No Strings Read online

Page 5


  The door clicked shut behind them and now it was just her and Mr. X. It was then she realized she didn’t really know his name, didn’t know anything about him, and yet here she was, pants undone, alone with him in his hotel room, his fingers carrying her scent.

  Could she really do this? He took off his own shirt, and she was amazed by his chest, chiseled with muscle. Her belly grew warmer. Then, he took a step toward her, wordlessly, and tugged at her sweater. She lifted her arms, unable to resist him and her top came off.

  “I—I’ve never done this before...with a stranger, I mean,” she murmured. He nibbled her nipple, the flick of teeth on the soft skin making her shiver. “This is... I mean, this is crazy. I don’t usually do this.”

  He straightened. A lazy grin spread across his handsome face, warming up his squared off jaw. “Even good girls should be bad, once in a while.”

  She felt his hands on her jeans, gently tugging them downward. He walked her a step backward and she sat on the edge of the bed, her jeans around her knees. He knelt and pulled them off, as he took in her bare skin. He laid kisses on her bare legs.

  She was a good girl. She never did this kind of thing.

  “I just can’t believe...” She wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten here this fast, how she’d met a man and within an hour, was letting him see her everything. To put his hands and his mouth on her body. “I just... I don’t know anything about you.”

  “You having second thoughts?” He paused, hazel eyes fixing her in a locked stare.

  “No,” she said. No, she wanted him. She did.

  He pressed his hard, muscled chest against hers, dipping his face so close their noses nearly touched. “And all you need to know about me is this,” he promised. She felt heat rise in her very core. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. And, God, did she want him. She’d wanted this the moment they’d met in the hotel bar an hour ago. She’d decided then in that split second to let him do what he wanted. She was willing.

  “You can tell me whatever you want me to do to you. I want you to tell me.”

  She sucked in a breath and her knees trembled slightly. She didn’t have to be a good girl. Not with him. She could be bad. Very, very bad. She could do whatever she wanted. She could let him do...whatever he wanted.

  “Are you ready for the night of your life?” he growled in her ear, as he slipped his hand past the thin fabric of her lace thong, his fingers finding her soft center. “Well, well,” he murmured, appreciative. “You’re more than ready.”

  Then, he smiled at her, putting her at ease. He was so handsome, so warm. Did it matter what his name was? Or that she didn’t know where he lived? Or...anything at all about him. He was a walking puzzle piece, and she wasn’t sure where he fit. But the attraction between them was undeniable.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, as he pulled her closer to him, kissing her once more. She kissed him back, feeling the heat once more in her belly.

  “So smooth,” he said, as he grasped her knees, sliding his hands up the top of her thighs. Then he leaned over her and trailed a line of seductive kisses down the tops of her breasts making her shudder. He pressed his lips gently, almost reverently against her skin, as if worshipping every inch of her. She couldn’t help it. She felt like a queen.

  Then he moved backward, straightening. She leaned forward and touched his bare chest, so smooth, so...fit. He sucked in a breath as she leaned forward and gently laid a kiss between his brown nipples.

  He groaned, throwing his own shirt to the ground while she explored the ridges of his abs. So tight, she thought, so... solid. He put his hands in her hair, and she glanced up at him. He knelt down, putting his hands on her knees once more.

  “I’m going to make you come now.” The promise sent a thrill through her as the breath caught in her throat. He gently moved her knees apart, and she lay back on her elbows, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m going to make you come again and again.”

  She believed him, as he laid a gentle kiss on the inside of her thigh. Then, suddenly, she knew what he intended. She wanted to tell him...wait... because going down...well, she felt self-conscious a little. What if she smelled? What if he didn’t like how she tasted? And, Devin...well, Devin flat-out refused to do it.

  He squeezed her inner thigh.

  “I want to taste you,” he said. “I want to worship you. Will you let me?”

  His declaration sent a thrill through her. He didn’t mind doing this. No, he wanted to do it. Worship her? Yes, please. She nodded, frozen by his determined gaze.

  He moved upward, gently, teasing kisses leading a trail straight to her center. She arched her back, at once wanting and not wanting him to do what he promised—she suddenly felt self-conscious. Was her shower still good from earlier? Had the wax job she’d gotten still held? All those busy, insecure thoughts ran through her mind.

  Then, he kissed her... there. Laid his lips on her most delicate part, his tongue flicking outward in a gentle exploration. The minute his tongue touched her, she felt white-hot molten heat roll through her.

  “Oh,” she moaned, her senses overtaken by his warmth. He held his tongue there, and the warm wetness overtook her. He was... He was good at this. She’d never had someone... so good at this. Instantly, she felt her arousal grow, her want for him. The desire built as he worked, teasing her at first, gently, with little flicks of his tongue.

  He lifted his head a moment. “You taste so...amazing,” he murmured. “God, Emma,” he groaned as he pleasured her, lapping deeper into her center, devouring her. He slipped a finger inside her, tickling her, teasing her, caressing all those nerve endings inside. She’d never felt so wanted... so desired. Emma arched her back, moved into his hungry mouth and then suddenly she was on the edge of orgasm, every muscle in her body tensed. This never happened so quickly... Never... And then she was over the edge, consumed by Mr. X’s talented tongue, her body rippling with pleasure as she cried out. The release took them both by surprise. She glanced down at him. This man whom she’d known just an hour, had just given her one of the best orgasms of her life.

  “You sure are talented, Mr. X,” she breathed, as her heart rate began to return to normal.

  “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” he promised. She felt her body come to life once more. Hungry again, as if this first climax was a simple appetizer, something to curb her appetite which only seemed to grow. He anticipated her every want, every need, and his gentle touch set her skin on fire.

  Now it was her turn. She sat up, and grabbed his belt loop, tugging him closer. She unzipped his pants and released him, closing her hands around him, amazed at his size. She’d never seen one so...big. She worked him with both hands as he leaned into her touch, letting out a small moan, and then she leaned over and put the tip of him in her mouth, teasing him with her tongue and he clutched at her shoulders, his entire body tensing and she knew she had him, knew she was driving him as crazy as he’d driven her. The power made her light-headed, and she felt even bolder. She worked him deeper and he ran his hand down her back. He pulled her up then and kissed her with an open mouth, his tongue urgently meeting hers in a primitive dance. She felt all her baser instincts take over. This was pure lust, amazing, animal lust. She’d never wanted a man so badly as in this moment.

  He pulled away from her in that moment. “What do you want, Emma?”

  She felt dazed, off-center. “I want you to fuck me.” The words came out low, hoarse. She’d never said that out loud to anyone before.

  A knowing smile played at the corners of his mouth, as he reached out and gave her nipple a teasing little pinch. It sent a shiver of delight through her. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, once, mouth open, her whole body feeling like one quivering nerve.

  He reached for a condom from his discarded jeans then and ripped the foil open easily. Then he was rolling it down his ample
self, which stood ready to take her in the basest way possible.

  CHAPTER SIX

  FOR XAVIER, EVERY new woman was a gift, and yet, he couldn’t remember feeling this kind of eagerness before. From the moment they met, he knew she’d be amazing, and here she was, beautifully naked in front of him, offering herself up in the most vulnerable way. He wanted her. Badly. He’d wanted her the moment he’d laid eyes on her at the bar, and now, here she was, giving herself to him. He’d always been a man to appreciate all kinds of women: short, tall, ample-chested, flat-chested, he enjoyed them all. But Emma was different somehow, just the best combination of curve and muscle, and her lean, lithe, perfectly proportioned body just screamed playground.

  Her legs parted for him and he felt a ripple of desire as he teased her with just the head, running it around her wetness, as she lifted her pelvis up to meet him.

  “Don’t tease me,” she cried, which made him want to tease her all the more, push her to the very edge of sanity. She spread her legs wider, willing him inside her, making him feel giddy. He pushed inside her a single centimeter and then withdrew.

  “Oh!” she cried, grasping at him.

  He teased her a bit further, maddeningly, as she clutched at his arms, frustration growing on her face.

  “More,” she cried, when he gave her just his full tip.

  When she was almost at her wit’s end, then he pushed into her tight center, a gasp escaping both their lips as he moved in on top of her, her warm, soft breasts pressing against him. He almost wanted to come right there, she felt so amazing. Was there anything better than this moment? This moment when he entered a woman for the first time? Xavier didn’t know it.

  “Is this what you wanted?” he murmured in her ear.

  “Yes,” she croaked, her voice dry. “Yes.”

  And he worked her harder, as her hips met his. He wanted to come at every moment. She was beyond delicious. Everything about her overwhelmed his senses. The smell of her. The taste of her. The feel of her. Xavier had been with many women in his life, and he appreciated them all, but Emma.... Emma just felt special. Not only was she gorgeous, but he’d never been with a woman so at odds with herself. In the bar, she’d been buttoned-up, conservative, even, he thought, on the verge of leaving, but once he’d gotten her into his hotel room, she’d turned into someone else: a woman overcome by desire and want, not caring about anything but satisfaction. Her passion ran deep, and the dichotomy thrilled him. He needed to have her in every way possible.

  He withdrew, and turned her over so she was on her hands and knees in front of him, her amazing ass on display, her shell-pink lips exposed. He took her then from behind, enjoying her in the most primal of ways. He licked his finger then and reached around and touched her. She threw her head back and moaned, moving against him as he pushed deeper inside her. God, she was so tight. Amazingly tight. He feared he wouldn’t be able to hold it, and then, she gave a hoarse shout as she came, tightening even more around him in spasms of pleasure. He grasped her hips then, thrusting slowly and deeply as she rode the waves of her climax. He loved making this woman come.

  He withdrew and rolled her over, marveling at her flushed face. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. He dipped down and put a swollen pink nipple in his mouth. She groaned. He flicked his tongue, and she moaned again. He ran his teeth along her nipple and she shuddered beneath him. He went to the other nipple, running his teeth over the edge ever so softly.

  “Oh, God,” she murmured, her nipples standing at complete attention, as he nuzzled one breast. She watched him. “W-what is it that you’d want? To ask a stranger...”

  Xavier smiled. There were so many things. So many things he’d asked women to do for him. But he knew exactly what he wanted her to do.

  Xavier pulled her to the edge of the bed then, standing in front of her.

  He entered her once more, this time with her flat on her back, knees up. She gasped as she took the full length of him.

  “I want you to touch yourself,” he said. “I want to watch you.”

  Emma hesitated ever so slightly, but then, as he watched, her hand snaked downward. Gently, she touched her self, delicately at first. Her eyes slid shut.

  “No,” he commanded. “Watch me, Emma. Watch me.”

  Her eyes flicked open and met his gaze. He saw her eyes widen as she brought herself closer to a third time, and he could feel her grow wetter. What he wanted was to watch her face as she came, that beautiful face. It was the most vulnerable a person could be, and he wanted to see it. Most women couldn’t do it: most women looked away. Would Emma be able to hold eye contact?

  He moved faster, deeper, never breaking eye contact. She held his, her blue eyes turning bluer as the redness crept up her cheek.

  “That’s it,” he coaxed her. “Come for me.”

  Her blue eyes grew more urgent then with need, and as he thrust deeper, suddenly, her whole body tensed. Her toes curled beside him, and then, eyes never leaving his, she dissolved, the climax taking her past the edge, tumbling her into oblivion. Her eyes turned a brilliant blue as they held his, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life: the raw vulnerability of this beautiful woman as she came. Then, instantly, he poured himself inside her in a rush of nearly unbearable pleasure. She’d pulled it out of him, demanded it, and he’d given it to her.

  * * *

  They didn’t get much sleep. Xavier didn’t sleep at all, truth be told. He held this beautiful woman in his arms, cradling her naked against him beneath the thin cotton sheet of the hotel bed. He breathed in her scent: hints of earthiness and the fresh, bright smell of lavender shampoo in her hair. They’d ended the night in the shower, where he’d gently washed every amazing curve, the suds slipping down her taut body in all the right places. He’d worked up the lather, but she’d been the one to turn the tables on him. She’d gotten on her knees and taken him in her mouth, making him come one last mind-blowing time. Before that, they’d gone twice more that evening, trying out almost every position he could think of, as he worked hard to sate his growing desire for her. Normally, by now in a Nost tryst, he’d tire, begin to have his fill, start planning his getaway, but Emma was different. Every time she climaxed, every time she brought him over the edge, she seemed to grow more beautiful. Every time they joined together, the experience felt brand new, his exploration of her seemed never to grow dull. They fit together in a way that took him by surprise. They moved together like a couple who’d known each other for years: she seemed to anticipate his every want. Even now, as she lay sleeping against him, he felt his groin stirring. A full night and usually he was spent, drained, done for, but his body still wanted her in the most animalistic way. Was this what it meant to be a slave to passion?

  Or...a slave to love?

  Suddenly, he remembered something his father had told him: No man can resist the woman he loves. He shook the thought from his head. He hadn’t thought about his father—or his troubled mother—for years. Why now?

  Was it Emma? Had she somehow dredged up memories he thought long buried?

  Was this more than sex? It felt like...more.

  Emma just gave all of herself. Even now, as she slept pressed against him, she held nothing back. Most women were careful. Most women kept a part of themselves hidden away from him. Most women... No, nearly all women, couldn’t look him in the eye when they came—perhaps too embarrassed, or too unwilling to show just how vulnerable they could be. Emma let herself be seen. She’d been so open and honest, she’d laid herself completely bare, and, somehow, that got to him. She’d given him a gift, a precious gift.

  So that meant he’d fall in love?

  He pressed his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to fall for this woman. He couldn’t. He thought of Sasha, of her dark, penetrating eyes and the curves that didn’t quit. He’d been a slave to her, and she’d crushed his heart. Left him broken and
helpless. He still remembered the gut-punch he’d felt the day he’d discovered the text messages, the half-naked pictures she’d sent to another man, the declaration of how she couldn’t wait to have him inside her. Sasha had lived a double life, and the worst part was that he’d failed her. He’d failed to satisfy her. She’d gone elsewhere, looking for the pleasure he apparently couldn’t give her. He’d known that their sex life had become a bit stale. He thought it was what naturally happened in a long-term relationship. They’d become too used to each other, too familiar, and he hadn’t known they had to break out of that.

  Sasha had...by seeking attention elsewhere.

  The memories still hurt, like little razor blades through his mind. He wasn’t even sure he could love another woman again, could leave himself so open to hurt. He’d built an emotional wall so thick and tall, he wasn’t even sure how to get through it anymore. Yet, she had, a voice whispered in his mind. She’s made a crack in that wall.

  No. He’d have to fortify it again.

  She murmured and snuggled into him, and his body responded as he cradled her against him. He wasn’t sure he wanted this to end. Wasn’t sure he wanted to say goodbye to her.

  In another twelve hours, her profile will be hidden from me, a small, urgent voice told him. But then, the decision will be made for me, he thought. He felt both a smidgen of relief and a stab of panic but decided that it would be best to let the app take care of this for him. If he saw too much more of her, he would fall for her. Of this, he was certain, and then what? He knew what happened to all long-term relationships: the sex died, the desire died, and then came betrayal and heartbreak. It just wasn’t feasible to keep the passion alive. He thought of Sasha. At this point, could he really blame her? She’d cheated first, but wouldn’t he have eventually? Human beings need passion.