Authors: Abby Blake
By the time he broke the kiss, they were both breathing hard. But he had to slow down. If she came to him, he wanted it to be by choice, not because she felt she owed him. He pulled her closer against him and smoothed a hand through her curly hair.
“Whenever you need to scratch that itch,” he said deliberately, trying to disentangle his emotions from the idea, “you just let me know.”
She nodded but then stepped out of his arms, and he mourned the loss of her warmth.
* * * *
Confused as hell by her own longings, Mikayla took another step away and then turned back to the filing cabinet. She hadn’t really meant to start this conversation, but the dark words Matt had growled in the lab still sent tingles through her body.
Perhaps the weirdest part of all of this was that she trusted the brothers—all of them, even the two she still had yet to meet—and that was translating to physical desire. Strange how the idea of working as a whore for these men hadn’t seemed at all abhorrent but the idea of sex with strangers at the club had filled her with dread. If she hadn’t been so desperate, she never would have considered the idea, but now she was grateful that her actions had led her here.
She hadn’t had sex in quite a while. Jet had told her he loved her and respected her and had treated her like a princess until he’d dumped her on this planet. They’d had sex, but after the first few clumsy attempts, Jet had declared her inadequate and avoided sex with her from then on. She’d tried to not think about the man, but in hindsight she could see quite a few inconsistencies in his behavior. In fact, his actions seemed more like those of a man trying to maneuver her out of the picture.
Jet had literally swept her off her feet—and her home planet—within weeks of their first meeting. He’d asked her to marry him, promised her a bright future, and then abandoned her on this fucked-up planet without money or transport. She’d been so hurt by his actions that she hadn’t really considered that he’d probably never felt anything for her in the first place.
Which would suggest what? That someone hadn’t wanted her around?
She shook her head at the ridiculousness of that thought. She was just an administrative assistant, nobody special, so getting dragged into some sort of conspiracy theory was very unlikely. Maybe it was just what it seemed—a selfish man who changed his mind.
She tried to release the anger that thoughts of Jet and his actions sent through her. Somehow, everything that had happened had bought her here, and for that, she was grateful. She glanced over at John. He’d gone back to his desk, but judging by his rigid stillness, he wasn’t having much luck concentrating. She’d felt his hard cock pressed against her belly when he’d cuddled her before, and wicked ideas started to bounce through her head. She’d never actually given a blow job before.
“John.” He looked up and smiled, but he shifted in his seat awkwardly, and she suspected that his cock was still hard. His gaze darted around the room, not really avoiding hers but not really meeting it, either. “Can you teach me how you like your cock sucked?”
That got his full attention. His eyes flared and seemed to grow darker, but he smiled and said casually, “Sure, one day.”
“Today?” she asked as she stepped closer to the desk.
He moved his chair back so quickly he banged his knee, but when he got to his feet it was to step away from her.
“Princess,” he said in a warning tone of voice, “Matt wasn’t exaggerating when he said I like it rough. You need to be really sure this is what you want.”
In answer, she simply lifted the T-shirt over her head and stood before him naked.
“I’m sure,” she said when he still didn’t move. “I want to learn what pleases you.”
He closed his eyes, seemed to count to ten, and then stepped toward her. “As long as I get to return the favor,” he said as he gathered her into his arms.
Already, her nipples were beaded with desire, and she gasped as the stiff peaks brushed against the soft material of his shirt.
“Me first,” he said as he lifted her onto the edge of his desk. “Lie back, princess. I want to taste this pussy.”
Heat pulsed to her core, and her legs fell open in invitation. He knelt in front of her and pressed her thighs open wider. She could already feel her cream coating her hairless folds. He held her legs hard against the desk, lowered his head, and swiped his tongue up and down her slit.
She moaned at the warm, wet, glide and gasped as he licked around her clit. She could barely breathe as he used his fingers to open her lips wider and then thrust his tongue deep into her sensitive flesh.
Over and over, his tongue delved into her pussy, his fingers toying with the swollen bundle of nerves that throbbed in time with his thrusts. He licked everywhere, swirling his tongue around and around until she was close to screaming. Overwhelmed, she tried to push his head away, but he hummed against her skin, pinned her hands in one of his own, and then pushed her over that invisible edge. Her orgasm ripped through her, every muscle squeezing and pulsing as her pussy walls fluttered against his tongue.
He soothed her with gentle hands and long, slow licks against her labia. Eventually, the storm inside her passed, and she lay exhausted across his desk.
“Princess,” he said as he stood and then leaned over her to kiss her mouth, “you are delicious and very, very addictive. I think I’m going to want to do that quite often.”
She laughed at his silly grin and let him help her up. But instead of letting her stand, he pulled her onto his lap. She cuddled into him for several minutes, but soon her need to give him pleasure had her climbing off him.
She stood before him, wondering what she should do next, but he seemed to understand her dilemma. He levered out of his chair then stripped off his clothing. His cock stood long and proud between them, and her mouth watered at just the idea of tasting him.
“On your knees,” he whispered. She quickly complied. With a gentle hand, he lifted her chin so that she looked up at him. “I don’t want to frighten you. If things get too intense, I need you to squeeze hard right here.”
He lifted her hand to his balls, and she cupped them gently. She didn’t like the idea, and he must’ve read it on her face because he shook his head and said, “This is the only way. If I get too intense or I’m hurting you, it may be the only way to get my attention.” She swallowed nervously but nodded her head, determined to give him whatever he needed. “You don’t have to do this,” he said again. But he read her emotions correctly because he smiled, shook his head, and said, “Okay, we’ll start slow.”
He put a hand either side of her face, gently touching her lips with his thumbs. With exquisite care, he pressed first one and then the other thumb into her mouth. She ran her tongue over the invading digits and tried to smile at the expression on his face.
He ran the rough skin of his thumbs over her teeth, the sensation strangely intimate. He watched her closely, his eyes never leaving hers as he angled his body and slid the head of his cock over her lips.
“Open for me,” he ordered in a deep voice.
She opened her mouth as wide as she could, his thumbs pressing against her jaw, forcing her wider still. His cock slid into her mouth, massaging the roof as he slid back and forth in shallow pumps. Each time, he slid a little deeper, and she suctioned her lips around him to hold him there.
But he withdrew completely, running his slickened cock against her lips once more. Still holding her jaw, he again massaged her inner mouth with his thumbs, and she swallowed around the intrusion. His eyes darkened even more, and he pushed the head of his cock back into her mouth. She licked the pre-cum from his slit, rolling his unique taste on her tongue.
He groaned and slid deeper into her mouth. His hands gripped either side of her head as he slid farther still and hit the back of her throat. She gagged, but he held her immobile. She pushed against his thighs, struggling to breathe, starting to panic.
“Swallow,” he demanded, and she tried hard to concentrate on doing what he asked. Finally, she managed to swallow, the action allowing his cock even farther down her throat.
“Good,” he said as he slid out and then surged back in. “Again,” he commanded, and this time, she did it a little easier. He smiled and repeated the action.
Slowly, back and forth, deeper and deeper, he fucked her mouth. He held her head captured, not letting her retreat. She braced herself against his thighs and relaxed her throat further. He groaned as he slid deep and stayed there.
“Okay?” he asked, using his thumbs to smooth her hair from her eyes. She nodded as best she could around his invading cock. He smiled and then whispered, “Hang on.”
He pulled out and thrust back in quickly. She nearly gagged, but he withdrew fast and did it again. In and out, he pounded into her mouth, giving her no quarter, no reprieve. She swallowed again and again, shaking with her own desire. Giving him pleasure this way was indescribable. Even held tight in his grip, she felt powerful, in control.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered, and she lowered her hand to her clit without hesitation. She pressed against the swollen flesh, amazed to realize she was on the verge of another intense climax. Mikayla shivered as he thrust into her one last time.
“Swallow,” he said breathlessly as his cum hit her tongue and slid down her throat.
She moaned at his salty taste, licking his cock clean and still pressing hard against her clit.
He pulled from her mouth, dropped to his knees, covered her hand with his own, and forced her body into orgasm. She moaned as heat flooded every nerve ending, and her knees and hips collapsed. But John was there to hold her up, gathering her into his embrace and kissing the top of her head.
“Princess,” he said on a panting breath, “that was incredible.”
She nodded in mute agreement.
Chapter Seven
Dinner was an interesting affair. Apparently, all of the brothers gathered for the evening meal each day. Brock and Lachlan had been delayed by the storm and probably wouldn’t make it home for more than another week, but even with only five of them, it was a noisy meal.
They laughed and joked with each other. The camaraderie and respect between them was very obvious, and it was quite a pleasant experience for Mikayla just to watch the five of them enjoy their meal. Soon, talk turned to her sleeping arrangements. They were good-naturedly trying to outmaneuver each other by pleading their individual cases for why she should spend the night in their beds when John explained the events of the day.
“Administrative assistant? Finally,” Ryan said happily, “John really needs somebody to get him organized.”
Matt looked relieved, pleased, and pissed all at once, and she couldn’t even begin to fathom why. He was the one who didn’t want her to stay on as a whore, so why was he pissed at her now?
She tried to make eye contact with him, but he kept glancing away. Uncertain whether to confront him in front of everyone else, she hesitated, but he took the decision out of her hands.
“I apologize for my behavior this morning,” he said stiffly. All eyes turned first to him and then to her. She didn’t know what to say. As far as she was concerned, he had nothing to apologize for. “I’m very sorry, and it won’t happen again.”
He didn’t look at anyone as he rose and left the room, and her eyes sought John’s, silently seeking his counsel.
“Go after him,” he said with a smile. “He just needs a little convincing.”
She smiled a little wider when she saw the twins’ surprised looks. She winked at them both, tried to ignore Peter’s indifference, and hurried out the door.
* * * *
Matt felt sick. He’d practically forced himself on Mikayla this morning. God, he was such an insensitive ass. He hadn’t even thought about offering her some other type of work. Maybe he’d been on this fucked-up planet too long because it hadn’t even occurred to him that women were capable of something more than prostitution.
Embarrassment burned through him when he thought of how his mothers would react to that.
Shit!
He had almost made it to his bedroom when she came running down the hallway.
“Matt,” she said as she got closer and slowed to a walk, “I think we need to talk.”
She smiled at him kindly, and his heart twisted just a little bit tighter. God, why wasn’t she seething with anger over what he’d done? He didn’t deserve forgiveness, so why was she even talking to him?
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “If I could take it back, I would.”