Happy 2017 – may romance authors continue to give us heavy groins, twitching cocks, and scenes that make us immediately text our friends to share. Thank you authors!
Award for best oral sex: (We are going to start out strong and go right to a spoiler tag due to extreme naughtiness *wink*)
I give her my fingers next, add them to the pleasure. This is where you separate the boys from men. I’m not trying to stab her or play tease and touch with her cervix. Who wants to be nicknamed Jack the Pussy-Ripper? And I know my fingers will never be my cock, but I can create that full and fucked sensation.
Slow dips into her with two fingers—she’s wet enough—and then gently I push down. Her gasp-moan is followed with her arousal thickening around my fingers.
I can’t help it. I slide out of her to take a taste from my forefinger. Another. One more. I groan each time. She mutters, “Nasty fucker. Oh, God,” and I go for another. She coats my fingers and she’s delicious. I have to go back to the source. I put her on my tongue again.
Duke released her accosted nipple with a loud pop, then—sending her a look of pure debauchery—he licked at it. Once, twice, before reaching up and slapping the slight weight of her breast, hard enough to make it shake, hard enough to earn him a feminine gasp. “Are you going to let me get away with that?”
Duke actually pulled Samantha off the wall, turned, and rammed her up against the opposite hallway wall, simply to shock a gasp from her lips. Because he wanted to swallow it. Savor it. So he reared them back and did it again, grinding their lower bodies into the solid surface, until her legs began to quake around his hips.
Jesse turned away again, watching the couple on his bed. “Suck him,” Jesse said. “1B wants to watch.”
“Me too,” I breathed. He was tracing the edges of the mark he put on me. Over and over again until it was practically hypnotic. I was completely under his spell.
The van shifts as though we took a corner too fast. It feels dangerous in this van. Was I honestly just begging for sex? The phone wobbles, making the light strobe briefly over his cheekbone, his dark curls. He takes my wrists in one hand and pins them above my head, the way he always likes to do. He slides his other hand up my thigh.
He shoves my skirt up and cups me between my legs, hand strong and firm. He just holds me there, moving slightly with the careening van. Everything is falling out of my brain. I’m forgetting everything in the wake of the forbidden sensation of being held and controlled by him.
“Be reasonable? Fuck reasonable. I won’t be reasonable about you—not ever. That’s a promise.” Slowly he begins to slide and stroke. “Not ever.” He slides and strokes between my legs, and when he hits a certain momentum, I gasp. “You are so sensitive.”
“Damn it, Katya,” he grated, digging in his pocket to snag another condom. “I don’t want you to hurt.”
How he managed to put on a condom, hold me up, and kiss me at the same time, I’ll never know—but I felt the crown at my entrance.
When he inched inside, I had to stretch to take him, but it wasn’t like Monday night. No pain, just exquisite fullness as he sank ever deeper. Once he’d seated his cock as far as he could go, he seemed to force himself to go still. “Did I hurt you?”
“Then I want my cock covered in your wetness. I want to stir myself in it.” Only then did he draw his hips back, giving me a measured thrust.
His groin was so heavy, the seams of his briefs were digging into the weighed- down flesh. The ridge of his hard cock continued to nudge against Milo’s, drawing little catches of breath that were nothing short of addictive. “Do you want to feel that way again now?” Renner dragged a hand down Milo’s package, massaging it through the denim. “Or do you want to wait?”
“Tighter grip than you’re used to, isn’t it?” Renner breathed in his ear. “Have you been beating off the way you think it’s supposed to be done? Or the way you need it to be done?”
“Fuck.” Milo swayed, his free hand shooting out to balance him on the wall. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
He’d been holding back before. This kiss is the kiss of a pirate, plundering my mouth. He bends at the knees and whisks up my skirt, then shoves against my body, grinding his spit-slick cock against my bare belly. A new sound joins the muffled grunts and clack of teeth, the rasp of his pubic hair against my lace panties. We’re skin to skin and simulating sex, and I want him naked. Now.
Panting, I lift my chin and stand in nothing but my panties and my strappy heels while I loosen the noose of his tie and lift it over his head. He shoulders out of his shirt, helping me get him half-naked. He looks me over, that possessive glint back in his eyes. I experience a moment of disorientation so profound I wonder where I am. I want his hands on my body. Instead he reaches for the champagne bottle and opens it. He’s deft with the wire and foil, gets a grip on the protruding cork.
Gaze firmly locked with mine, he pops it open. Foam spills over his hand, then down his arm as he lifts the bottle. I catch on just in time, tip my head back to catch the champagne in my open mouth. The effervescent liquid spills over my chin and down my throat. I swallow, gasp, laugh.
The sound transforms into a shocked moan when he licks the bubbly froth coating my throat, my collarbone, my breasts and nipples. He retains enough presence of mind to set the bottle down on the floor beside him as he goes to his knees, tongue rapacious and sure on my body. I stare down at him, on his knees, cock out and flushed, trousers sagging on his hips, then I tip my head back and see nothing at all.
“You’ll keep still or I’ll stop. Don’t test me, Lucy, because I’m not kidding. I’m hard as hell for you, but I’ll walk away if you can’t behave. If you’re good, you’ll get a treat. And by treat, I mean a nice hard fuck against this door while the people we work with go about their business, not knowing I’ve got my cock buried inside your sweet, hot cunt.”
Lust. I’m pretty sure that’s what’s pushing against the containment of my body. Lust and want. I’m soaking wet, I know it. Who knew some dirty words in a semi-public place could turn my crank so freaking hard? And by the time his clever, time-taking fingers make it to my underwear, they’re going to be drenched. Maybe dripping. Do women actually get so wet and slick it coats the insides of their thighs? Because I might be. I shift slightly, and I can already feel how my lips slide against the slip of fabric between my thighs.
“Let me get this straight,” he drawls, all the while kneading the flesh of my butt. “You want me to fuck you, in a bathroom, where any one of your coworkers could wander by and maybe catch one of those breathy sex noises you make? What would they think, Lucy? If they knew? If they knew your marvelous tits were pressed hard up against the door and your legs were spread apart so I could work my hard cock into all the tight wetness I know is waiting for me under here?”
His finger skims along the thin strip of fabric, the only barrier to his touch. And it might not be there much longer, because it might disintegrate. That’s how soaked I am.
“I said big. You forgot big. Your big, hard cock. Evans, please. Fuck me, please. Fuck me with your big, hard cock.”
Owen’s green, polka-dotted bow tie was around his dick. Like a nerdy cock ring. And it was actually pretty fucking hot. Chad sat back on his heels, admiring his handiwork, then he lifted his gaze to Owen’s. He rose slowly to his feet, so he stood in the middle of Owen’s hands, which were braced on the wall. Chad then turned around and lowered his jeans.
Owen’s breath left his lungs in a whoosh. Commando. Chad was fucking commando. And his ass was perfection. Completely. Round and firm and begging for Owen to touch. To kiss. To lick.
Chad moved his feet apart as far as his pants at his knees would allow. He placed his hands on the wall inside Owen’s then looked over his shoulder. “I want you to fuck me like that.”
Owen might come right there. Just like that. Without touching his dick.Without touching Chad. Because the sight of his bow-tied cock rubbing along Chad’s perfect ass, that hazel gaze daring him…well, it was a little much.
“That’s what you were doing all those times? Wondering how it would feel to wrap your hands around my cock?”
She nods, her eyes shining with desire. “Sometimes I’d go home and just think about what it would be like to unbutton your jeans, slide my hands into your boxers, and feel you in my hand.”
Jesus Christ. Wildfire sparks in my veins, spreads through my blood and just fucking ignites me with more desire than I’ve ever felt in my life.
“Then find out,” I say, dragging her hands along the button, popping it open, and guiding her fingers down the zipper. “Do it. Touch my dick.”
Her eyes are hungry, as if she’s about to have her biggest fantasy come true. Same for me. I’m about to fuck my Natalie.
I push my briefs down, and when my cock springs free, Natalie’s eyes widen. Her mouth falls open. “I was right,” she whispers, and then opens her legs wider as she wraps a soft hand around my cock.