Love Lust (3 page)

Lust-sick, I could take right down to the dry heaves and migraine. Lovesick was just too hard, though. Lovesick ached soul deep.

Justin took my hand and led me off the tangled dance floor. My thighs trembled in excitement. Wet heat bloomed between them. His voice alone was a numbing drug on my willpower. I was flirting with fire, I knew.

We stepped into the cold night air. The din of the club hushed away, replaced by the sounds of the nearby downtown strip. Traffic hummed. Bright lights blared and blinked. All I saw was him. His scent beckoned me to step off into untold pleasures. But my heart kept me grounded in reality. Though I still believed I’d find the one who would release me from this curse, chances were, Justin would be yet another link in the chain.

He pulled me into the alleyway and pressed me against the concrete wall. His mouth covered mine in a demanding, feverish kiss. His tongue was hot, his lips soft, but firm on mine. I met each press and lick measure for measure, devouring every sweet suck and nip as he fed me with gratification.

His hands found my waist. My hips found his bulging hard-on. God, he felt big. Bigger than before. My sex moistened from imagining the possibilities. Would he fill my mouth? Would it test my body’s limits? My appetite spiked at the very idea.

Breaking our kiss, he stepped back. I realized I’d pushed him. Good girl. At least some sane part of me remembered to slow down. I couldn’t succumb to the need and drown in oblivion, not without risking everything. My future, my health, even my life, at times, difficult or not.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to come on so strong.”

“It’s okay. You stopped.”

“But I don’t want to.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking stunned and tousled and wonderful. “I’m so attracted to you.”

I trembled inside. How had I resisted attraction like this so well before, with Seth? With others? My chest panged. If Seth only knew how much I had loved him.
No. Better never to let him know. Because he wouldn’t understand. Even if I could tell him the truth and he believed it; it would hurt him. He would see me differently. I couldn’t live with that. I focused my gaze on my new interest. “I’m really attracted to you, too. But….”

I had to play the game.

“I know. I know. Too fast, right?”

I nodded, peering up at him through my lashes, letting my lower lip pout ever so slightly. He’d fed me well, even with a kiss. And I had no doubt he was feeling more than typical desire for me. But a one-night stand would only make me crash. I needed long-term sustenance.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, his breath making hot clouds in the air. The throaty sound of it was a tease all its own.

“Thanks,” I said and licked my lips.

He groaned just watching. “Slower?”

I nodded slightly, letting my hips jut forward in invitation. He took it. And by slow, he clearly meant, tantalizing. The demanding passion of before became a press and suckle of his lips on mine. His tongue softened. His lips’ moves did things in places he wasn’t even close to touching. The tenderness each touch caressed me with nearly hurt, it felt so good.

“Are you cold?” he asked, leaning back so he could see my eyes and watch me react to his cold fingertips as they trailed up my bare thigh. “This isn’t exactly winter wear.”

“It’s wool,” I said on a swallow, my mouth watering.

His fingers snuck higher. Around to my inner thigh, past the hem of my skirt, pausing at the edge of my panties. Though we stood in shadows, I saw the blue of his eyes, heavy-lidded and lit with desire for me, which held mine. He slipped one finger beneath the satin threshold and tugged. The cold touch of his hand so close to the building, wet need inside of me made me whimper. His eyes flashed at the sound, triumphant. I moved toward his finger, wanting so much more. He didn’t move closer though, not at first. Not until I showed him pleading in my gaze.

He grinned sweetly and inched closer, touching the slick result of my craving for him.

“Jesus, you’re wet.” His gaze faltered, his eyes almost rolling back in exultation.

I only nodded, waiting for his now warm finger to enter me, aching for the feel of his long, strong hand coaxing waves of pleasure from me. He didn’t make me wait long. Returning his steady gaze to mine, he drew his finger over my bulging clitoris, sending delicious shivers through me, curling my climax closer. He stroked down the length of my apex’s valley, allowing his other fingers to gently graze my most ticklish spots. I throbbed. He traced a circle that wound in closer, deeper, ever so slightly more into me until I could feel his rough knuckle pressing down.

I gasped, raising my leg to allow better access. He took it and stroked in and out of my wet, hungry pussy with enthusiasm. A wicked grin curved his mouth. God, he was devastatingly sexy.

“You like this, baby?” he said and I simultaneously loathed and loved the endearment.

I nodded, fighting to keep my eyes open and staring back into his.

“Am I going too fast?” he asked, sincere concern in his eyes and his voice.

“I barely know you,” I said, breathless, nearly oblivious. His hands were magical and I was going to cum if he didn’t stop. But I wouldn’t tell him not to stop. I couldn’t.

“But, you like me?”

Who cared? Oh, yeah. I did. Love. Not just sex. Sex would not be enough. I needed both, as a woman and as the sex-addicted, cursed succubus I’d become. He paused. His hand went a little limp and moved away. I grabbed it before he could, shaking my head. “It just feels so good,” I said, hoping he would understand the struggle I was dealing with. “Do we like each other, maybe?”

“Definitely,” he said and his mouth was on mine again, kissing me in such a way that spoke his limited control over his desire for me.

I broke away. “I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl. I want you badly, but I can’t just…”

“Neither am I. I know, I know. Never trust a stiff prick, right?”

Speaking of stiff, I couldn’t resist reaching to the outline pressing against his jeans and feeling the length, grabbing the outline. Oh, my. He was endowed, to say the least. How would I ever get a man this hot, a man that I craved this much, to ever love me? Not by being easy. I had to stop. I had to play the game.

I kept my gaze coy and daring. He pushed his finger back into me, slipping in a second. And every soft, slow stroke, every gentle kiss on my trembling lips, awakened my craving more fully. I fumbled the top button of his fly open, my hands shaking in eagerness.

An eruption of noise startled me back to reality. A rowdy group leaving the club walked past the shallow alley. Justin moved, blocking the view of his hand up my skirt, but not a single passerby glanced our way. We must’ve been deeper in shadows than I thought. Or maybe I owed a thank you card to dollar shots night.

They were gone and his finger drove into me again, making me moan from the shockwaves of pleasure in my pussy. My aching need and wakened craving coiled tighter. I had to cum. I needed to cum. I realized, no matter how much it risked that I’d never see this man again, my body and my curse didn’t care. Justin’s touch fed me and while the nourishment wouldn’t last, I wanted to binge on this pleasure for all it was worth.

Admitting as much pushed me past the point of return. I couldn’t stop. Deep, primal need took over. His finger twirled and stroked. In and out of my slippery heat. Wet noise filled the air, mingling with my bated breathing and soft whimpers. I freed his cock and gripped the hard, thick length with both hands. God, he was glorious. The tip bulged. I could feel him throb in my careful grip. I wanted his cock in my mouth, in my aching pussy. But his fingers were magic and I couldn’t stop him. He pressed the heel of his palm against my clit.

“You’re going to make me cum,” he said, groaning. But his eyes held to mine.

“Jesus, that’s so perfect,” I panted, meaning his voice as much as his hand and as much as his cock in my stroking hands.

My hips curled to his hand. I was going to explode and though I hated looking away from his erotic stare, I wanted to see the cum shooting out of the tip, dripping onto my trembling hands.

“Say my name,” he said and kissed me quickly.

“Justin,” I said, returning the deep kiss, then breaking away. “Yes, Justin.”

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispered, fingers twirling and pressing and driving into my pussy.

My legs shook. I closed my eyes, let my hands fall still and surrendered to the climax ready to sweep over me in steep waves.

“No,” he said, but didn’t stop. “Open your eyes. I want to see you cumming.”

I obeyed. “Oh, God.” The first wave took over. “Oh, God.”

“Say it,” he purred, his eyes doing things to me I couldn’t explain.

“Justin,” I moaned as my pussy clenched in tight, sweet pleasure. And I said it again and again and again. “Justin. Justin.” God, yes. Justin.

My succubus hunger drank in the pleasure and grew supremely sated. But the woman I still was had a little something she wanted, too. A little taste of power.

Justin gently pulled his hand from my body. I took it and licked each finger, loving the look in his eyes and the bounce of his cock.

“My turn,” I said, lowering myself to a squat.

His cock stood pointing high, rigid in anticipation. For the briefest moment I wondered how in the world I’d fit this thing in my mouth. He braced himself against the wall. A car drove past. I didn’t care. I wanted to taste his hot, salty essence. I wanted to see it shooting out, pouring over my hands. I wanted the power to do to him what he had done to me.

I wanted him to scream my name.

I looked up at him and smiled wickedly. “Say it.”

“Olivia.”

“Huh-uh. It’s Liv.”

“Liv,” he panted, his gaze pleading.

I licked the tip, suckled it, letting my mouth water over it so I could use the slick moisture to coax his cum into my waiting mouth. Justin groaned. His hips leaned in.

Carefully, I took his cock into my mouth, moaning in satisfaction when it jerked. God, he was big. Thick and long and hard. I took his cock as far back as I could so it pressed against my throat. I moaned, loving the vibrations my voice sent through his length. I used one hand to reach in to cup his tightening balls, the other to guide his cock. I stroked him with my mouth, letting all the wet, sloppy noise fill the air.

The thrill of supreme sexual power over him filled me up. I went fast, then slowed. I stroked hard, then soft. I lingered. I paused.

One of his hands went into my hair. “Liv, where have you been all my life? Fuck. That feels so good.”

I was going to make him cum. I might no longer present the all-important challenge but, by God, I would make him forget every other woman who came before me. I pulled him out of my mouth and worked my hands in tight strokes, holding his gaze. “Say my name. And say please. And tell me what you want.”

A flicker of delight showed in the passion fogging his eyes. “Please, Liv, please suck my cock.”

The satisfaction of those words were almost as powerful as the orgasm he’d given me. In fact, it awoke my body and I realized I could want more of him. But first, my turn to finish at play. “Suck it?”

He nodded. “Please.”

“Do you like how I suck your cock?”

“Fuck, yes. Please. I want to cum in your mouth. Please. I’m so close.”

I ran my tongue over the tip, licking the bead of salty liquid off. I took him into my mouth, deep, and sucked. And moaned. And stroked. A faint thread of golden shimmer drew from his belly toward me. I breathed the glow in, feeding on his attraction. His first shudder came. Then another. And another. Each one harder and faster until he shot into my waiting mouth. I milked every last drop, feeling sated down to the tips of my toes.

I stood up. Justin leaned his head down against my shoulder.

“I almost just passed out. My God.” He swallowed. “That was amazing.”

“So.” I wiped my mouth and grinned. “What do you want to do now?”

“Breakfast?”

My stomach growled. Ah, yes. One of the many things I’d grown to love about Las Vegas. A girl could get a Denver omelet, cheese leaking out the sides, at any Godforsaken hour.

“Sure, just not downtown. Is that cool?”

Chapter Three

Leave it to Paula to save a girl from any risk of awkward silences after sex and a meal. My phone vibrated urgently from my purse as I dug around for a twenty to pay the bill, though Justin was insisting he had it covered. Her earlier text told me she’d see me at home and wanted details. If she was calling, she might be pissed.

“At least let me get the tip,” I said, hitting reject on Paula’s call. I needed to talk to her, but not in front of Justin. I was feeling too good and I knew it would show in my voice, too. Paula was likely pissed and I’d tell her sorry later. I wanted to enjoy the effects of our encounter just a bit longer before letting the guilt and consequences set in.

“Uh-oh. The ex calling?”

“Ex? No way. Just my friend.” The way he asked, I had to wonder if Justin had spotted me earlier at Java Jungle, sitting with Seth. Maybe that look across the room hadn’t been just for me. He hadn’t stared at me again and I would have sworn I’d kept back enough as I’d tailed him to the club.