The Unidentified Redhead (1) (13 page)

“Beautiful,” he breathed again, letting go of my hands to return them to my body. I did the same. As my fingertips slipped into the waistband of his jeans, he raised an eyebrow towards me.

“You first,” he scolded lightly, reminding me of his intentions. He began walking me backwards towards the bed and our hands and kisses became urgent again. I knew I only had seconds left before I was going to be powerless and I wanted him significantly more naked than he was now.

I expertly snapped open his button and unzipped before he knew what I was doing. As his eyes widened, I slipped one hand inside, found what I was looking for, and gave him a gentle but insistent squeeze.

“Fuck, Grace…” he moaned, buying me a few more seconds of time, which was all I needed. I slipped his jeans down his legs. He gave in, kicking off his shoes and allowing me to continue to slide them off. I deftly knelt in front of him before he could stop me, and as I finished removing them, I chanced a quick look up. He was staring down at me with such a look of lust and want it almost made me rock back on my heels.

His dark gray boxer-briefs were molded to his body as if they were made to be there. I could see his excitement underneath and my fingertips gently teased, fluttering and massaging him through the fabric. His hands wound in my hair and I pressed my face against him, feathering kisses on him, running my nails up the inside of his thighs.

“Sweet Grace, you are trying to distract me. It won't work,” he warned.

Is that a challenge?

I looked up at him, running my hands up along his bottom, grasping the back of his boxers firmly.

“You sure about that?” I asked, eyebrows raised. Before he had a chance to answer, I pulled them completely down, grasped him in my hand, and took him into my mouth…fully.

“Oh, God, Grace…Jesus,” he groaned, his hands tightening in my hair, reflexively bringing him deeper into me.

Hearing that gorgeous voice, that unfettered British accent, oh my God. I let him fill me, feeling the hardness of him at the back of my throat, and I smiled inwardly. This is exactly where I wanted him. He was perfect and huge and smooth and rock hard.

Did I mention huge?

I was in penis heaven.

I pulled back slightly, placing both hands on his length, and decided to mess with him a little. As I admired his perfection, I looked up at him and said.

“Would you call this a distraction?” I asked innocently, letting my tongue lick him from base to tip, playing it up as he watched me.

“Grace, what are you doing to me?” He moaned quietly, tracing his fingers lovingly around my face.

And in a voice that would have made a porn star proud, I answered back naughtily, “Sucking your cock.” I even shocked myself a little.

There was silence. Jack stopped moving, fingers stopped, hands stopped, hips even stopped rocking. I closed my eyes in embarrassment.

Oh, God, why did you say that? Too soon, too soon!

Which is why I was so surprised when I felt myself hit the bed with such force that pillows were displaced all over the room.

Jack had picked me up off my knees and thrown me on the bed and was now attacking me vigorously. My pants were unceremoniously yanked down and tossed aside. All that was left between this now crazed Brit and me was a tiny pair of black lace panties…oops, I'd spoken too soon.

He tore, actually tore, my panties from my body, leaving me naked and shaking before him. I was in shock by the turnaround. Who knew the word “cock” would do all this? I would have to remember that.

I heard the sweet sensual music of the Psychedelic Furs end, and somehow my play list from kickboxing class came on, aggressive and loud industrial music filling the room.

The band? The Prodigy. The song? “Firestarter.”

Oh my.

Jack looked at me with crazy in his eyes and let his gaze travel all over my body, stopping where my legs met and licking his lips.

“Fucking brilliant,” he growled, and proceeded to grab my hips and pull me towards the edge of the bed, sinking down so that I was level with his face. He bent his head to me.

And then Jack Hamilton began to give me the most earth shattering series of orgasms I had ever experienced in my entire life.

His tongue touched me and I arched off the bed so violently that he had to hold me down. “No love, you aren't going anywhere,” he admonished, and the feel of his hot breath against me almost made me come instantly. His hands gripped my hips, angling me so that I was presented to him, making me completely vulnerable to whatever he wished to do to me. I shivered in anticipation. I didn't know where he would come from next.

Oh, sweet lord.

His tongue made another pass, dragging all the way up, stopping just below where I needed him, circling, and then pulling back again. I let out a passionate groan, knowing that he would tease me as long as he thought I could handle it. I didn't know how long I could last. My hands buried themselves in my pillows as I gave myself over to the sensations that were coursing through me. The mix of the loud crazy music and the feeling of Jack's hair as it tickled my tummy was an amazing combination.

The music seemed to drive him on, setting a pace to his tongue. He began again, starting at the bottom, and licking me, gathering me, never quite touching me where I wanted him, but dancing around it and over it, making me begin to moan and groan and thrash about on the bed. He did this for what seemed like hours, building me up and then letting me back down. It was maddening. It was intoxicating.

It was not to be believed.

“Oh, God, that's so good!” I cried, and I could feel him smile against me as he moaned back, his lips vibrating slightly.

Holy Lord, Jack Hamilton is going down on you. And the Brit has mad skills.

He stopped for a second and I let my hands slip down and tangle in his hair.

“Grace, you taste unbelievable,” he murmured, letting his nose graze me and I moaned loudly. Then, his fingers finally began pushing into me. I cried out from the sudden pleasure of it, feeling him inside of me was almost more than I could bear. I clenched down around him, unable to stop the good orgasm that was soon to rip through me.

“God, you're beautiful.” He moaned, watching me react to his every touch, every stroke. His hands, his fingers were genius. He was playing me like an instrument.

I suddenly remembered the guitar in his bedroom from the other day. That was why he was so good at this. Guitar players always have the best hands.

I moaned again, beginning to lose it. He filled me up, pressing and twisting, searching for…fuck me, there it was. When he hit that, I lost my breath, all of it whooshing out of me in a rush and I froze.

He had found what would now and forever be known as my J-Spot.

I knew I was so close and I moved my hand from his hair, seeking his hand. His right hand let go of my hip and entwined with mine and I began to see points of light dance across my eyes.

As he continued to apply pressure, stroking me from the inside, his tongue finally, thankfully, perfectly, caressed me at the center of my world.

He touched me, really touched me, for the first time. He pressed his tongue against me, not moving, not licking, not sliding, just holding me down and anchoring me with that one constant, perfect pressure. And I came undone.

I chanted his name repeatedly as I felt wave after wave crash through me, my hands tight in his hair as my back arched and I screamed lustily. The insides of my eyelids were a mix of colors that shot back and forth, exploding as I lost all control.

***

I lost track of all time. All I know is that in the space of several Prodigy songs, he made me come again and again. I was like a rag doll by the end, limp and limbless. He had taken me with his tongue and his fingers and his hands all over that bed. I was on the edge of the bed, and then I was flipped over on the bed. I was up against the headboard, spread-eagle, while he worked me from below. There was a particularly intense moment when he had me above him, my hands gripping the bedposts for balance while he worked his magical fingers and his super magical tongue inside me.

And he had marked me.

Just before he dragged his body back up mine, he'd nibbled lightly on the inside of my right thigh. I sighed his name once more and he actually bit down, piercing the skin and making me shiver delightfully. He had flashed me a triumphant grin—there is nothing like a proud, proud man. A man should feel pride in his work…and making me come was now his job. I had never been given it so good in my life. My throat was hoarse, my legs were on permanent shimmy-shake, and I could not wipe the grin from my tired face.

And I was still wearing my heels. Slut.

I was lying on my back, with Jack snuggled up against me, his head pressed into the nook between my neck and my shoulders. His hand absently continued to caress my breasts, traveling from one to the other while I breathed contentedly beneath him. I had no energy even to speak, but I did channel a little strength into making my fingers scratch his head, granting me a peaceful sigh back. It was the least I could do. He had earned it.

“Grace?” he whispered, long after the music had switched to something a little more quiet.

“Hmm?” was all I could manage.

“I love that you called out my name when you, you know,” he said quietly.

“I did?” I asked incredulously.

“You don't remember?”

“Sweet Nuts, I don't remember anything after you ripped my panties off. I think I may have blacked out,” I sighed.

He laughed and continued to stroke my breasts. It was more than pleasant.

“I'll tell you what, though. You give mama a few minutes to recover here, and then it is on, Johnny Bite Down.” I quipped, the thought sending a fresh wave of desire through my body, which he instantly noticed.

“Grace, you have sex hair!” He laughed, guiding my hand up to the back of my head, where I could feel a nest beginning to form.

“Ah well, it was worth it,” I giggled, rolling over on top of him and sliding down his body. “Now then, let's see what young Mr. Hamilton is up for…ooh, I see he is already up,” I teased, as I made my way down his body.

“Hey, I thought you said you needed some recovery time, Crazy,'” he protested weakly, trying to grab my shoulders.

“Hamilton, shut the fuck up and enjoy this,” I commanded, using his own words against him.

He smiled and nestled his head back into the pillows, folding his arms behind his head to give him a better view of me.

“Carry on then.” He smirked.

And carry on I did.

The_Unidentified_Redhead

Chapter Twelve

I crawled down his body like a smitten kitten, intent on where I was headed. He hissed when I let my breasts brush against him, sliding up and back again with purposeful movements designed to make him come unglued. This was not my first time at the rodeo and I knew I was quite good at this. While he had started out smirking, his mouth had quickly turned into a perfectly shaped O as his eyes closed and he exhaled slowly.

“Grace,” he whispered, drawing my name out for literally seconds. His hands returned to my hair almost instantly and brushed it back from my face. When his eyes opened again, he saw me positioned with my mouth directly above him, not moving at all. I let my breath caress him and I watched him twitch beneath me. He was gorgeous. I gently took him into my mouth, just barely, and let my tongue sweep out to touch the tip of him. He groaned.

The sound of Jack Hamilton groaning was quite possibly the most beautiful sound in the world.

I let my fingertips caress the length of him and then grasped him firmly. His hips bucked off the bed, as my own had done earlier. Turnabout was fair play. I was going to enjoy teasing him.

When I took him into my mouth and he felt my hot tongue push against him, he reacted involuntarily. I stroked him quickly and then slowly, alternating my grip between maddeningly gentle and perfectly tight. He let his hands loose in my hair, gripping me when he needed an anchor.

I wrapped my lips around the base of him and then gently surrounded him with my teeth. I pulled back, letting my teeth graze his skin with gentle pressure, releasing him with relish. I immediately took him in again, burying him in my mouth as I had done earlier, letting him fill me. His breath took on a husky quality and I knew he was getting close. I couldn't let that happen.

I stopped, and sat back on my heels, and his eyes sprang open, meeting mine. Tilting my head as I looked at him, I grinned.

“Grace, quit fucking with me,” he growled thickly.

“Oh, I have only begun to fuck with you,” I whispered back. Leaning down again, I took his hands and pressed them against the sides of my breasts, pushing them together. I took him between them, squeezing him and earning another groan of approval.

“Ah, Grace, your tits are heaven.” He moaned.

“Mmm, does that feel good?” I asked, as I watched him from above.

“You have no idea,” he answered roughly.

I had some idea.

I bent down and took him back into my mouth again. I knew the sight of me with him between my breasts was going to be more than he could handle, and when my tongue found him again, I knew he was seconds away from his release. My mouth was furious on him, pumping him in and out of me, and his groans grew steadily louder as he tried to pull away from me.

“Grace, oh God, Grace, I'm going to…mmmm…” he stuttered, sitting up, trying to be a gentleman about this.

I paused only for a second to say, “I know,” and with one hand pushed him back onto the bed, lowering myself to him again.

He let his head settle into the pillows as he gripped my hair again, feeling his release begin. I felt him starting to come before he actually did and I kept my mouth tightly on him. I knew he wanted me to pull away. That sweet display of chivalry seconds before would have never worked on me; I wouldn't miss this for anything. I felt him explode in my mouth and I continued to keep pace with him as he shook. I watched from my vantage point as the most beautiful man in the world made the most beautiful face in the world.