Siren Unleashed [Texas Sirens 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (10 page)

She smiled, shy sensuality coming off her in waves. She was tentative, but she wanted this. He could tell. He wondered just how much experience she had. “He did. He was actually really amazing, but I need more. But I was so grateful for the discipline.”

And he was grateful that dumb-ass Dom hadn’t taken her up on all that sweetness she promised. He thought briefly about texting Chase. He would be crazy about the girl with the cotton candy hair and doe eyes. She was exactly Chase’s type, but he didn’t want to scare her off.
Hey, I want to share you with my twin brother. By the way, what’s your name
, seemed to be just asking for trouble.

Chase could wait. Ben wanted to forget his craptastic day and the fact that he was working a murder case that might hurt his boss, and all the shit with Georgie. He didn’t need the pink-haired girl’s name. He just needed to get inside her, to remind himself that he was fucking good at something. He could satisfy her and take a little something for himself.

“No playing, okay, sweetheart? I just want to fuck for a good long while. Can you just let me make you feel good?” He was too fucking tired to tie her up and play all the games Chase insisted on.

Her bottom lip trembled just a little. “Good. I don’t know how I would handle it. I might need to be on top, if that’s all right. Actually I don’t want to be under you. I need to be on top, okay?”

Girl on top was perfect. She could do most of the work. “I’m fine with that. I’d like to kiss you again.”

She nodded, and he didn’t wait for more. He pulled her close, reveling in the feel of her against him. It was an oddly comfortable feeling, as though he’d held her before. Even her scent seemed familiar and soothing. Everything about her calmed him. Well, the parts of him that weren’t standing at rigid attention and begging to dip inside what promised to be a tight pussy.

He kissed her, his tongue tangling and finding the hard metal nub of her tongue piercing. That would feel like heaven on his cock. He could hold that pink hair of hers and let her run that little stud across his dick until he was just about ready to blow. Then he could pull her off and mount her, fucking her until she cried out.

Her nipples rubbed against his chest, her hands exploring.

The elevator door opened. They were on ten. His room. He hoped the bellman had done his job and brought his luggage up already. That bag had his condoms. He’d tossed them in because he was going to a sex club, and despite the crappy job he had to do, there was sex to be had at sex clubs. He’d spent the last year or so of his damn life watching after Kitten and being forced to stare as his friends all settled into relationships where they got regular, happy sex.

Ben wasn’t about to feel bad about his hookup, no-name quickie.

He took her hand and led her down the hall, his heart thudding in his chest because this freaking no-name quickie was making him feel more alive than he had in forever.

She pulled back just a little. He turned and softened. She looked so vulnerable. His hands covered hers, surrounding her because he wasn’t about to let her go. He would coax her, make her feel safe because he just knew he had to have her.

“What’s your name?” It came out of her mouth so softly he almost didn’t hear it.

He smiled, bringing her hand to his lips. Her skin was so soft, her scent feminine and, fuck, citrusy. God, he loved that smell. “Benjamin. It’s Ben Dawson. How about you, sweetheart?”

That spark of spunk was back in her eyes, making his cock jump. “Ah, the formal introduction. Nat. Though I do answer to Cotton Candy.”

Nat. He liked it. It fit her. “Well, you are definitely as sweet as cotton candy.” He pulled his key card with one hand and tugged her close with the other. “Are you still sure? We don’t have to do this. We can go downstairs and talk. I can buy you a drink.”

He didn’t want that. The need to fuck her was riding him hard. He wasn’t even sure what it was about her that had him so fucking on edge, but he was going with it. The emotion felt so good. He’d been dead inside for a while, the world around him bland and black and white, and when he looked at her he saw colors.

Fuck
. Was he feeling something Chase was feeling? Was Chase flirting with some pretty woman and Ben was getting the edge of his arousal?

“I don’t want a drink. I want this.” The door closed behind Nat and it didn’t matter who was feeling what. All that mattered was getting her out of those clothes and onto his cock. He could deal with the rest of it later. For right now a gorgeous woman wanted him, and that felt really fucking good.

He tossed the leather vest aside, puffing up with male pride as her eyes got wide. He was pushing thirty-six, but he kept himself in shape, the rigors of his past military life never quite leaving him. “Come here.”

He was done playing. He wanted his hands on her.

She took a deep breath, stepping forward. He could feel her nerves. He put a hand on her hair, smoothing it back. His other hand cupped her hip, running over her curves. He let her hips bump against him. She was so petite. He wanted her to feel the length of his erection, wanted to rub it against her pussy, but he caught the gentle curve of her belly. If he wanted to kiss her, he would nearly have to bend in half. Groaning with frustration, he reached down and picked her up. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

She gasped, but did as he asked. “You picked me up.”

Her mouth was slack like she couldn’t believe it. He liked this position. If her clothes were off, he could sink right in and control the penetration by moving her up and down on his cock. As it was, he could feel her heat against his crotch, and fuck, he loved the way her ass felt in his hands. He grinned at her. “You don’t weigh a thing, sweetheart. And this way, you can kiss me.”

She bit into that hot-as-fuck, bee-stung bottom lip but seemed to come to a decision. Her hands sunk into his hair, and she tugged back a little. Yeah, that got him hot, too. Chase was the one who wanted to be in control all the time. Ben liked a little push back. Ben liked the give-and-take of a really strong woman. He wanted to argue and fight and fuck like animals afterward.

He allowed her to lead, her tongue tentative at first and then demanding. Her hands pulled at his hair, and he sank his fingers against the flesh of her ass. No panties. Good girl. He didn’t want to have to deal with underwear. He wanted to shove that skirt up and fuck into her. There would be plenty of time later for a longer, leisurely fuck. Hell, if he got her off well enough, she might still be around when Chase got back, and they could show her the joys of a little double penetration.

He walked to the bed, bypassing the living area and heading for the bedroom portion of the suite, hoping she wouldn’t notice that his brother was staying here, too, and Chase was a slob from hell. Of course it would be way better if she didn’t figure out that he and Chase had shared quarters most of their lives because they had some freaky fucking twin thing where they could feel each other’s emotions, so it felt stupid to have separate apartments when they couldn’t have separate lives.

His knees hit the bed, and he turned until he could fall back on it. She wanted to be on top. Said she needed it. He meant to give it to her. He loved the weight of her on his cock. Which was wretchedly hard and practically banging out of his leathers.

She pulled up, her torso coming over him. “Dawson, I need this. Can you make me forget everything just for a little while?”

Oh, yeah. He could do that for her. Her every word dripped like honey. “Grab a condom out of that leather bag at the end of the bed and you can do whatever you like to me. Consider me your slave tonight, sweetheart.”

A shudder passed through her. “Just be my lover.”

He nodded. He wasn’t going to argue semantics. “Your lover.”

She nodded, breathless, and rolled off him. She was lithe, her body as sensuous as a cat. He heard the sound of a zipper, and then she was back, a little foil wrapper in her hand.

“You come prepared, Dawson.” She stood over him.

“I’m a freaking Boy Scout.” He could feel the judgment coming off her in waves. “I was coming to a sex club.” He sat up. “People usually come here for sex. You’re here. What’s your excuse?”

He hated judgment. He’d had enough of it when he was a kid dealing with his dad.
Why can’t you be normal? What the fuck is wrong with you and your brother that you can’t just like a girl on your own?

He’d gotten the first question when he and Chase always, always, always got the same grades and answered the same questions the same way in school. No matter how they tried to separate them, they always answered the same until they’d learned to adapt. And the second accusation came from their father right before he’d dropped them out into the world without money or help or security.

Yeah. He didn’t do judgment. Not even when he wanted a little pussy.

“I was joking.” Cotton Candy put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down. “Don’t be so serious. I was just a little intimidated. It’s been a while for me.”

“How long?”

She ripped open the condom. “Four years, one month, and three days, though I don’t count a bunch of those months so really more like four and a half years. It’s been a while and I’m way more bitter than I was then.”

Four and a half years. Something had happened to her because she was a bundle of sensuality. He let his hands drift up her thighs. “I can do this as fast or slow as you need me to. I’m adaptable.”

Her lips curved up in a grin. “I think you are, Dawson. You might be just what I need.” Her hands traced the curve of his tat. “I admit, when I saw you I thought you were a big bad Dom who wouldn’t ever let a sub have her way no matter what.”

So fucking gorgeous. She tried to hide it, but she couldn’t. Sure, she would be more traditionally beautiful without the pink hair and three earrings, but he liked her mileage. She was lived in, comfortable in her skin. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have a little ink. “I want to give you what you need.”

“I need this.” She played at the ties on his leathers, releasing them and pushing the
V
back. His cock sprang right out, like a puppy just released to play. She sighed, a happy, satisfied sound, and took him into one hand. “I definitely need a little of this.”

“Take it, baby.” He closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of that small hand grasping his cock. “Take everything you need.”

He let his head rest back and forgot about everything.

* * * *

Chase stared into his rum and wondered what his little piece of sugar was doing.

His
. Damn. He was already possessive. This was bad. Really bad. His brain worked at a rapid-fire pace. There were a million and one reasons a relationship with her was bad. She was one of Julian’s little pet projects. Julian would very likely cut his cock off with a rusty razor blade if he hurt her. She was also potentially going to jail for murder. That didn’t bother him so much. If she did it and he decided it was justified, he could get her off.

God, he wished he’d gotten her off. He’d thought about it, thought about just spreading her legs and playing with her pussy. He could have made her come. She’d been boneless after her spanking, her whole body slumped over his knee. Her bare ass had been right there, just waiting to be played with.

But she’d been crying. He hadn’t been able to think straight. He’d followed his instincts and pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling her close.

He didn’t fucking cuddle. He left that to Ben. Ben was the cuddler. Ben was the pussy ass who needed to hold a chick after sex. He hadn’t even had sex with her, but he’d enjoyed the feel of her against his skin. He’d nuzzled his face against that bright pink hair, and his mind had gone to a hundred different places.

He’d thought about taking her back to Dallas with him. He was losing it.

“Chase, dude, where did Ben go?” Logan walked up, his broad body in leathers. Kitten walked beside him, her head held high, so unlike the damaged girl who’d come to him four years ago begging for a beating. She’d been with that fucking monster for so long she equated a beating with love and acceptance. He could still remember the time she’d tried to climb in bed with him, offering him her body, her mind, anything so he would let her call him Master.

She’d come to Chase. Not Ben. It always bothered him. She’d come to him because she’d thought he would be cruel.

Cotton Candy hadn’t thought he was cruel.

“Haven’t seen him.” Chase’s eyes caught on something straight out of his own personal horror film. His baby sister stood ten yards away, her blonde hair swinging as she talked to the bartender who simply shook his head and pointed Chase’s way. “Holy fuck. What the hell is that? Logan, you better tell me I’m dreaming right this fucking second.”

Georgia caught sight of him. His pain-in-the-ass baby sister was wearing a leather miniskirt and bustier he recognized as Kitten’s. It looked like she’d stuffed herself in and was in deep danger of falling out. It was not a sight he wanted to remember. She turned, her blue eyes widening and her mouth opening in what he was damn sure would be a screech. Chase braced himself.

Logan turned, his deep voice resounding. “Don’t do it, Georgia. This is a dungeon. If you’re going to scream, you better have a damn good reason. If you don’t have one, I’ll give you one.”