Sexy as Hell Box Set (117 page)

The thick, tempered glass was cold, a shock of ice that brought more goosebumps. My heart was beating so hard and so fast that the sound of my pulse drowned everything out except the rasping of our breath. It was the accompaniment to the dull thuds, a sexy scratch of noise that scuffed the air, our own form of music.

“Fuck, it’s good to hear you’re back,” he said, bending his head to lick up and down the column of my neck. “I’ve missed you.”

God, I’d really let things go, hadn’t I? There was no time to ponder that now, because his wet tongue was working wonders on my libido, preventing anything other than what he was doing from filling my mind. His breath heated my skin, raising the hairs on the back of my neck, and a small shiver went through me. It spread inside and out, encompassing me as though it were a live being coming out of hibernation. It left me giddy and hyper-alert, sensitive to everything related to heat—the mugginess of our close proximity, the slowly warming glass at my back and arse, the hotness where our bellies and chests touched.

I clutched his
arse, massaging with slow kneads, pulling him towards me a little more so his erection pressed against my lower belly. He was so much taller than me, and the need to have that hard length between my folds prompted me to place my arms around his neck and stand on tiptoe.

“I need to feel your cock on my cunt,” I said into his ear, more forcefully than I’d intended. I was still trying on my old self, seeing if it fit me these days, and for a pleased moment I
realised it did.

Very well.

Bolder, I went on. “Need it rubbing up and down my slit. Wet from my juices. You like that, right? Yeah, you like it, don’t you, Jacob?” I smiled a small smile as he stiffened further, and it gave me courage. “Fuck, yes, you like your cock covered in my wetness. Like me licking it clean.” I raised one leg, bent at the knee, indicating I wanted him to pull me, hold me over his rigid length. “Come on, Jacob. Lift me up so I can press my sopping pussy against you.”

His sharp intake of air made my smile grow wider, and a stutter of breath huffed out of his mouth and onto my neck. I had him right there, right where I wanted him, and it hadn’t taken much effort at all.

Back into the swing of things, growing more daring by the second, and adoring the fact that he was loving my words so much, I said, “I want to get off just by sliding up and down. Just from your fat, wide cock head brushing my clit.” The thought of it snatched the air from my lungs for a moment, but I recovered quickly enough to say, “And you remember when we did that before, don’t you? Yes, you remember. You came too, my pressure dragging down your foreskin...”

“Jesus, Karen. You’re fucking killing me here.”

He lifted me, settled my slit against his cock, and grabbed my arse. Pressing down, he applied light force and, my God, I could’ve come just from that. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, willing myself to calm down. It was difficult, though—my clit throbbed in time with my heart, and that thought returned, the one about someone using binoculars, and I found myself more turned on than ever. This wasn’t indecent exposure, it was
decent—
fabulous, exciting and off-the-charts hot.

Not being so ‘good’ now, was I?

He began to move, sliding and rubbing through my slick folds. I hooked one ankle over the other and gripped as best I could, thankful that he was holding me so tight. I was weak with desire—all my energy had been diverted to my cunt. All I could think of was the pressure of his shaft working over my clit and the sensation of my pussy moistening further for him. It was so wet I imagined it dripping down my thighs, trickling to my knees and soaking onto the plush carpet.

“Talk to me some more,” he demanded, his lips just touching my left temple. “God, talk to me some more, love. Talk dirty, talk filthy, whatever comes into your head, just say it. I want to hear it. I want to hear all of it.”

A whole host of words tumbled through my mind. Foul, rank words, utterances suitable for porn films or worse. Words I wouldn’t have said to him before when we’d talked dirty. But we were older now, life had moved on. We had been through so much together.

As though my inhibitions had become as transparent as the window I was pressed against, I suddenly found it easy to let loose these new words. This was Jacob—I could say anything and it would be okay.

I took a deep breath; surprised by how husky my voice sounded when I started to speak. “Your cock is like a steel rod fucking against my clit. But I want more. I want you to ram it anywhere you want. Take me and do whatever you want with my body, Jacob. I’m yours. What I want doesn’t matter—this is all about you and sating your needs.”

He grunted, and, although he kept one hand tight on my
arse, he slid the other upwards and tangled it in my hair, squashing it between my crown and the glass pane. He pulled me closer, my head and my arse, as if he couldn’t get near enough despite the fact that the fronts of our bodies were connected completely.

“Yes, that’s it, harder, rougher,” I gasped. “Do whatever you want. I’m just a rag doll. I’m here for your pleasure. It doesn’t matter what I feel. Hurt me, overpower me, drag me to hell with your most primitive desires and fuck me into oblivion. To a place that’s so dark and hot that I won’t even remember my own name. You own my cunt, my mouth, my...my
arsehole. It’s all yours. Fuck me harder, Jacob, so much harder!”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he said, easing his head back to look at my face.

His eyes were wild and flashing; swirling vats of lust. It thrilled me utterly to see something so new and exciting in irises I’d stared into so many times, and knew like the back of my own hand.

“I’ve got to get inside you, now,” he groaned. He bent his knees and shoved his cock deep into my cunt.

I cried out at the forceful stretch of his invasion, but he silenced me with a savage kiss, his open mouth hot and wet and frantic. Against my cheek his breath was hard and fast as he pistoned his hips back and forth. Squeaks from my sweat-damp skin rubbing on the window filled my ears, and I had a fleeting mental image of what my soft, pale body must look like from the outside—my flattened arse pressed to a bloodless white with a big, hairy hand digging into the left cheek and creating dents. My pussy and the dark cleft of my anus exposed and my spine and shoulders shifting with the force of his thrusting.

Gasping for air around our passionate kiss, I locked my hands at his nape. My pussy squeezed him tight, building up to a fantastic orgasm. I remembered how much I enjoyed fucking while we were standing. His rock-hard pubic bone bashed into my clit so perfectly, dragging it upwards with each sublime thrust. Why had we gone for missionary so many times over the last few years when this was so divine? What else had we forgotten that was so good?

“More,” he said sharply into my mouth. “Come on, tell me more of what I should do to you, Karen.”

I willed my mind to work. It was hard when I was flying high on the thrilling ride to climax, but there was a scenario in my head. Like a seedling bursting through the soil, it stretched to my mouth.

Out it spilled.

“Don’t say my name.” I gasped as a particularly forceful thrust had his glans stroking my G-spot. “You don’t know me. This is a dark alley. I was going home after seeing friends for the evening. A lone lady, vulnerable, heels loud on the cobbles.” I paused to heave in a breath, my lungs desperate with the effort of talking as he pounded into me with
fervour.

As if sensing my struggle, he slowed his hips but increased the depth of penetration. Every time he was seated to the hilt he jerked, hitting my cervix and reeling my clit into a wondrous state of building pressure.

With a little less air being shunted from my lungs I carried on. My lips touched his neck, just a fraction below his ear, where he smelt masculine and raw and the texture of his skin was smooth but tough. “You saw me, walking into this alley. You were rock-hard for a fuck, so hard, but you were sick of your own hand. Tired of getting yourself off while you looked at porn. So you decided to just take me against my will. It didn’t matter that it was me, it could have been any woman, but I happened to be there, that night, when you were feeling hard and brave and desperate. So damn desperate.”

“So how did it happen?” he whispered, breathily. He kissed across my cheek and nibbled the shell of my ear, the tempo of his hips a wonderful rhythm that kept my orgasm within reach but also under control. “I need to know. Tell me how we got to this stage. The me-fucking-you stage.”

I shut my eyes to the harsh daylight of the room. “I heard your footsteps behind me and turned, scared. When I started to run, you chased me, grabbed me, hauled me against a wall and ripped off my skirt. You were so big and strong and so damn determined.” The image in my head was scarily vivid. I could see us wrestling, limbs tangled, and hear the sound of material tearing. Jacob all horny and powerful; me scared and helpless. “You tore off my panties. I screamed for you to get off me, let me go home. But you clamped your hand over my mouth, you didn’t care. You wanted me. You wanted to fuck my pretty cunt hard and fast.”

Gripping his tense biceps, I built up to that moment of bliss, where climax is inevitable; a beautiful knowledge spreading over me that satiation would soon be mine.

“Ah, love, talk while we come. Keep telling me the story.”

I shook, feverish with need now. “You’re thrusting into me, your big, bad cock penetrating my pussy, your hands groping my breasts, harsh and cruel. I bite your shoulder. You’re furious and twist me to face the wall. My hands flail against sharp brick. The wall is cold and gritty. It smells of damp and rotting food.”

“Then what? Tell me, then what?”

“You fuck me from behind.” I was almost shouting now, the syllables juddering as his pace increased. “You don’t care that I’m not wet for you, you shove into my poor abused pussy over and over. You’ve still got a hand clamped over my mouth so I can’t scream for help and you ride into me like a marauder. I’m overpowered... I’m... Oh, God, Jacob...I’m...going to...”

“Me too, me fucking too.”

We came together. It was intense and furious. Our groans and shouts of delight
unmuffled and uninhibited.

“Ah, yes, that’s it, oh fuck, yes,” I cried, actually sinking my teeth into his shoulder.

“Oh, baby, fucking fantastic.” He jerked, lodging deep inside me as he spilled his seed high into my body.

My pussy clamped and squeezed him, clit bobbing on his pubic bone, drawing out every last, luscious spasm of ecstasy. Suddenly his mouth was on mine again, and he kissed me, deep and profound.

Running my hands over his sweaty shoulders, I clung on, forcing my breasts into the coarse hairs on his chest and battling for breath and sanity.

“Oh, God, that was something else,” he said, shuddering within my embrace.

As I slid my palms over his hot back, I was aware that every one of his muscles was taut and tight.

“You made me completely lose it then,” he murmured. “I felt like a horny teenager again, doing it for the first time. All control left me.”

I giggled breathlessly.

He pulled back and grinned, but kept his cock pumping slowly within me. He looked down. “Ah, fuck, that looks so hot.”

I followed his gaze. His veiny, mauve shaft, rising from his black pubic hair, slid backwards and forwards through my paler pubes. It was slick and shiny and still hard and solid. I could just make out the glossy nub of my clit jutting from its hood.

The sight of Jacob entering me was sublime and I would never tire of it. But suddenly I was aware once more of my position against the window, and the memory of the binoculars comment. I went to move my legs from his hips. But he grabbed both my thighs, kept me wrapped tight around him.

“No, don’t move. Jesus, I feel like I could come all over again.” He looked up and grinned, then ducked for a kiss.

I accepted it happily and a delicious flush of accomplishment filled me. I’d done it. The old Karen was back. I could still talk dirty. I could still make Jacob lose it with words.

But, my goodness, where had those words risen from?

Where on earth had that depraved image of being taken against my will come from? I’d described it so vividly and it had sent me reeling into one damn fine orgasm.

Was there something wrong with me? Then I realised.

It’s the book. That damn filthy book.

To continue reading about Karen and Jacob’s sexual awakening, please purchase
That Filthy Book.