Hard Time by Kristen Luciani
Title: Hard Time
Author: Kristen Luciani
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Kristen Luciani is a self-proclaimed momtrepreneur, beauty product junkie, and bestselling romance author with a penchant for stilettos, Silicon Valley, plunging necklines and grapefruit martinis. As a deep-rooted romantic who prefers juicy drama to fill the lives of anyone other than her, she tried her hand at creating a world of enchantment, sensuality, and intrigue, finally uncovering her true passion. No pun intended…
He swipes his key and in we go. I follow him into the massive space, deeply entranced by the heady scent surrounding him. I inhale his musky cologne, and the clouds in my mind separate for a brief moment. He shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it onto a chair as he walks over to the phone. I wait for him to move out of the way so I can call, but he turns suddenly, his eyes fixed on mine. I swallow hard past the lump lodged in my throat. His gaze heats every inch of my body from the inside out. A tiny spark in my belly ignites and I lunge for him, pressing my lips to his scotch-tinged ones.
He pulls me close, wrapping his strong arms around me. His fingertips press into the small of my back, and my legs weaken as his cock hardens against me. Good God, I need this. I drink him in, our tongues coiling with need – hot, hungry, and desperate.
Wait! This is crazy!
My body melts into him, hands tangling in his hair as his tongue plunders my needy mouth.
No. Stop thinking, just kiss him. Mm, let him make you feel like you’ve never ever felt before…
Those hands, oh God, they’re so devilish, roaming over my ass and down to my thighs.
He’s going to be family in a few weeks. He’s as old as Dad.
Oh shit. Guess I’m going to hell.
I pull away, gasping for air. “Stop, I can’t…we shouldn’t…
But Jeff says nothing. It seems like my mind is the one doing all the talking.
His eyes are dark with lust, but there’s an amused twinkle in the depths. He starts unbuttoning his shirt, never breaking his gaze. My breath hitches as he slides it off. Those abs. Jesus, they’re amazing. I want to touch. I need to feel. My fingers twitch for a chance to trace the outline. His fingers move to his belt buckle, the muscles in his biceps flexing as he unfastens the belt and pulls it off.
Breathing is just about impossible at this point. This man, that body, fuck the consequences. I need this. Isn’t alcohol supposed to silence the stupid voices? Make me do things that I know I shouldn’t, but that will feel so good I don’t care?
Nothing. No response. My brain has finally turned to mush. Everything is muted. Finally.
“Do you want to make that call now?” The corners of his lips turn upward as he unhooks his pants, so slowly and deliberately. He’s making me crazy right now. And I’m pretty sure he loves watching me watching him. Sick fuck.
Screw it. “No!” I launch myself against him once again, attacking his mouth while his fingers work the zipper of my dress. He slides the straps off my shoulders, never breaking the spell that has me so captivated, and pushes it to the floor, where it pools at my feet. I step out of the dress, but I leave on the heels. Every guy wants to fuck a woman in heels and nothing else. His warm hands massage the places that have been neglected for far too long, and my legs turn to Jell-O. He unhooks my strapless bra with the flick of his fingers, letting it fall to the floor. I gasp when the cool air hits my bare breasts. Then the moaning starts, and dammit if I can help it.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Ariana,” he growls, flicking one of my nipples, the motion firing every single nerve. I all but lose it from his hands alone. Holy crap. Then those delicious lips move away from mine, leaving me desperate for air from a kiss so deep, so long, so needy, that it ruins me for any other. Yes, it was that intense, and no, I’m not exaggerating. Buzzed as I am, I will remember every dirty, salacious detail, and will replay them all over and over and over.
He dips his head, taking my breast into his mouth, his tongue and teeth working the taut pink bud. It’s gentle at first, but then it gets more harsh. And it makes me wet, so damned wet. Nipple play is definitely a hot button for me. My knees buckle as he kneads my flesh with those strong hands, and then his mouth is on a determined path to something definitively more naughty. My stomach clenches. He lowers himself to his knees, looping his fingers into the elastic G-string and pulls it away from my body. His tongue scorches a path to my abdomen and then beyond.
I rake my fingers through his hair, gripping tightly as his tongue teases my slit, probing the soft folds. My chest heaves as breaths come fast and furious. He nips my clit with his teeth then follows with long strokes that have me ready to collapse on the carpet, writhing with shockwaves coursing through my body. All from the sensations that his masterful tongue has stirred up inside of me.
My heart flutters. Holy fuck, this can only get better.
I press his head against me, my hands urging him to probe deeper. And he takes direction well, very well.
This is wrong. So wrong.
His tongue flicks my now-swollen clit, hands gripping my ass cheeks for leverage. He digs his fingertips into my flesh, making me yelp. Stroking and suckling, the alternating motions making my toes curl inside my heels. I grab his shoulders to steady myself, my body shuddering from the tingles that have since morphed into full-on shock waves crashing over me.
“Oh my God, Jeff,” I whimper.
He wraps his arms around my waist, trailing his fingers up my torso. He rises slowly, still holding me close. “I want you, Ariana.” One hand creeps back down to my quivering pussy and he plunges into me with two thick fingers, eliciting a loud gasp from me. “I want this. Now.” A seductive smirk lifts his lips. “And don’t take off those shoes.”
I nod, breathless, scared, and excited all at the same time. I push his pants and boxers to his ankles and he kicks them away. His cock is hard as an iron fucking rod and so thick, I’m afraid he might split me like a log. Not that I’m complaining. I swallow hard and lick the palm of my hand before gripping him, working his dick with long, hard strokes. Jesus, it turns out he wasn’t even fully hard before. I bite my lip to keep from crying out with glee.
Oh, the anticipation.
“You’re so fucking bad,” he murmurs against my ear, still finger fucking me. “I’m gonna fuck you like the bad girl you are. And I know you want me to. You’re so wet. I think you like being a bad girl. Yeah, you do. I can feel it every time I press into you. I want to feel you all over my dick.”
I’ve never been so turned on. I don’t usually handle the dirty talk too well. Maybe because the tools I’ve been with have never done it right. They sure as shit never made me come this hard from the promise of what’s to come…namely, me.
But Jeff is a fucking pro, and he can feel the impact he’s having on my body. He knows just how to press my buttons; buttons I didn’t even know I had.
I drop to my knees because my legs are just about to give out. I squeeze his dick and stroke it once more before taking it into my mouth. He lets out a low growl, his fingers tangled in my hair, thrusting into my mouth. He’s so big, he hits the back of my throat without too much movement. My gag reflex kicks in, but I squeeze my eyes shut. I need to taste him, need to feel his cock throb as I suck it…just for a minute, before he plunges inside of me and destroys the chances that any poor suckers in the future have with me.
I drag my tongue up and down the shaft, cupping his balls with one hand, gripping his ass with the other. But Jeff doesn’t want my mouth anymore.
His fingers move from the back of my head and tighten around my shoulders, urging me upward. His cock slips from my swollen lips and I rise to meet his gaze; the one that incinerates my insides. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and my pussy throbs. I can’t wait another second, or I might spontaneously combust right here. And that would be a travesty because I wouldn’t get to experience what’s sure to be the most amazing lay of my entire life, past and future.
He reaches over for his overnight bag and fumbles around, pulling out a condom. Tearing off a corner with his teeth, he takes it out and rolls it onto his dick. I bite my lower lip. I know this whole show has taken about five seconds, but it feels like hours are creeping by before his body is plastered against mine again.
I want to sing with joy when he eases me back onto the plush mattress, his lips so soft and sensual. His hand reaches around my torso, caressing the small of my back as he pushes into me, inch by glorious inch. Oh.My.God. His perfect cock fills my pussy, stretching me, forcing me to take him all in. I clamp my muscles, pulling him deeper, and he lets out a low groan against my hair.
Each thrust comes miraculously closer and closer to my spot. His lips are back on my neck, teasing the area behind my ear that drives me insane. My chest heaves against him, and I squeeze with all my might. I never want this to end, but I am desperate, so desperate for release. Our bodies rock against each other in perfect rhythm, both of us close to the edge. His fingers press into my hips as the movements intensify. And that’s when the magic happens…the point where I can’t remember my own name or what planet I live on, when my mind becomes a blank canvas splashed with vibrant colors, and blinding streams of white light flash across my eyes. My body shakes as the tingling that began in the pit of my belly erupts into an unparalleled explosion, firing into every single nerve ending. I’ve never felt more alive in my life.
Nor have I ever been so fucked, figuratively and literally.