Tamara's Conquest Read online

  But her mouth was still hungry for him and she plunged forward, meeting him as he thrust up. At the same moment, he unexpectedly stopped his hand, doing nothing but pressing upward against her entrance, against her clit. The sudden pressure shattered her. She screamed her orgasm around his cock, her body shuddering and shivering and reveling in the waves of pure, hot pleasure. His hand stayed where it was, holding her ruthlessly in place, so that her mouth had to keep on riding his cock through the whole long incredible orgasm.

  “That’s it, that’s it, my beauty,” he moaned. “You feel so good like this.”

  She was panting. She had all her weight on her elbows, but they were shaking. Her lips brushed the burning side of his shaft. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. She could only shake from the strength of the pleasure storm that had wracked her.

  Gently, Brendan took her into his arms and laid her down on the pillows. Softly, he kissed her mouth, stroked her breasts, soothing her trembling pussy with tender caresses. He kissed her again, his tongue gently tasting all the places she had so recently filled with his cock. She was floating, buoyed up by pleasure. She could feel the burning press of his cock against her thigh, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She was too far away.

  He shifted again, his hands firmly parting her thighs. He dipped his fingers into her, rotating gently and smiling to feel how loose she was.

  “Brendan,” she murmured, shifting restlessly.

  “Shhhh,” he whispered, stroking her folds. “Don’t worry, my lover. I’ll bring you back.”

  He lifted her legs, settling them one at a time around his waist so he could kneel between her thighs. She groaned, half in exhaustion, half in anticipation. She knew he needed his own release. She wanted to give it to him, but her pussy was exhausted. She felt heavy, overfed on pleasure.

  Above her, Brendan finished putting on a condom. Then, grasping himself firmly, he guided his cock toward her pussy.

  And he touched the tip of his sheathed cock right on top of her clit. It tickled. Tamara giggled and squirmed.

  “Ahh, there you are,” murmured Brendan. He moved his cock, rubbing her clit in tiny little circles. His free hand stroked her thigh. “I knew you were still with me.”

  Apparently she was. Delight swam upstream against the current of her honeyed lassitude, lightening her limbs and quickening her pulse. Her eyes fluttered fully open and she met Brendan’s shining gaze. For a moment they stayed like that, the tip of his cock pressing against her clit, their eyes drinking each other in. She began to pant, not just from the intensifying pleasure of the persistent pressure on her most sensitive spot, but from the sight of this amazing man she held between her legs.

  She wanted him inside her again. Her thighs moved, stroking his hips. Her pussy that had been so dull a moment before opened again. Her clit throbbed beneath his blunt tip.

  His smile lit the darkness. He drew his cock down through her folds until he reached her entrance. Then, still keeping his gaze locked with hers, he thrust forward. Tamara moaned and rocked her hips up as he slid smoothly home into her silken heat. God, he felt good inside her. Tamara wrapped arms and legs tight around him, arching her back so that her breasts brushed against his chest. Her pussy clenched around him, urging him deeper.

  “Oh, yes.” He captured her mouth in a kiss, then Brendan took his weight on his elbows and began to move in short, steady thrusts. Tamara groaned and let her head fall back.

  “Look at me,” he ordered.

  Surprised, Tamara opened her eyes. His eyes had gone dark, a smoky, dangerous green that was entirely different from that initial bright emerald.

  “I want you watching me. I want to see your eyes when you come again.”

  She tried to comply, but it was difficult. His expression was so intense, all the power of his body made visible in his wide eyes. There was a wildness there, held barely in check. She wanted to be the one who stole this last restraint from him, wanted to feel what it would be like when he shattered. She caressed his thighs with hers, her hips rocked up hard to meet him. She was playing with fire, she knew it, but her power with this man redoubled the pleasure swirling through her body. He was moving fast now, driving deep into her. Her own control was gone, carried away in the strengthening current of delight that stemmed from his thrusts. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open. His fierce gaze pinned her, made her writhe. His cock hammered her and she only opened wider to him. Her pussy stretched to its limits to let in all that hard strength and then contracted down to embrace his length.

  It couldn’t last. She was gasping, breathless with her excitement. It couldn’t last, and yet he didn’t stop. “Oh God, Brendan!”

  He planted his hands on either side of her head, driving himself down deep into her. “Come for me, Tamara,” he ordered. “Show me how hard you can come for me.”

  She threw her head back unable to stand the heat of his gaze, but he caught her face, pulling her chin down, forcing her to look at him and she saw what she wanted—the wildness laid bare, the control gone, stripped away by her mouth, her pussy, the power of what they made between them. That power surged through her, spiking a reckless joy at the core of her soul. He drove himself into her, unable to stop. Her hips slammed up against him one more time, and Tamara exploded, wave after wave overwhelming the whole of her body. The frantic caress of her orgasm drove him faster and faster until at last Brendan too broke and threw back his head, shouting out her name as the tide of his climax surged over them.

  * * *

  “Tell me something,” Brendan murmured.

  They had both dozed, woken again, crawled under the covers and now lay in each other’s arms. Tamara didn’t want to stop touching him. She felt like she could spend forever memorizing this body. If this was love, it was terrific.

  It was odd though, because love was supposed to make you blind, but Tamara felt like she saw Brendan more clearly. His skin was not the even tan she’d initially thought, but was splotched and freckled and scarred, making her think of a man who spent most of his time outdoors. The lines on his face dragged hard at his expression. There was silver in his long, fair hair, and a silver ring on his hand that she had not even felt before in all their frantic, amazing caressing. It was as if she was getting her first look at the real man, and she liked what she saw. He was warm and real and intensely human. He was someone she could talk to and spend time with.

  She realized with an odd pang that she hoped this tenderness was love. If it was infatuation, it would just go away and she wanted to keep it, keep him. She wanted to talk with him and laugh with him. She wanted to know where he’d been and where he wanted to go. She wanted so many things her heart swelled with wanting. But most of all, she wanted to find out he felt the same about her.

  Tamara snuggled closer. “Anything in particular?”

  “What were you looking for in that club?” His face had turned serious but she saw nothing smug or pitying there.

  She kissed him gently, hoping to bring some light back to his eyes. “I could say I was looking for you.”

  “Would it be true?” He ran the back of one hand down her arm.

  She shrugged. “In a way. I was looking for someone to share tonight with, someone to make love with.” That had been exactly what she wanted. She wasn’t going to lie about it. But how could she explain things had changed? She’d probably scare him to death, declaring love after two fucks and a blow job, even if they were utterly amazing fucks and, if she did say so herself, a truly superior blow job.

  “That simple?”

  It was, at first. But her mouth dried up and she couldn’t say those words. “Why shouldn’t it be?”

  “Some people would say it’s a terrible way to try to find love.”

  Tamara started at his use of the word, but quickly covered with a laugh. “Now you sound like my roo
mmate. I do not go clubbing to find love.” She held his gaze while she said it. Look inside Brendan. See what I mean. “I’m patient, I’ve got a good life, my own money, a job that I like, that lets me travel. I’ve got good friends and family who are there for me. I can wait for this thing called ‘true love.’”

  “You sound like you don’t believe in it.”

  Damn. She shrugged, trying to remain casual. “I believe in it. What I don’t believe in is making myself lonely and miserable waiting around for it. I’ll leave that to Allysa.”

  “Who’s Allysa?”

  “My roommate, who is good people, pays her rent on time, never eats my carryout, but she’s so consumed with waiting for true love, I’m afraid she’s walling herself off from it.” She shook her head, and then pushed her hair back. “She shouldn’t be here. This city isn’t good for some people.” She looked up at him. Time to change the subject. “Your turn. What were you doing in that club?”

  He fingered the ends of her hair. “What if I said I was looking for you?”

  I’d say yes, Brendan. “I’d say that’s a very old line.”

  He smiled ruefully. “I guess it is.” The smile faded quickly, showing her again how deeply etched the lines around his mouth were. Dark rings circled those smoky eyes too, as if he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in far too long.

  “What’s the matter?”

  He sighed, obviously firmly shutting something behind very strong doors inside himself. “Sorry. Nothing to do with present company, I assure you.”

  “Not suddenly thinking about the wife and kids back in Omaha or something?” She struggled to keep a joking tone. “Or how it’s time to axe murder me?”

  He examined her through half-lidded eyes. “You sound like you’d be less upset about the axe murder than the wife.”

  “It’ll be easier to explain to the cops why I had to beat an axe murderer bloody.”

  He smiled, and the light of it chased some of the shadows from his eyes. “I don’t have my axe here, and I have no wife.” The smile and light snuffed out. “Not now, anyway.”

  Which could explain a lot. “Bad divorce?”

  “No.” His thumb rubbed at the band of the silver ring on his right hand. “She’s dead.”

  Tamara closed her eyes briefly. “I am sorry.”

  “Thank you.” He ran his hand down her back, a smooth, firm caress. “Some might consider that your cue to kiss me, to show your sympathy.”

  “Mmmm . . . I suppose.” She rolled over onto her back and pillowed her head in her hands while she stared up at the ceiling. “But what’s my motivation?”

  “Oho,” Brendan said softly. “I’ve a prima donna on my hands.” He cupped her right breast, circling his thumb around her aureole. Her nipple hardened at once, and her pussy contracted slowly. But Tamara just closed her eyes.

  “I don’t know,” she sighed. “I’m just not feeling it.”

  “Then, perhaps, Miss Cohan, you’d show us how you would approach this scene.” He lifted his hand away.

  Tamara opened her eyes. Brendan sat back against the headboard, arms folded, green eyes flashing in challenge. His beautiful cock was just beginning to harden. The sight set her pussy watering, and her imagination working. He liked looking? Well, she’d give him something worth looking at.

  She glanced around the room, searching for inspiration and a flash of color caught her eye. Like in the living room, the mantel above the fireplace held a set of glass ornaments; mostly spherical paperweights filled with swirls of colored glass.

  Perfect.

  “Well.” She slipped out of bed and smiled when his face creased with confusion. “I think.” She crossed to the mantel and selected a glass sphere about the size of an apple and filled with spirals of gold and emerald green. It lay cool in her palm, reminding her of the balcony door that held her up while Brendan had sucked her. “This part requires an unsubtle interpretation.” She resettled herself at the foot of the bed. Brendan’s breath came fast and shallow as he realized what she meant to do. She held up the glass sphere, and with her free hand, she stroked her breast. His gaze heated, and all that heat poured straight into her. Slowly, she took her cool sphere and stroked it up and down between her breasts. Its smooth curves sent shivers down her spine, arousing her curiosity and much more than that. She drew it down her belly, plumping and massaging her breast with her free hand. She raised herself up on her knees. Brendan’s eyes shone. His cock lengthened and lifted, where it had just a moment ago lain indolently against his muscled thigh. The sight sent a burst of fresh warmth to her pussy and encouraged her fingers to work her breast harder. She wanted to be wet. She wanted him to know how much she enjoyed the feel of his gaze on her, how his watching her pleasure herself made her so wet.

  “A direct approach and firm hand are needed.” She spread her legs so she could run the sphere up between them.

  “I see,” Brendan murmured, fingering his cock thoughtfully. He was fully erect now. The sight flashed through her like lightning.

  “It’s not a time for subtext,” she murmured. She rubbed the sphere across her pussy. The smooth pressure excited her, opening her up wide. She rolled the sphere over her clit. The weight and the curve of it sent a stab of pleasure down deep into her and her pussy swelled hot and ready for more. A groan escaped her lips, from her own attentions, and from the sight of Brendan’s strong hand moving up and down his glorious cock. Not hard. He didn’t want to get himself off, but he couldn’t stop from touching himself, not while he was watching her. Power mixed with desire, heating blood and skin. Her breasts felt full and heavy. Her breath caught in her throat as she ran her glass toy up and down her slit, parting her folds, circling it against her hungry entrance and then back up to her throbbing clit. She had to struggle to keep her eyes open. She wanted to see him. She wanted the heat of his bright gaze on her, wanted to see how hard her exhibition made him. Her pussy entrance swelled and clenched, seeking his cock. She snugged her glass lover against it, circling and rubbing until little mews of pleasure escaped her. Still, her body clenched around her emptiness. She was so hot, so wet. She felt good, but her toy wasn’t enough. She could make herself come right now and it wouldn’t be enough. She wanted Brendan’s long, hard, delicious cock inside her.

  The bed shifted and her eyes flew open. Brendan was beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and cupped the hand that held her improvised sex toy, circling it against her clit. She cried out with pleasure and it drained all the strength from her knees. She would have fallen back except for his arms holding her up.

  “What’s your motivation now?” His tongue flicked out to taste her earlobe. His hand moved hers, making her rub her pussy harder, forcing the sphere deep into her folds and up again, back and forth. The hard, smooth pressure poured pleasure straight into her core. “What do you want, Tamara?”

  “You!”

  “But what do you want from me?” He stopped her hand. She hung between his hands, the sphere pressed right against her clit, his cock pressed against her thigh. It was so sweet. So heavy, so hot. It was burning. She was burning.

  “I want you to fuck me.” She groaned, struggling to move her hand, but he held her too firmly for that. “Fuck me hard with that beautiful big cock.”

  “Yes,” he drew the word out long and slow, and she moaned again. She felt him smile against her ear. “I think you’re ready for your close-up now.”

  He took the sphere and dropped it over the side of the bed. She went down onto her elbows at once, her ass rising up in the air. Brendan caressed her there slowly, appreciatively. Her breasts swung free, as swollen and aching as her pussy, which he now teased mercilessly. Her ass cheeks clenched the air helplessly.

  “I can see you.” He caressed her, opening her wide to his view. “I can see your pretty pussy work. I can see you so wet and so hungry.”<
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  “Please,” she begged, arching her ass, straining to lift her pussy to him, offering herself, all her wet, inflamed passion. “I can’t stand it anymore. I need you to fuck me.”

  She heard the foil tear on another condom packet. She had just long enough to be grateful the bedroom was so well stocked, before Brendan plunged his cock into her, balls deep.

  “Ahhhhh!” Relief and fresh passion spilled through her. He filled her, he stretched her, he caressed her. There was no part of her channel he did not reach. Her pussy clamped down hard, struggling to trap him, but he was too strong, too fast. He thrust deeper, deeper, his hips smacking her soft ass, making her moan and her pussy tighten. Her nipples rubbed the bedspread, adding fresh glimmers of pleasure. She drank it all in and only wanted more.

  She struggled to find her own rhythm and lost, overridden by his strength. In that loss, pleasure only burned brighter, her pussy and nipples clenched harder.

  “Oh, yes, like that! Just like that!”

  He laughed at her helplessness, low and throaty. “Like that? Or like this.” He plunged in so deep she could feel his balls against her dripping pussy lips. He bent over her so that his belly rubbed against her ass, and so his fingers could find her clit again.

  “Oh God!” she moaned.

  “Yes.” He ground his cock deep into her, forcing her clit to rub up against his hands. It had never been this good. She had never been this full. He demanded her pleasure, demanded her passion with each thrust of his cock, and she gave it willingly. She’d fuck him, be fucked by him, and never stop. Her orgasm burst through her, sending her hips bucking wildly, smacking against his hips, pressing her clit wildly against his hand, pleasure building even as it flooded out of her. He roared and his control shattered and his climax fucked her fast, uncontrolled, drinking her pleasure and pouring it into her again.