Play Thing

She cleared her throat, trying to summon outrage at being held by a stranger while dressed like a stripper. ‘Let me go.’

But her command sounded soft and uncertain, falling flat if his amused smirk was any indication.

‘Do you want me to?’

He quirked an eyebrow, daring her to deny the invisible energy zapping between them.

She couldn’t explain it. She didn’t do casual sex; could count the number of times she’d actually had sex on one hand because it had been unremarkable. She didn’t believe in instant attraction or one-night stands. Or having vertical sex with a hot stranger in a warehouse.

This wasn’t her.

But what if it could be?

For a moment, she wondered where that voice had come from. Her conscience didn’t encourage her to go wild. Quite the opposite, in fact.

And where had it got her? Alone and craving a relationship.

What if she did something so out of character that she could never go back to the person she was? Would that give her the kick-start she needed to make the life she wanted happen instead of waiting for it to happen to her?

‘I don’t know you... I mean, I’m not good at this...and I don’t usually do this kind of thing with strangers—’

He kissed her. His lips were commanding, his skill obvious in the way he exacted the right amount of pressure—not too hard, not too soft...

A kiss to her meant a meshing of lips, the occasional tongue, a bit messy and nothing to rave about.

What this guy could do with his tongue...the moment it invaded her mouth and touched hers she couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but hold onto his lapels and press against him, desperate for contact.

His relentless assault on her lips made her tremble with longing. He changed the pressure, he nipped her bottom lip so hard it bordered on painful, and then he soothed it with a seductive sweep of his tongue.

A fleeting thought pierced her passion haze: could a woman orgasm from a kiss? Because she throbbed so startlingly from his mouth on hers that it had to be scientifically possible.

His fingers threaded through her hair, grazing her scalp, and she moaned at the tingling sensation it elicited. He took it as a sign of encouragement, spinning her around and hoisting her onto the table. She gasped at the cold plastic against her bare butt and he broke their kiss to stare at her in wide-eyed wonder.

‘I don’t do this. Sex with a stranger.’

‘Me either,’ she said, breathless and slightly husky. Wishing he hadn’t stopped. Wishing she had the guts to articulate how badly she wanted him to continue.

His hungry gaze locked on her, daring her to follow through on what they’d started. ‘So what do you want to do?’

He’d given her an out.

She should take it.

Her entire life revolved around rational, well-considered decisions. Weighing up facts. Making safe choices.

Where had it got her?

Single and not loving it. Her sex life was lived vicariously through erotic romance novels, craving an elusive something that would jolt her staid life; something like this crazy, exciting interlude to give her confidence a boost and ensure she could follow through on finding her perfect guy.

Staring into this guy’s amazing blue eyes, she wondered if maybe karma had delivered exactly what she needed.

Her throat tightened but she had to get the words out, had to take a chance for once. ‘I want to do this.’

Before her common sense kicked in, she placed her hand on his abs. Low enough to be suggestive. High enough he could end this now and walk away if he wanted to.

His low groan raised the fine hairs on her arms as he nudged her knees apart, stepped between them and slid his hands under her butt, sliding her towards him.

She gasped as he ground against her, hard and insistent, while his hands palmed her breasts. The softest whimper filled the air and through a hazy fog of want, she realised it had come from her.

She wrapped her legs around him and he responded by rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making her go a little crazy. She writhed against him, wanting more. He plucked at her nipples, sending a sizzle to her core.

If his touch felt so good with the stupid faux leather as a barrier, what would it feel like to be naked? She wanted to find out but he had other ideas.

‘Lie back,’ he said, placing a palm between her breasts and gently pushing. ‘Prop on your elbows so I can see you.’

The guys Charlotte had been with didn’t issue orders. They got the basics done without a word.

She liked being told what to do. Liked the gleam in his eyes when she did exactly as he wanted. She eased back until she rested on her elbows, uncertainty making her shiver as he hooked his thumbs under the elastic of the thong. He tugged gently, lowering it, leaving her naked and vulnerable.

She’d never felt so exposed. But her protest died on her lips as he locked gazes with her at the same time he slid a finger inside her.

Reverence widened his eyes, as if she’d bestowed a great gift on him, and her flutters of worry faded beneath his ministrations.

Another finger slipped inside her, rhythmically sliding in and out as his thumb circled her clitoris. Slow. Steady. He was driving her insane with the feel of him and the way he met her gaze. Uncompromising. Confident in his ability to satisfy her. Seeing her, really seeing her.

‘You are so frigging beautiful,’ he muttered, his tone barely above a growl, and she gritted her teeth to stop from groaning out loud as the pleasure built. She tensed her muscles and began spiralling out of control. She blanked her mind until all she could focus on was him. His touch. His fingers. His stare.

Her orgasm crashed over her, so strong, so unexpected, wiping her out. She couldn’t hold back, her yell loud and triumphant.

She expected to be swamped with mortification the second her body stopped pulsating. But nothing happened, other than a relentless yearning to do it all again.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured, sounding oddly formal.

‘You’re welcome.’ His smile widened as he reached down and unzipped. ‘If you want, there’s more where that came from.’

Charlotte’s jaw dropped open. She’d heard of the fabled internal orgasm but equated it to other fanciful, elusive things, like unicorns and fairies.

Apparently her mystery man believed in all things mystical and she watched in unabashed fascination as he unsnapped his trousers and pushed them down along with his jocks.

Showing her proof of exactly why he could be so confident.

Wowza. She might not have seen many erect penises but the ones she had made this one look like a giant. With a wicked-looking head.

She smiled at her joke and he quirked an eyebrow.

‘It doesn’t bode well that you take one look at me and want to laugh.’

A killer sense of humour and a big dick. She’d hit the jackpot. Ding, ding, ding.