Colt lightly sank his teeth into the tattoo on her right butt cheek. He flicked his tongue around the design. Then he let his tongue lead the way to the left butt cheek, and he briefly lapped at the crack of her ass. Another bite. More licking.
Her whole body shook. “Oh God, Colt. I’m—”
His lips were on her ear. “You took your licks like a good girl.”
“I thought by ‘licks’ you were going to spank me.”
“Would you like that?”
Yes. But India bit her lip instead of confessing.
A beat passed, then whack whack on each of her butt cheeks.
“Yes, okay? I’ve always wondered what it’d be like, not that I’ve ever let a man spank me because of some of that crap from my past, but I trust you not to take it too far.”
“Good answer, sugar. Another time we’ll explore that secret kink. With a paddle. Maybe a ridin’ crop. Definitely my hand.”
“It is punishment not to lick you where you most want my tongue, bad girl.” He nuzzled the back of her head. “I should fuck you and not let you come, since you already got off tonight without me, but makin’ you come gets me off. Lower your chest to the mattress and leave your ass in the air.”
She set the side of her face on the bed and stretched her arms above her head.
“Brace yourself.” Colt kneed her stance wider, tilted her hips and plunged in. His withdrawal was fast. His returning stroke was fast. As fast and hard as he liked.
His selfishness shouldn’t be a turn-on, but it was. Normally he was an incredibly generous lover. India closed her eyes and let his need wash over her.
Slam. Slam. Slam. Slam. Slam. The slap of his skin against hers as she listened to his choppy breathing had her clenching around his cock. That familiar pulsing sensation rippled through her deepest tissues, sending her straight over the edge into a short orgasm.
Colt’s hips pistoned faster. His fingers squeezed her ass and he began to come. “Fuck. Fuck.”
India craved that burst of male heat inside her, not trapped in a condom. She wanted to stand up and see his seed trickling out of her sated and swollen sex.
“God, woman, the things you do to me.”
After he pulled out, India collapsed on the bed. Vaguely she heard the toilet flush. The rustle of his clothes. Then his yummy scent surrounded her.
“Mmm. Can you stay and punish me some more since I tricked you?”
“No.” He kissed the tattoo between her shoulder blades and tucked the covers under her chin.
“Next time, if you’re missin’ me just ask me to come over, okay? Because if it happens again, I will spank your ass good and red for pickin’ a fight. Sweet dreams.”
Lovers Week Three
“Oh yeah, baby, right there.”
“Colt, will you shut up?” India hissed.
“Can’t. It feels too goddamn good.”
“People are staring at us.”
“Let ’em. Harder.” He arched his neck. “Like that. Goddamn you’ve got magic fingers, Indy.”
“That’s it. I’m done.”
“No! Please. Don’t stop.”
India wrapped her hands around the shopping cart handle and pushed to the frozen food section.
Within thirty seconds Colt came up behind her, curling his hands and his body over hers. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t ever ask me to rub your neck in the grocery store again.”
“Why? It wasn’t like you had your hand on my dick.”
“I might as well have with the ‘oh baby’ porn noises you were grunting.”
He nipped her earlobe and licked the sting, brushing his lips to the center of her ear. “And to think I didn’t utter a sound last night when you gave me a handjob at the movies.”
“It was hot as hell, havin’ your buttery fingers strokin’ my cock. I had to clench my ass cheeks together when your thumb rubbed the sweet spot below the head. I was so fuckin’ hard, India.
You did that to me. You do that to me.”
And she thought he’d lost his sweet-talkin’ ability. The man could make her wet and weak-kneed with just words.
He blew in her ear. “I think I behaved admirably by not shoutin’ out your name when I came all over your hand. I think I oughta be rewarded.”
“You were rewarded.”
“Hmm. Maybe I oughta reward you.”
“You fulfilled one of my fantasies, so turnabout is fair play.
Tell me, sugar, what’s one of your unfulfilled fantasies?”
“The first one that pops to mind?”
“I’m with a man, who has a really big—”
“Indy,” he warned.
“Kitchen. A man who knows the difference between simmer and burn, a man who can whip and stir, steam and cream. A man who keeps his promises of heating things up.”
“I get it. I’ll teach you to cook. But you so aren’t getting any cock…tail shrimp tonight, if you waste all that dirty talk in the grocery store.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. There’s plenty more where that came from.”
“That’s what I’m countin’ on.”
Three days later, India was cleaning up the kitchen at Colt’s house, when he shouted from the living room, “Indy, you okay?”
“Almost done. You need anything?”
“I’d take a soda if you’re offerin’.”
India wrapped tinfoil around the leftover pieces of her first chicken dinner and shoved the plate on the shelf in the refrigerator.
As she reached for a Diet Pepsi, she accidentally knocked over the can of whipped cream from the back.
The laugh track from the TV echoed. She vigorously shook the can and kept it behind her back, hiding it behind his recliner after she entered the living room.
Colt glanced up and bestowed the wicked grin that was hers alone. Cheeky man.
India leaned over and set the soda on the end table. As she straightened up, he snagged the ends of the dishtowel draped around her neck and hauled her on his lap.
He swallowed her tiny shriek with a kiss heavy on seduction.
She found herself plastered to him as he lowered the recliner completely horizontal.
“Mmm,” he murmured against her throat, “much better.”
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t you want to mess around?” He brushed warm kisses across her lips. “Because I could kiss you for hours. Here,” he briefly let their lips connect, then nibbled a path to her ear, “and other places.”
“What other places?”
“Lemme think. Right here.” He opened his mouth where her neck curved into her shoulder and sucked until she whimpered.
“And here.” That agile tongue circled the hollow of her throat and rained wet kisses down to the top button of her shirt.
“Oh yeah.” His deft fingers began to unbutton her blouse. He didn’t say a word until the material flapped open to reveal she wasn’t wearing a bra. He groaned and filled his hands with her breasts. Squeezing, rasping his thumbs over the nipples until they contracted into tight, aching points beneath the hoops.
Colt watched her face as he touched her. Gauging her reaction to better torture her next time. She let him think he was in charge, but she couldn’t stop a smirk from forming.
“Why the devious smile, India Blue?”
“No reason. I thought you were gonna show me all the places you’d like to kiss me and your mouth is nowhere near where I want it to be.”
“You’re so impatient.”
She slid his palms down her ribcage to her hips and shimmied closer, letting her bare breasts sway in front of his lips. She eased back when his tongue flicked out to swipe at a hardened nipple. “Or maybe you need an incentive.”
Without waiting for his response, India leaned over and grabbed the can. She sat up and squirted a dollop of whipped cream on her left nipple.
Colt’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“Put your mouth on me, Colt. Lick me, suck me. Show me how you wanted to kiss me.”
The mechanism in the recliner went sproing as it snapped back into a chair.
Then he was upright with his lips pursed around her nipple, sucking off the sweet white stuff like a vacuum. Opening his mouth wider and wider until he seemed to suck her whole breast inside.
The cold spot from the whipped cream evaporated in his heated, hungry mouth. She arched into him, grinding into his cock, her blood pumping in cadence with him drawing her nipple in and out.
He snatched the can, tipped it upside down and sprayed a thick mound on her right nipple. This time he licked a tiny swath until just the pink tip poked out.
Slowly. Round and round. A measured lick here and there. His tongue started at the bottom swell of her breast, flattened around the sides, tapered to a fine point over her breastbone. As the circle grew smaller and smaller, he went slower and slower. He zeroed in on the rigid aching nipple, letting his tongue toy with the hoop, while his right thumb lightly feathered the skin above the waistband of her jeans, causing her belly to tremble.
When he’d lapped up every drop, he sank his teeth into her sticky flesh, toeing that fine line between pleasure and pain, knowing just how much pressure she could stand.
White-hot desire lanced through her.
She’d been rocking the seam of her jeans, which was directly in line with her clit, against the hardest part of him. The instant his teeth and tongue and hands and mouth came together, the throbbing between her legs synchronized and ignited an orgasm that left her gasping.
Once the ringing in her ears stopped, India realized the growling noise vibrating against her throat sounded suspiciously like a satisfied male chuckle.
Hey. How’d she get off…track? She’d meant to tease him.