Veiled Desire Read online

  “Yes. Subtle.” She was quiet, her hand stroking him as if it were perfectly normal for him to be driving while a woman played with his body. He had to fight the urge to wrap his fingers around her hand and thrust upward into the tight clasp. “Did you know what I wanted to do to you? What I fantasized about when you drew your boxers down your body?”

  He practically groaned. He did not need to hear any fantasies until he had a non-moving surface nearby. Then again, he didn’t want to stifle her sexuality either. He loved it, every surprising facet that made up Leyla. “What?”

  She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to, because he knew exactly what she was thinking about when she lowered her head to his lap. He shouted at the first touch of her tongue against the head of his cock and jerked the car to the shoulder of the road, ramming it into park.

  She started to draw away at the sudden grinding halt, but he sank his hands into her hair and brought her back to him with a slight murmur. “No…wanted both hands…”

  Unable to talk anymore, he tilted his head back and allowed himself to feel. Leyla swiped her tongue over the head of his penis, and then each side, teasing him but never actually taking him within her mouth. “Leyla, suck me, please.”

  She was so sweet, complying as soon as his tortured plea left his lips, drawing just the tip in and sucking hard. Her hands stroked the rest of his shaft, so it felt like he was covered in slick tightness. She allowed him to slip away for just a second. “You said next time you would come, it would be inside me. Will my mouth do?”

  He couldn’t comprehend the words at first, and then when he did, it was like a haze of lust completely obliterated whatever gentlemanly portion of his brain remained. With a growl of assent, he tightened his fingers in her hair and brought her lips back to his cock. No longer just content with allowing her to set the pace, he thrust upward into the tight wetness, using his grip to force more of himself inside her.

  He tried to halt his caveman behavior, liked to think he could have stopped, but then he glanced at her face. Her eyes were looking up at him, and they were filled with pleasure and heat. He tugged at the strands in his grip, and she moaned around her mouthful of his cock. “You like that,” he rasped, and tugged again. She nodded and tried to take even more of him.

  Forget stopping. When his cock hit the back of her throat on the next downstroke, he pressed his palm against the back of her neck. “Swallow.” She obeyed, the slick tightness massaging him. He held her there for an instant and then allowed her to come back up.

  The next time, and the next, he didn’t even have to direct her. With their eyes connected, she deep throated him once, twice, three…four times more and he just couldn’t take it. He held her still and groaned as his spine tingled and his semen shot into her mouth. She swallowed every drop, sucking gently until the end.

  He closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat, almost completely destroyed. That had been far beyond anything he could have ever imagined. Sure, he’d fantasized about fucking Leyla’s mouth, but the reality…God, the reality had been earth-shattering. What would it be like to finally get inside her pussy? Mason shuddered.

  He couldn’t wait to find out.

  First things first, though…

  She hadn’t bothered to rebutton him, and her hand idly played with his still-erect, wet cock. She sat leaning against him, her head on his chest. With a soft murmur of apology, he dislodged her for a second to twist and lean into the backseat.

  He handed her a bottle of water with a hand that shook. “It might be warm, but it’s new. You might, uh, need it.”

  Calm as can be, she took the bottle from him and twisted the cap off. As she put the bottle to her mouth, he stroked her cheek. She shot him a questioning look.

  “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to see you put something between your lips without wishing it’s my cock.”

  He half expected her to blush prettily. Instead, she winked at him and very deliberately stroked her tongue around the rim of the bottle.

  He watched her for a second and then started the car, pulling out onto the deserted road. A non-moving surface, and a locked door. That’s all he needed right now.

  Veiled Desire

  Chapter Ten

  Mason’s taste still lingered in Leyla’s mouth.

  She clamped her legs together. Her thong was beyond soaked, her thighs slick with need. She didn’t have a lot of experience with oral sex, but she didn’t ever remember enjoying giving a blowjob quite as much.

  Even when Mason had been directing the show, so to speak, she’d still felt powerful, in control. His obvious arousal had driven her need higher, until she wanted to straddle him like she had this morning. She’d settled for bringing him to completion in her mouth.

  She ran her tongue over her lips and gave the object of her desire a sideways glance. His pants were still unbuttoned and unzipped, but it was dark, so it was difficult to see his cock in its entirety.

  She wanted to get him in the light, in her bed, so she could look her fill. Hers. Her man.

  Mason’s hand clamped over her knee when she shifted. “Stop squirming—it’s killing me. We’ll be home in just a minute.” His fingers started stroking though, making it very difficult not to squirm.

  They were speeding, she realized, and she hoped that no police officer would stop them. One, because it would be a delay, and two, because beyond the fact that Mason’s pants were still unzipped, they were both obviously on their way to a tryst.

  The rest of the ride passed without incident though, and soon they were turning into her driveway. Mason turned off the car and they sat, for a second, in the darkness.

  “I’ll give you two minutes for a head start,” he said softly, and she heard the hiss of his zipper coming up. “After I catch you, you’re going to be busy all night.”

  A shiver of excitement worked its way down her spine and she grabbed her little clutch. She groped for her keys even as she walked as fast as her heels would allow her to her front door.

  It took a solid minute for her to fit the key into the door with her shaking hands. She heard the slight ding of his car door opening behind her, and she fell inside with a muffled laugh as he slammed it. She only got to the darkened living room inside her cramped home when she heard his footsteps. Turning to face him, she tried to look put out instead of excited. “That wasn’t two minutes.”

  “Oops.” A slow smile stretched across his face, and the moonlight coming in through the sliding glass doors turned his hair to silver. His pants were zipped, but unbuttoned and unbelted. “Couldn’t wait. Take your clothes off.”

  Normally, she wouldn’t let a man’s autocratic behavior pass without some comment, but she found that in this sexual situation, his dominance turned her on. He was so relaxed and laid-back usually that this flip side, this evidence that he wanted her so badly that he couldn’t manage casualness, only made her wetter.

  Drawing out the moment, she slipped her cardigan off and turned her back to him. She drew her hair over her shoulder. “Can you get my zipper?” she asked, striving for innocence, but unable to keep the laughter out of her tone.

  Leyla was a bit disappointed when he only touched her enough to lower the zipper. Before facing him again, she released the dress. It fell to her hips and hung there for a minute before she did a quick hip bump and allowed it to slip to the floor.

  He hissed something when she turned around, and she wasn’t sure if it was a swear or a prayer. Though the lights were out, she knew the moon was full enough for him to see every inch of her skin. When she looked down, her skin was covered in an otherworldly blue glow.

  His gaze touched her everywhere. He walked around her in a slow circle, undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt. By the time he stood in front of her, he was only wearing his boxer-briefs. Red, she realized with a smile. “We match.”

  He glanced down at her cherry-colored thong and grinned back. “In more ways than one.” Then he sobered and studied her b
ody. “You are so beautiful. You know that, don’t you?”

  She flushed with pleasure. Leyla had never particularly thought of herself as beautiful, but she was suddenly glad for the few hours a week she spent exercising, if only because it put that look in Mason’s eyes. “Thanks.”

  “It’s true.”

  She quirked a brow at his insistence. “I don’t have a self-esteem problem.”

  “You kept your sweater on all night. You didn’t need to.”

  She fought the smile so he wouldn’t think she was laughing at him. “I’m not entirely comfortable baring it all in public. That’s all. The skirt was daring enough for me tonight.”

  “You seem comfortable baring everything with me.” Mason brushed his fingers over the strings of her thong at her hips and pushed the fabric down. The tiny scrap didn’t even put up a protest, falling down her legs. She shifted and stepped out of it.

  “You—you’re different.” He was. She didn’t mind him seeing her dressed less than modestly. For almost a year now, she’d deigned to wear things she only wore in private around him. It was as if her subconscious knew well before she did that he was entitled to see that much of her body.

  Neither of them spoke for a minute. Mason’s hand slid up her stomach, and he cradled her breast. “Would you call me a sexist if I said that I liked that?”

  “Would you call me a sexist if I told you I didn’t want anyone but me to see you without your clothes on?” she countered.

  “Touché.” Without any further warning, he picked her up.

  “My shoes…”

  “Leave them. They’re sexy.”

  Somewhat used to the ride from this morning’s shenanigans, she merely locked her legs around his waist and twined her arms around his neck, glorying in his strength. She wasn’t very heavy, but he really made it seem effortless.

  Since they were face-to-face anyway, she decided to test his strength by keeping his mouth occupied while he walked. Making a little hungry noise, she locked her lips over his. She didn’t have to coax too much. Within a second, his tongue was rubbing against hers.

  She felt the silkiness of her comforter against her back. Mason drew away from her. Her bedroom was completely dark, the blinds pulled, but Mason reached out and clicked on her bedside lamp. A soft glow lit the room.

  He stood between her legs, which dangled off the bed, looking for all the world like a conquering golden warrior about to claim his prize. With a quick jerk he shoved his boxer-briefs down his legs, and his thick cock rose upward from a nest of blond hair.

  “Bigger than I thought,” she murmured, staring at him. Without conscious thought, she rose on her elbows, ready to fondle him again here where she could see him and touch him at the same time.

  “Nuh-uh.” Mason shook his head and gently pushed her back down. “You touch me, and I won’t last two minutes.” He opened a condom and rolled it over his cock.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “Pants pocket.” He leaned down and sucked each of her nipples in turn, quick, hard tugs that surprised her after his almost languid behavior just a couple of minutes ago. He pulled away and studied the brown tips, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to figure something out. “I know I said I wanted to make love to you. But do you mind if I just fuck you first?”

  Her pussy clenched at the graphic imagery his words brought up. “Yes—oh!”

  He didn’t even wait for her to brace herself or anything else. In one motion, he pulled her farther off the bed and penetrated her.

  They both gasped. He twisted his hips, driving himself deeper inside of her. “Little more…please. Just take the rest.”

  She shook her head, certain he was speaking to her but unable to hear the words past the stretched, invaded feeling of her body. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, and she suddenly regretted buying the small vibrators while she’d been celibate. Had she known what Mason was packing, she might have gone for a bigger model.

  She’d been wet from their foreplay, but not wet enough. Mason stopped above her, his chest working as he tried to suck air in. “You’re not with me.”

  A flash of tenderness shot through her pain. Even though he was so obviously far gone with lust, Mason was thinking of her. “It’s fine.”

  “No.” He withdrew from her body, uttering a groan.

  “Mason, wait—”

  “Hush.” He spread her thighs wider and knelt between them. She had an inkling of what he was going to do, and then his tongue swiped up the slit.

  It didn’t take him long to arouse her beyond belief—she was apparently easy once a man had his tongue inside her. When he started to suckle her clit, lashing it with his tongue, she bowed off the bed and screamed, muffling the noise with her pillow.

  He surged to his feet and yanked the pillow away. “Don’t hide how you feel. I like your screams.” He pushed back inside her.

  The climax he’d given her had softened her enough to receive him easily this time. He pushed forward and groaned when he bottomed out. Catching her under the knees, he pressed her legs slowly back toward her. “Open up, baby. I like seeing those pretty shoes near your ears.” He withdrew and surged back inside her, faster and faster, until he was pounding into her.

  Her head tossed back and forth against the bed. There was nothing to brace herself against, nowhere to hide from the frustration welling low in her belly.

  He gave one last thrust and a loud shout, and she felt the muted heat of his semen through his condom. The pure eroticism of Mason coming within her pushed her over the edge just as he collapsed against her. He made a sound suspiciously close to a whimper as her walls milked his softening cock.

  He didn’t linger against her for long, much to Leyla’s disappointment. He hushed her when she made a protesting noise, lowered her legs and withdrew from her body.

  She couldn’t move; she felt overwhelmed, conquered and exhausted. All she could do was lie there while she listened to him pad to the bathroom. There was a flush, the running of water, the click of the bathroom light switch.

  He came back to her and easily picked her up, pulled back the covers and deposited her between the sheets. After turning off the bedside lamp, he crawled in next to her, curling his body around hers. It was as if they’d been sleeping together for years; her body fit perfectly into his.

  He stroked one hand over her hair and pressed a light kiss against her temple. His voice was just a puff of air against her ear. “Sleep.”

  Exhausted, she did.

  Veiled Desire

  Chapter Eleven

  “What are you putting in my mouth?”

  “Honey, what are you worried about? We both know you like everything I do to that mouth of yours.”

  She sniffed. “You’re getting cocky, Barrett.”

  “Can’t help it, Karimi. You make me that way. Now open up. And keep your eyes shut.”

  Leyla opened her mouth and closed it over the fork Mason guided inside. Her entire face melted in pleasure and she moaned before opening her eyes. “Triple-chocolate cheesecake. I was just thinking of this at work.”

  “Yeah? And here I thought you were thinking of me.”

  “I was comparing you to the cheesecake.”

  Mason squinted at her and forked up another bite of the large piece he’d cut. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

  “Very good.” She made a little hum of pleasure as she ate that had his well-used cock twitching against his thigh.

  He didn’t know exactly what time it was, except that the sky was still dark outside. They’d dozed for an hour or so, made love softly and slowly like he’d promised her, and then dozed some more. He’d woken up just to run over to his place and pick up the cheesecake he’d bought the day before. Of course when he’d bought it, he’d only dreamed that they’d be sharing it in her bed.

  “When did you know?”

  He swallowed the bite in his mouth, savoring the taste of chocolate. “Know what?”

&nb
sp; Her gaze was very direct. “That you wanted me.”

  Despite his declaration, she was careful to avoid using the L word, and he didn’t hold it against her. He’d give her time. Not much, knowing him, but he’d try.

  “Ah, well, you see…it all started when you decided to parade around in front of me in this teeny-tiny red bikini.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “At the beach? Last Labor Day?”

  “Yup. I saw you in that thing, and I couldn’t get my eyes off of you. I couldn’t figure out where that body had come from, and why I suddenly wanted to lay you down in the sand and lick you from head to toe.”

  “Huh. And here I was thinking you just found yourself drawn to my sparkling personality and wit. Instead, it was ogling me in a bikini that was your turning point. Nice.”

  “Okay Peeping Jane. Who was ogling me through my windows? I just looked at you on a public beach. You violated my privacy.”

  “I’ll have you know that I was feeling things for you way before last week.”

  “Yeah? And it was all purely spiritual, I bet.” He watched her with a wicked smile. “You never once eyed my ass.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Never.”

  “Yeah, right. I guess we can see who’s the honest one here.” He gently pushed her back against the mound of pillows. “Lie back. I’m hungry.”

  “Hungry for the cheesecake…or me?” Her smile was knowing. He loved that she didn’t have a lot of shyness. When Leyla decided to get involved with a man, she didn’t hold much back.

  “Both.” He took a spoonful of the cheesecake and delicately painted one nipple with the dessert. She gasped, either at the act or the coolness of the cake, he wasn’t sure. After giving the same treatment to the other nipple, he bent down and studied his handiwork.

  The brown tips of her breasts were barely visible through the chocolate of the cheesecake. He set about clearing the mess he’d made, first taking a few licks as if he were savoring an ice cream cone, and then enclosing each nipple in his mouth and sucking. Her hand threaded through his hair, tugging at the strands.