank God.

“Put your legs down.” His voice was gruff, hard, the unfamiliar sound reminding her that she was indeed having sex with a stranger.

She frowned, wanting to protest. She may be a shark at work, but she always played fair. He hadn’t gotten his due. “We’re not stopping. You didn’t come yet.”

“I want to fuck you from behind.”

His declaration sent a fresh round of juices to her pussy and she quickly complied, dropping her legs, though the damn things were unable to support her weight. He’d fucked her silly already.

“Easy,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist, twisting her until she faced the wall. He moved her body like she was made of clay, forming her, molding her until she was positioned just the way he wanted. She’d never let a man guide her like this.

Another part of the fantasy? She wasn’t sure, but there wasn’t time to consider her response when he shoved his cock to the hilt in one rough push.

She moaned, her body instantly welcoming him back with a mini-climax that shuddered throughout her frame. She vaguely heard him curse and she grinned, aware of the knowledge she was shaking some of Mr. Cool, Calm and Collected’s well-practiced restraint.

She’d seen him the second she’d entered the bar. He was hard to miss, sitting alone with a quiet confidence that seemed to proclaim the world was his for the taking. She could relate. She saw that same look in her mirror every morning. There were some people who were simply born to lead, born to conquer. She’d long ago given up fighting her nature, trying to fit into a man’s world as society’s vision of a woman. She was strong-willed, opinionated, smart and driven. She wouldn’t apologize for any of those things. One look at this stranger’s face had proven she’d found a kindred spirit.

“Bend over more,” he commanded, his hand on her upper back, pushing her lower. She complied, her palms flat against the bricks. She used her arms not only to support her against his potent onslaught, but to move back into his painfully beautiful blows. She couldn’t get enough of him.

“God,” she gasped. “Harder.”

His hands on her hips tightened and he doubled his speed, pounding inside her in the way she’d only ever dreamed of. Her dominant personality tended to scare away stronger men, leaving her with bedmates who were too gentle, too meek, too fucking lame to waste her time on. She craved this man’s strength, his confidence, his skill.

She’d covertly watched him all night, warring with herself over whether or not to approach him. The closeness she’d seen between him and Carter had solidified her decision to approach him. She knew Carter to be a shrewd, intelligent, honorable man. He wouldn’t be friends with anyone who didn’t share at least some of those traits, and it was then she knew she’d offer her one-night stand. She’d been shocked when he approached her first.

“Goddammit,” he murmured against the back of her head. She tilted her face, loving the feeling on his hot breath on her cheek as he bent over her. “So fucking good.”

She agreed. It was perfect. His words triggered a reaction, and she gave herself up to her third—and strongest—orgasm yet.

This time, she took him down with her, his body jerking into her one, two, three more times as he came. She rested her forehead against the wall, praying it didn’t leave scratches on her face. They could be hard to explain in the morning.

Both of them were gasping for breath, neither of them in a hurry to move, to part. She felt his cock softening in her body. It was over. Her most wicked fantasy realized. How many nights had she lain in bed and masturbated to the image of some faceless man approaching her in an alley, pushing her against the wall, taking her? She’d just given herself to a tall, dark, handsome, commanding stranger, and she had to admit the reality was a hell of a lot hotter than the dream.

Her traitorous body quivered a bit, sorry to see it end and ready to do it all again. He must have felt her reaction, so his words surprised her.

“Stand up.”

Regretfully, she pushed herself upright, reaching down to slip her skirt back over her hips. He pulled off the condom and disposed of it in a dumpster a few feet away before zipping up his pants. Within seconds, they were both decently covered once more.

Her panties were lying on the ground and she bent to retrieve them, but he halted her with a firm hand on her upper arm.

“Leave them there.”

Her eyes narrowed and she bristled at his continually condescending tone. It wasn’t one that ever worked well with her. It reminded her too much of her strict father.

While she’d enjoyed this stranger’s strength as he fucked her, she wasn’t a woman who would ever be commanded, ordered about.

“No,” she said, starting to bend once more. She was surprised when he released her arm, bent down and quickly scooped up her panties before she could reach them. She held out her hand, but he shook his head and put them in his pants pocket.

“Give them to me.” She held her hand up higher.

He grinned. “Nope. They’re mine. Little souvenir.”

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