Night Games (The Storm Inside #6) Page 16

  “Can’t we do both?” His voice squeaked like a teenager and I knew I had him.

  “One or the other.” Both were dirty and fun while keeping me completely emotionally unattached. Pleasure without the pain.

  His eyes drifted over the items I’d laid out and he licked his lips. “Well now, that’s a hard choice to make seeing as they both have quite a few benefits.” The erection in his shorts kept growing until I was fairly certain he was completely hard. “I love what your mouth does to my dick, and your hands . . . I’ve never let a woman do the things you’ve done to me. So yeah, I really want to do that again. Have I mentioned how hard I get thinking of you getting off while sucking me?”

  “Yes,” I murmured picking up the Ben Wa balls and rolling them in my hands. “Is that a bonus challenge? Get off with these before you get off in my mouth?”

  He swallowed again. “Maybe next time. Today I want you.” He moved fast. Much faster than I expected considering how dazed he looked only a moment before. He dumped the items back into their box and shoved it away, opened his nightstand and removed one of those weighted eye pillows. “Would you like me to warm this up?” He pressed it against my eyes.

  “Yes.”

  He grinned, pulling the pillow back. “On the bed, babe. I’ll be right back.”

  I was a little surprised he’d chosen the second option, but considering I was going to get one hell of an orgasm either way, I supposed it didn’t really matter. So I climbed into the center of the bed and stretched out, closing my eyes.

  I could hear him moving around. Music began filtering through the air as he turned on some sort of soothing meditation music. The bed dipped. “You ready?”

  I nodded and a moment later the warmed pillow was over my eyes.

  “You’re so tense, babe. I want you to relax for me. Take a deep breath and just chill. I’m in charge and the only thing I want you to do for the next hour is let me know if you don’t like something. Can you do that?”

  How could he tell I was tense? And why did he care? I’d offered dirty oral sex. “Fine.”

  He chuckled. “Only you, Carrie. Only you.”

  The next thing I heard was the sound of lotion and then . . . oh yes. He started massaging my neck and chest, then down my arms to my fingers. He didn’t say a word and eventually I started to drift away from thinking and simply enjoy the way it felt to be touched in a way that was designed to sooth. Eventually he finished my legs and started to turn up the pleasure, massaging my breasts and between my thighs.

  And then, oh and then, his head was between my thighs, parting me and licking until I was swollen and sensitive. The weight of the pillow over my eyes kept me from peeking and since I really did need a release I let Wes do whatever Wes wanted to do.

  Which was apparently a lot.

  He plumped my left breast and rocked his sheathed cock against me, all while circling my nipple with his tongue. Stroke by stroke he stretched me open, filling me. It still shocked me just how thick and long he was, and that it could take my breath away.

  Then he stopped moving and began to tease my nipple with little flicks of his tongue. My core contracted around his cock, making his invasion seem even larger. Flick. Flick. Flick. The flutters continued as his flicks turned to nibbles. I loved his teeth. Loved the bite of pleasure that spiked each time he closed them tighter like a clamp. My other nipple tingled for attention, even the air seemed to tease it.

  Then he suddenly switched sides, except instead of a slow build he sucked my nipple hard.

  I arched against him, moaning.

  “That’s right, babe. Relax.” He nuzzled between my breasts, then pulled out of me completely, moving back down between my legs. “I want to see just how long we can go before you get that release.” And then his mouth was warm and soft around my clit again.

  “At this rate I’m not going to last another minute.” If he’d press a finger inside me . . .

  “Oh no you don’t. If the tension in your shoulders tells me anything, it’s that you need this.” And then he was gone.

  As in completely gone.

  “Get back here. I promise you can make me come three times if you’ll just let me have this one!”

  “Nope,” he chuckled. “I know you. Long and drawn out is the only way to get you to relax.”

  Evil. Just evil. “I’ll do the balls and the plug too . . . ”

  “Bargaining means nothing to me.”

  I swiped the pillow away. “You’re seriously telling me you don’t want to put a plug in my ass, balls in my pussy, and watch as I come while sucking you off?”

  He narrowed his eyes at me and I knew I was in trouble. He grabbed the pillow and pressed it back into place. “Are you insane? Every time you say it I about come. Of course I want it. But I also know we’re not going to have any fun if I can’t get you to chill. So I’m going to draw this out for as long as I can manage, and then you’re going to come so hard and so long you’ll feel like you just ran a marathon. We’ll pass out in ridiculously happy bliss,” he moved between my legs again and dipped two fingers inside me, choking off my protest.

  I was not sleeping here.

  But oh my god that spot!

  “And then when you wake up I’m going to make you come again. And again if I have to, until you smile.”

  Then he pulled those wet fingers out and began to massage the entrance to my ass while pressing his thumb inside where his cock had just been.

  “So stop talking, Carrie. Not another word unless it’s in pleasure or pain.”

  My pleasure began to build again. Different this time, but just as intensely. I didn’t speak, only grunted and moaned to let him know when he was going too fast or to reward his work.

  “When you did this to me last weekend?” he said. “When you woke me up with your mouth? I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I’ve never had an orgasm like that.” By now his fingers and his thumb were all inside me, working together, massaging me from the inside. “I hate thinking about you with other men, learning how to please them.” He took a long, slow, shaking breath, then lowered himself down to tease my clit again. I bucked off the bed. “But I fucking love what you do to me.”

  He kissed my stomach, then moved up to my breasts, all while gently removing his hand. Using the washcloth he’d stored on the nightstand like he always did, he cleaned his hand before nestling his body on top of mine, allowing me to come down from the brink once again.

  All this teasing was starting to drive me crazy. I was hot and sweaty, swollen and ready. I’d been pleasured in practically every sensitive spot on my body, but never enough to tip over the edge.

  “Grand finale time. Are you ready, Carrie?”

  “Yes,” I whispered because that was all I could do at this point. He’d taken my mind off of everything but him.

  “Excellent.”

  I didn’t know how he planned to cap off all this lead-up, but I was excited to experience it. He blew lightly on my nipples, then sucked, then circled with his tongue. One then the other until they felt like little lightning rods ready to receive his strike. They tingled with anticipation, ached with need. Flick. Punctuated each circle with a one pass of the tip of his tongue. Flick. Again and again. Over and over until I was panting. Ready.

  Then he grabbed his cock and slowly worked his erection inside me, grunting loudly as if he were physically holding back his orgasm.

  “Fuck, Carrie. You feel so good.”

  I stretched around him. Stretched and stretched. Why was he so big? How was it possible I could accommodate him again and again? Sometimes when I watched his cock moving in and out of me I got lost in the fascination of trying to understand how it worked. He was simply huge and yet . . . we fit.

  He was deep now. So deep. He cocked his knees so that he was essentially kneeling on the bed with my legs wrapped around his waist at an angle, his erection pressing hard and awkward. I was going to protest but then, oh but then, he slid his index and middle finger
around where his cock met my pussy, gathered the wetness, and dragged it up over my incredibly sensitive and swollen clit.

  The feeling was damn near indescribable it was so intensely pleasurable. Like my nipples when he was teasing them, except a thousand percent more sensitive. It took my breath away.

  “You’re going to come for me now.”

  “Oh my god . . . ” His fingers. His cock. Everything. It was too much. He was too big. Too deep. And I was too swollen. This orgasm was going to split me in two. “No.”

  “Yes. You’ll come nice and slow, or I’ll pound you with everything I’ve got. And believe me, after half an hour of touching you and watching you buck for more, I’m more than ready to fuck you into oblivion.”

  I whimpered. I wanted both. I wanted both. This was what I’d done to Wes when I laid out his two options, and now I was being served back the same treatment in the end.

  To come and break into pieces, or be fucked so hard I wished I was in pieces? The options were too good. Too exciting.

  “That wasn’t really an option,” he said in the silence. “I told you what to do, now do it.”

  I whimpered again and relaxed, letting his fingers on my clit do the work. He pressed firm and slow, around and up, then straight down onto the very tip. “Let go, babe. Let go.”

  I shook from my head to my toes as my orgasm took over. My core contracted around his invasion, every muscle in my body tensing. I squeezed my legs together and lifted off the bed as it finally detonated. I could feel every sensational inch of him as my orgasm rocketed out from my center.

  He kept his finger on my clit, forcing my orgasm to continue, bouncing around between his fingers and the tip of his erection buried so deep inside me. “Wes!” I cried out as I collapsed backward on the bed, my orgasm still rolling fast and hard through my body. Wave after wave. Riding up and down on his dick.

  “Keep going. Keep going. Don’t you dare stop.” His fingers moved in small, firm circles now. “Damnit. Don’t you dare stop.”

  I yelled. Moaned. Screamed. Letting it all out. I rode his cock. The orgasm kept coming in waves. Harder then softer, but never completely stopping.

  “Touch yourself.”

  What would that do? Make it last longer? End it? I didn’t know at this point. I had multiple orgasms from time to time—usually of my own doing—and tended to have very long orgasms in general, but nothing like this.

  I plumped my breasts, then found my nipples, all while lost in the dark of the oblivion. I pinched and rolled, screaming out as my orgasm increased in intensity all over again, almost as if I were coming for the first time.

  “Fuck.” Wes croaked. “Keep going.”

  But it was changing now, morphing into something else. My stomach muscles tensed. I craved something new. “Fuck me, Wes. Fuck me now.”

  I wanted him deep and hard. That’s what was missing.

  He shifted forward, my hips dropped, and then . . . boom. He slammed into me, my clit taking the brunt of his body coming into contact with mine for the first time. A whole new wave of pleasure detonated.

  “Harder!” I squeezed my legs tight around his hips and bucked off the bed to meet him.

  He slammed into me again, pushing me over the sheets with the force of it. “Oh god, I’m not going to last, but you keep going. Keep going.” He was mumbling now. Lost to the inevitability.

  He pulled out to the tip and began to pound me. My core clenched hard around him, and when he buried himself, his cock twitching inside me as he barked into the mattress beside my head, I wrapped my arms around his strong back and came one last time.

  LAST NIGHT HAD NOT GONE the way I wanted.

  Well, to be clear, I got the mind-bending, body trembling orgasm of my dreams, but I totally failed at keeping my feelings in check. Plus I slept over. I also failed at torturing Wes.

  Which was why I was properly plugged and slipping a pair of Ben Wa balls into place. I hadn’t offered the nipple clamps last night but now I needed all the mind-fuckery I could muster, so I pulled those out as well, placing them carefully and giving the chain a tug before I woke Wes up.

  But first, I needed to adjust to everything. It was a lot. A good lot, but a lot. My core throbbed around the balls, which were incredibly easy to insert thanks to the plug. It was one of the reasons I loved plugs. The way my body reacted to it—I was almost always instantly wet. Everybody was a little different and this was one of my quirks.

  “Carrie?”

  His deep voice filled the air, even when it was rough from sleep.

  “I’ll be right there.” I stood carefully, allowing myself a second to adjust. Then posed in the doorway. “You ready for a bonus?”

  He blinked several times, then his eyes went wide. “Um . . . maybe?”

  “I woke up feeling needy, Wes. So I took the initiative. We’re living out option one right now. On the side of the bed.”

  He flipped back the comforter and sat up, legs on the floor.

  “Perfect.” I knelt in front of him, sliding my hands up his thighs and licking my lips as I looked up. The perfect position to make him feel powerful—and as if I were there solely to please him.

  I took him in the palm of my hand and began to stroke while I touched my clit with my other hand. “You said you get off on the idea of me coming while sucking on you. Let’s give you a little fantasy to keep.”

  He took a shaky breath. “And are you . . .?”

  I bit my lip and nodded. “I am so full, Wes.”

  He reached down and gave the chain a little tug. I gasped as the pleasure-pain shot straight to my core. “And this is extra?” He tugged again.

  My head fell back and I started panting harder. “It felt right.”

  He tugged again, the growing cock in my hand a clear signal he was turned on by seeing me turned on. “And does this feel right?” Another tug.

  My core clenched around the balls while my clit grew swollen against my finger. “It does.”

  “And will my cock feel right in your mouth?”

  “Let’s find out.” I leaned forward to lick him but he stopped me with another tug on the chain.

  “Not yet. I like your hand.”

  I shuddered. The way he said that, with a deep purr to his voice and the darkness in his eyes, it was such a turn-on. “Would you like both of my hands?”

  “Not yet. I like that you’re touching yourself while touching me.”

  “Faster?”

  He shook his head. “I want you to do to me what you’re doing to yourself.”

  Oh yes. I matched the movements of my fingers around my clit to the way I was stroking his shaft. Slow, long, purposeful. Drawing all the blood to the tip until we were both completely aroused and sensitive.

  He tugged again, drawing my eyes up to his. “What are you thinking right now?”

  Dirty thoughts. Thoughts I’d never really had before. “I want to get my fingers wet and stroke you.

  He shuddered. “Then do it.”

  I rose up on my knees, releasing his cock so I could touch myself. My fingers slid easily inside, gathering all the wetness of my arousal, and, to be honest, pleasuring myself. I moved around the balls, adjusting them.

  “I love watching you,” he said, his eyes locked onto my hands—one moving over my clit with two wide fingers, the other buried inside.

  “Touch me,” I whispered, desperate.

  He cupped my breasts and removed the clamps, the blood rushing with each beat of my heart, then pressed my breasts together to suck both nipples into his mouth at once.

  I cried out in pleasure, arching backward. He sucked harder, his hands holding my breasts tighter. I was so close. So close.

  Making a last second decision I switched my hand, moving it to enter me from behind, holding the plug in place with the palm of hand. I slid my fingers back inside and around the balls just as I pressed hard, fast circles on my clit, and Wes flicked the tips of my sensitive nipples with his tongue.

  I c
ame hard and fast. Very different from the night before. Hard waves contracted around the balls and my fingers, my body bowing forward. Wes released me, bracing me so I wouldn’t fall.

  “Was it good?” His voice came through the fog.

  “So good.”

  “My turn.”

  It was definitely his turn.

  I took my wet fingers and stroked his cock, all while coming down off my high. My wetness acted as a lubricant and my fingers glided over his thick length with ease, giving him a different kind of sensation while I pulled myself together.

  Then, without warning, I took him into my mouth with a slow, sloppy slide. It was strange to taste myself but also exactly what I wanted in that bizarre burst of inspiration when I first had this idea. This craving. Why I wanted it, I didn’t understand, but now that I was doing it—tasting myself on his hard and twitching cock—I began to form an idea. A terrifying idea.

  I liked us together.

  I sucked harder. Faster.

  Together. What the fuck was that? Was this some sort of marking instinct? We humans were filled with all kinds of strange instincts that once helped us survive.

  I cupped his balls gently, massaging, then gripped them hard and tugged.

  He groaned just the way I expected, so I kept going. I took him deeper into my throat. He was too big to ever take in completely, but I got a good couple of inches past his head. More than enough to blow his mind.

  Especially now that I knew he enjoyed being touched while sucked. I spread my legs a little wider, lowering my body a couple of inches. He was sitting just on the edge of the bed. Just enough room to access the backs of his thighs and ass.

  Using just my mouth on his cock, I moved my hands over his thighs, massaging. Then to the backs, relaxing the muscles so that he was pliant. Then I pressed the skin behind his balls and began to massage with my thumbs, up and down the seam, with firm, long strokes.

  He shuddered and moaned but didn’t move. I sucked up and down his length. He was close, he was happy, he was mine to toy with.