When the pressure building in my cock, in my balls, grew to a deep ache, I took over. I brought a hand to the back of her head and began to guide her. I brought her head down hard, then up again for a moment, then down again to take in the whole length of my giant cock.
Eyes wide, she worked hard to take me all in, but I was huge. It took a lot of effort to suck in every inch of me. My eyes glazed, panting, I watched her, my erection solid, wide and glistening.
“Suck it,” I commanded and she did as she was told, squeezing my length in the wet heat of her mouth and throat. I dug my fingers into her ponytail, rough with need as I forced her down onto me. Her erect, clamped nipples grazed my inner thigh, her high heels stuck out as she knelt between my legs.
I could feel myself getting close, the tension building, my shaft growing to a giant length in Kara’s mouth. Slick, sucking hard, she worked me as I guided her, taking me in full, deep, worshipping my cock.
She looked up at me, her gorgeous blue eyes half-closed in pleasure as she sucked hard and brought me into her. I locked eyes with her.
“I’m going to come,” I groaned. Then I exploded so hard I nearly blacked out, thrusting down her throat, pumping all of my seed deep into her, my hand fisted tight into her ponytail.
“Kara,” I called out, torn up by the sight of her taking me all in, sucking every last drop, swallowing my entire load. I collapsed back onto the sofa, panting, shocked with the intensity of it. Kara slowly drew back her mouth, then licked my tip, savoring her last taste.
“Fuck,” I panted. I pulled her onto my lap and wrapped both large arms around her, encircling her tight against my chest. My heart pounded and she nestled into me. I breathed her in, inhaling her scent, the softness of her hair, the feel of her so right, so lush and pliant against my hardness. I brought my fingers down to her glistening sex.
“Did that make you wet, my Kara?” She nodded against my chest, her hand against me. I could feel my erection, still pulsing. Damn, I was still hard, even after that mind-blowing blow job. I still throbbed with desire for her. How did she do that to me?
She became aware of me as well, glancing down, her plump lips parted slightly. Those lips that had taken me in, wrapped glistening around my length, sucking me, worshiping me. I brought my mouth to hers in a demanding, possessive kiss, my tongue caressing her, stoking her fires. She leaned in to me, tilting her head up and bringing her palms to my rock hard chest. With trembling, urgent fingers, she began fumbling with the top button of my shirt.
With a growl, I leaned back a few inches and pulled my shirt up over my head. Her eyes widened at the sight of my muscled, tattooed chest. I wanted to give her time, let her explore every inch of me, but not just now. Now I needed to bury my cock deep inside her wet, waiting pussy. Bringing a hand to her knees, I tore her panties away and she gasped.
“I need to be inside you.” Grasping both of her hips in my large hands, I positioned her over me. I ground her down hard and full onto my huge, erect cock. Her sex dripped, taking me in deep as I filled her. She screamed and collapsed against me, grinding down with need even in her surprise. I held on tight to her hips, thrusting deep into her wetness, stretching her pussy so tight and hot around me.
Wanton and wild, Kara began to move, bucking against me, following my rhythm and matching it with her own. I brought my hands to her ass, grabbing on to her cheeks as she started to ride me. She drew up, palms against my solid chest. She rocked and moaned with my thrusts.
“Ride me,” I commanded. “I want to see you wild.” She moaned and began moving faster. Grinding harder against me, she took every steel inch of me into her wet, slippery depths, again and again. Her eyes closed and her tits bounced as she worked, a glistening sheen of sweat forming over her naked body.
“That’s it,” I murmured. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything better as she moved with abandon, needy and crazed with lust. I fucked her hard, and she braced herself against my chest, arching her back and angling her pussy down around me. She grunted, taking as much of me as she gave of herself, needing this every bit as much as I did, slick and fast and dirty.
“Yes,” she cried out. Moaning, grinding on me, I could feel her desire mounting, feel her tensing around me.
I reached out and suddenly freed a nipple from its restraint. As the blood rushed back in, flooding her with sensation, she screamed and I took her into my mouth, my wet heat kissing, sucking and lapping at her. I freed the other, bucking into her, fingers hard into her ass cheeks as I sucked her sensitive nipple into my mouth.
She was so close, shuddering and quaking against me, around me. I growled in her ear, “Come for me.” Instantly, she shattered, undone, screaming as an orgasm ripped through her body. Shuddering, her pussy throbbed and squeezed around my cock. It brought me to the brink and I came deep inside of her, thrust after thrust shooting my come deep inside and filling her completely.
Panting, sweaty, Kara collapsed against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, hands up along her back. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, nestling into me, naked and wonton and satisfied. I couldn’t imagine anything better.
CHAPTER 3
Kara
“What’s frisée?” I whispered to Declan, looking up from a large, linen menu.
“Rich people’s lettuce,” he whispered back, conspiratorial.
“How about endive?”
He nodded. “Escarole, arugula, radicchio. It’s all salad.”
I cracked up. He’d taken me to a rooftop garden restaurant on the Upper East Side for brunch, our first day in New York City. Wisteria and lavender, crystal and china, this place was right out of a storybook. Without Declan, I would have felt like a servant snuck into the master’s quarters, about to be kicked out at any moment for using the wrong fork. With Declan, it felt like we were both in on the same joke and I loved every second of it.
Last night when we’d arrived late I’d been blown away. New York City. So far it hadn’t disappointed a bit. The hotel Declan had us staying in was so over-the-top it ought to be arrested for trying to impersonate Buckingham Palace. We’d rolled up in our limo to manicured shrubs in ornate planters and a lit awning with what looked like a royal crest emblazoned upon it. One man in a red jacket with golden epaulets and matching cap had rushed to open the door. Another hustled to the trunk to begin removing our luggage while yet another stood at the ready should I need assistance exiting the vehicle.
The entryway stairs were covered in red carpet. The elegant foyer had 50-foot high ceilings with marble and gold inlay and a crystal chandelier the size of a blue ribbon cow at the county fair. Declan had stayed as cool as James Bond at a casino table. We weren’t just tourists, we were VIP guests. He’d done some business with the owners. He’d led me up past more golden cherubs than I could count into a hotel suite with 10-foot tall windows and plush red velvet drapes framing a breathtaking view of New York City at night.
The view from the rooftop restaurant was incredible, too. The greenery of Central Park was framed by an impossibly packed, high wall of buildings. We enjoyed our brunch—a light salad for me, something seasonal and sustainably-raised for him which basically ended up being bacon and eggs. He entertained me talking about everything we could see in the city, 5th Avenue, Soho and Times Square which apparently was all cleaned up, not that I had much with which to compare it.
“Now, you have to play it cool, Kara,” Declan whispered from across the table. Then he nodded his head slightly to the left. “Nine o’clock.”
I looked over and saw a woman in a gigantic picture hat and sunglasses. You couldn’t see much of her face. She looked slender and pale next to an eager older man.
“Star of that new hit Netflix series,” he informed me.
“How do you know?”
Declan shrugged. “There are always celebrities around here. But in New York, you can’t look, can’t react. It’s all got to be on the down low.”
The patrons seated around me were like
no people I’d ever seen before. The women seriously looked like large heads on top of skeletons. I’d never been that self-conscious about my body, not overweight seemed good enough. These women made me look like an overfed farm animal. But in my world, most of them wouldn’t even pass inspection with their bones sticking out like that. None of them looked like they’d make it through the winter.
“Do these women eat anything?” I whispered again, using the giant menu to partially hide my lips.
“I think it’s mostly frisée,” Declan agreed. “And gin and tonics.”
Next to me, I couldn’t stop glancing at a woman with perfectly clear, smooth skin, her blonde hair in a bun without a strand out of place. Both her skin and her hair were pulled up and back, tight. On a Tuesday morning in June she wore a midnight black wool Chanel suit, nylons and pumps. She might both weigh and be 95. I tried not to gawk, but I’d never seen anything like her.
“I think you’re safe,” Declan whispered over to me, seeing my fascination. “She only drinks virgin’s blood. And we know you’re not that.”
I would have balled up my napkin and thrown it at him, but I guessed this was the kind of place that didn’t cotton to that kind of juvenile behavior. I scrunched up my nose at him instead.
Looking around, I had to admit that I felt a moment of doubt. I definitely hadn’t gotten the color memo. “I should have bought more black clothes,” I murmured.
Declan dismissed my worry with a big hand. “Just be yourself.”
I laughed, easy for him to say, Mr. Big now with his real estate empire. I was still just a rancher from Montana.
“I’m serious,” Declan continued. “Here’s the secret: never let them make you feel less-than. You’re not. In fact, they want what you have.”
“What’s that?”
“Open air. Free range. There’s nothing like the feel up on a Montana ranch.”
“I didn’t know you still felt that way.”