Vivian Arend - High Risk

“You’re beautiful. So strong, so powerful.” Becki undid the button on her pants as she smiled in response to his comment. He jerked her to a stop with a single word. “Wait.”

One brow rose. “I assumed you wanted me naked.”

“Don’t assume.” He stood and stepped in close enough that she could touch him without leaving her space on the floor. “My turn. Take off my shirt.”

She’d undressed him before, days earlier. That time she’d been blindfolded and he’d watched her fingers tremble as she moved. As she touched.

Now she stroked him with her gaze as well as her touch, and he hadn’t been prepared for how powerful the effect would be. Becki undid his belt, popped his button. Lowered the top notches of his zipper. That freed room for her to slip her hands under his T-shirt, fingertips cool against his heated skin. She stared into his eyes as she passed over his chest, thumbs skimming his nipples. When she pressed closer so she could reach behind him he took a deep breath, the seductive scent of her body lotion teasing his senses.

This playtime might be about what she needed, but damn if he wasn’t going to enjoy it as well.

It was like being drugged. The edge blurred between reality and fantasy, and Becki embraced the sensation fully, planning to savour every second.

She caught hold of the bottom of his shirt in the back and tugged it upward. “Lean over,” she ordered, and he went willingly, bending and extending his arms over his head so she could drag the fabric all the way off.

Then she wasn’t sure where to look as he straightened. He’d mentioned the candlelight, and wow—he wasn’t kidding how the flickering glow made a huge impact on her senses. It was better than examining Greek statues in a museum. Every muscle was showcased in bold relief. The firm cuts defining his chest; the rigid lines that separated his lower abdomen into neatly packaged squares.

Becki peeked upward to discover that his eyes were still fixated on hers. Something about his complete attention made her cheeks flush with heat even as a deep need throbbed inside. Between her legs she grew wet, longing for more than glances and slow seduction.

She lifted his shirt, watching to see if he’d change his focus. The shirt slipped from her fingers to land on top of her abandoned clothes.

His gaze never flickered off her face, and the delicious sense of being totally enveloped by him increased. Becki eased back on her heels and allowed her hands to fall by her sides. Whatever was happening tonight, she would embrace it fully. If he wanted her to move, she’d assume he’d tell her so.

Marcus cupped her chin in his fingers and nodded. “Yes. Oh, yes, now you have it. Take off your pants, and when you’re done I’ll tell you what to do next.”

His declaration stroked her like a physical brush. She wanted to rush, to give in to the urgency to strip everything off and fall to the next task, but his voice beguiled her. Eased her. She slipped open the button and the zipper on her slacks and pushed them off her hips. They bunched around her ankles, and she was surprised when he held out his arm to her. She clutched his elbow tightly and, instead of bending to free herself, stepped forward out of the material.

The move brought them skin to skin, the thin fabric of her bra the only barrier between them.

“My jeans now, and everything else. Strip me, sweet Becki.”

His endearment made a shiver race up her spine. “I love how you say my name. Like I’m delicious, and you can’t get enough of me.”

She put her hands to his zipper and finished the task of lowering it. The clicking of the teeth separating echoed loudly in the hushed room. Smoothing her hands over his hips, pushing the material down, she knelt, keeping in contact with his body at all times. It would have been a moment’s work to remove his socks along with the jeans, but she hesitated. Drew out the motion. Let him balance on one foot then the other with her shoulder as an anchor as she removed every stitch of clothing from him.

She deliberately stayed on her knees as she tugged his briefs off, his erection snapping up between them as soon as she’d freed it from the confines of the fabric. The hard length rose from the dark curls at his groin, and she wanted to touch, to taste, but first, she waited.

The heat from the airtight stove draped around her like a blanket, the soft rug cushioning her from the hardwood floorboards. She rested on her heels and stared at his naked magnificence.

Waiting.

Marcus hadn’t once looked away. Every time she’d lowered her gaze to concentrate on her task, she’d returned to his face and discovered him watching. Tenderness in his expression. Hunger.

His call. His command. Tonight was his game, and she was eager to play it. All worries, concerns, dread had vanished to be replaced with nothing but rising passion and full concentration on this man.

“Touch me.” The words rasped out, barely audible. “Touch me, everywhere. At your pleasure. How you want. No demands, no agenda.”

His order wasn’t what she’d expected. She sat dumbfounded for a moment, recalibrating her brain.

He smiled, that corner teasing upward. The familiar expression gave her something to cling to as she switched gears. He shifted slightly on his feet, muscles flexing as he moved, and Becki stared mesmerized.

Well, now. Anything she wanted—his demand might not be expected, but wasn’t it exactly what she’d been wanting?

She got to one knee, moving upright to rest her palms against the outside of his thighs. She explored, stroked. Brushed the wiry hair on his solid thighs and skimmed past his hips. Moved into position to plant a kiss on that band of muscle that wrapped along the sides of his torso—the Adonis line. A perfect place to press her lips and tease with her tongue. Small circles over his skin, breathing deeply to take in the scent of him—masculine, addictive.

She moved around his cock. The neglect not intended to torment him, but because he’d said to touch him everywhere. If she gave in already to her desire to adore his cock, she’d stop without tending to everything else she wanted to enjoy. His chest beckoned, and she rose higher to stroke and smooth the firm skin, his dusting of hair tickling her palms.

Becki gazed into his face, her hands cupping his cheeks briefly before threading her fingers through his hair. He smiled but didn’t speak.

“I like this game,” she whispered.

His eyes flashed, but he stayed in one spot, allowing her control. She strolled behind him, impatient for more muscles to caress, his firm butt cheeks to admire with her fingertips. She was surprised her thorough examination wasn’t driving him crazy as she worked him over, reading every inch like Braille.

No agenda—that was what he’d said—but suddenly there was one.

She wanted to give to him. Needed to share what she was feeling with him. It took a split second to peel off her panties and bra and toss them behind her. She stepped against his body, sighing as the warmth of his back connected with her torso. Her breasts pressed tight to him, she eased her fingers around his waist, stroking that wonderful band of muscle again, this time from behind.

When she curled her finger over his erection it was the first time since she’d begun she felt a reaction. Only because they were so close together did she know that her touch caused him to take a deep shaky breath.

She fisted him, pumping slowly, moving with caution. Cupping her hand over the head to find the moisture gathered there and spread it on her palm. His seed acted as a lubricant, but it wasn’t enough. She licked her fingers, saliva coating her in exchange for the burst of his taste that came as her tongue made contact with his seed.

Then she returned to the task at hand. Slow, even pumps, a pause to run her fingers over his sac, fingertips rolling his balls delicately. When she grasped him the next time, he countered, pushing into her hand, increasing her tempo. Becki laid her cheek against his back and worked as directed until he quivered in her embrace, torso shuddering as he came, liquid spurting over her fingers as she caught what she could.

She felt strangely satisfied. Without a climax, without a touch, but endorphins were floating through her veins all the same.

Marcus knelt briefly and scooped up his shirt, using the fabric to wipe her hand dry. Then he turned.

She wasn’t sure what her expression would reveal. Contentment? Hopefully not gloating, but she was far too satisfied by what she’d accomplished to be able to easily explain herself. Marcus pushed her hair back, his gaze darting over her face. Then he nodded. Once.

As he breathed slowly, his gaze finally moved down to trace over her body. The fire was nearly out, the candles around the room flickering with their last gasps. Still, enough of the pale yellow light remained to highlight her nakedness.

“My turn,” he declared. “My turn to touch you everywhere. With my fingers, my tongue. My cock. Until I’ve pushed you past the brink again and again.”

Her body quivered in response. To his words? Or to the thought of what was about to happen?

He offered his hand and she took it, surprised again when he brought her around the room and they extinguished the candles one at a time. When he escorted her through the bedroom door, the only light remaining was the pale flicker of red and gold through the glass of the stove.

Darkness filled the space. She might have been blindfolded again for how little she could see. Marcus didn’t seem to have any troubles guiding her to the end of the bed and pushing her back until she sat.

“Stay here,” he ordered.

This room wasn’t as warm as the living area, the heat from the fire lingering in the outside room and leaving a chill in the air. A match snapped, the instant flash of light bouncing off the cabin wall where Marcus brought the stick to the candlewick. The faint scent of sulfur carried back to her as Becki waited, curling up on the soft quilt covering the mattress.

Two candles—three. Once he had a light source on every wall, he turned back to face her and her heart skipped.

So beautiful. His rugged masculinity showcased in the shadows dancing over him. He held a casual stance for a moment as he looked her over as well, giving her time to admire him.

Time to ache for him to move and do as he’d promised in the other room.

She wiggled to her knees and smoothed her hands up her body, cupping her breasts as she stared at him. His cock jerked, the semi-aroused length hardening again.

“I never told you to touch yourself,” Marcus warned.

“I’m being innovative and trying to anticipate.” She twirled the tiny rings and moaned happily. “Of course, if there’s something else you’d like me to do . . .”

Marcus stalked to the bed, and suddenly she was on her back with him over her, pinned in place with his weight, his mouth ravishing hers. She lifted her arms around his neck and held on for the ride, loving the near frantic thrusts of his tongue, the way his breathing skipped as he hauled their mouths apart to plant kisses down the length of her throat.

When he caught hold of her breast with his right hand, Becki sighed, widening her legs to allow his hips to fall to the mattress. He licked and sucked, playing with the ring, using his teeth just to the edge of pain. One side, the other, desperate hunger in his moves.

That he was reduced to such passion for her—priceless. She could only wonder and take it in. The way he made every inch of her tingle, sharp bolts of pleasure from his mouth connecting through her nipples to tug at her core. She was so wet between her legs, so wanting to have him touch her.

Yet when he moved lower, she regretted he’d gone. “No . . .”

Marcus laughed softly. “Stop complaining. Touch your breasts how you like it—I have something else to deal with right now.”

Oh God. She’d thought she was wet before? Marcus pushed her thighs wider and covered her with his mouth. No slow approach. No more warning than shifting his position and he was driving her mad. Tongue connecting with her clit, driving into her deep as he rolled one thigh up and out to give himself more room to work.

She’d been primed before. Aching from teasing him and his breast play. The first climax hit her suddenly—shocking. Hard. Made her shake and gasp for air. When he didn’t slow, she ignored her tingling breasts and drove her fingers into his hair.