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“Not even slightly, Luscious,” he said, claiming her mouth and shoving his fingers deeper inside.
The mix of sensations hurled her over the moon as he continued to send her places she shouldn’t go. They were places where the sky was azure and night was day. This wasn’t merely a bad-boy itch she was scratching. He’d laid out a standard no one could touch, and she feared once their time together had passed, she’d live out the rest of her days searching for an unattainable high.
When his hand moved from between her thighs, she practically whimpered until he once again claimed her lips, his fingers in search of protection of a personal nature inside his pocket. A telltale sound from his zipper being lowered had her gulping air because she hadn’t moved from the window. Her ass pressed on the glass and her logical mind running through blueprint building specs pulled her from the moment. This was the one time in her life she had to be in the moment, and the little orange-hat-wearing safety officer was trying to butt in. They were high above the Vegas Strip. The impact alone from the glass falling away from a good thrust would create a mix of orgasmic embarrassment as they fell to their deaths. And yet, her arm wrapped once again around his neck. She was ready for the plunge.
The final cube was plucked from the glass as Ice also grabbed the plastic fruit-stabbing saber. He brought the plastic blade to her lips, and she took one cherry into her mouth, the liquor-infused fruit helping her brace for what she knew would be next to come. The third cube had her body warming in opposition to its natural state. Shouldn’t she be cold? Naked from the waist down with ice at the edge of her channel. Only this time it went deeper, much deeper, as Ice placed the sheathed hardness of his dick at the tip and pushed inside her. She bit into the leather of his coat he hadn’t even taken off, his boots providing support as he wrapped her legs around his hips and thrust.
Coolness created an anesthetic, making her shiver and her body come alive with each deepening stroke. She thought the cold caused shrinkage, and yet, like she ran into the fire, Ice didn’t fear the cold. Thrusting as the glass braced her, he shifted her hips, locking his arms around her once fully inside. He swung her around as though she were a rag doll, and she held on to the Tilt-a-Whirl ride he provided until they crashed onto the bed. Hoisting her hips up slightly allowed him further access as he stretched the unused muscles of her core, her body ablaze with the man in no mood to douse the flame he’d begun.
Instead, he drove into her, sending her back arching and body revving, the cube a long-ago invasion that had disappeared when their bodies fully joined, like lighting a match to burn down the forest. Every inch of her was alive, and she had to strip off the camisole she wore as the fabric became an irritating barrier. Bree warmed at the Cheshire smile on the man above her as he stripped his coat and tossed it at the headboard before removing his shirt and leaning down to suckle her.
Dark cuts of ink spun in front of her as the world muted beyond the satisfied mix of mews and grunts between the two of them. Inside, a scream climbed up inside her as circuits overloaded and sparks of electricity arched through her body, spider-webbing as they spread out, leaving every molecule floating through the explosion, taking over her very soul as he spoke, the tone damnable and one she was unable to deny. At this moment, he controlled her like a puppet on a string.
“Open your eyes, Luscious,” he ordered as she struggled to lift her lids, but knew for him she would. “Let me see those pretty browns as your pussy takes every bit of me.”
Beyond her lashes, his deep gray eyes were enamored with her. His ass was half off the bed still and her knees practically pinned to her shoulders. When the hell had she become a contortionist? Then again, there was at least a 60 percent chance her bones had been absorbed into her body, because she wasn’t really sure she was still in one piece. He, on the other hand, had tight, sinewy muscles that flexed as he pulsed inside her, their bodies syncing as they collided and fell apart around each other.
He dropped, covering her and allowing her nails to claw at his back. The weight of him was therapeutic as his maleness continued to glide in and out and the last bit of hardness worked to keep her orgasms tripping off. Holding him, they became the ice, first hard and cold, only to be infused with liquor before becoming a languid puddle.
“You want me to show you again?”
“Repetition is the best way to learn.” The tremble in her voice had him smiling devilishly.
“I’ve taught more than my fair share of lessons to people over the years,” he said, rolling to his back, and the loud thump from boots hitting the carpet warned of a night’s long lecture ahead of her. “Fingers crossed I won’t need first aid, but if you bite me, you bite me.”
With a whoosh she was pulled on top of him, his fingers splayed as they glided up her stomach to between her breasts. He pulled in on his lower lip, and she swore there was a growl vibrating through his body. Or maybe it was simply concussive orgasms ticking off from the slightest movement.
“So you know, professor, I don’t allow myself anything less than an A,” she challenged, the vixen who teased her lurid fantasies somehow making her way to the real world.
“Good, because I don’t expect extra credit, but I will let you repeat a test until you score a hundred percent.”
