Authors: Liz Matis
His comments were tinted with sarcasm hoping to get a rise out her. In those moments she was the most real with him. When she lost her control he saw the real Victoria—vulnerable and unsure.
The taxi pulled up to the curb and Russ jumped out to open her door before she could tell him not to bother. He reached for her hand and she slipped him a key as she got out.
“So can I expect you?” Victoria bit her lip.
The key to her place burned in his hand like a brand. The key exchange was considered a major step in a relationship, wasn’t it? Unsure they even had a ‘relationship,’ Russ didn’t know what to think. Maybe the next morning she’d say ‘on your way out leave the key on the nightstand right next to the vibrator.’ But one part of his anatomy could care less either way. So there was only one answer. “Abso-bloody-lutely.”
Her laughter lit the air. He did that. Russ could make her smile, make her laugh, and make her come with wild abandon. Knowing he was the only man who could, Russ threw the key up in the air and then snatched it back, grinning like the fool that he was.
Russ climbed back in the cab unsure what to do with the next few hours. It would be wise to catch a couple of hours of sleep so he could keep Victoria up all night. Though he doubted he’d sleep with his mind so filled with her.
“Where to, buddy?”
“Can you just drive around?”
“Sure, your dime. Cool accent. Bet it drives the ladies wild.”
“Except that one,” Russ lied. Though she claimed she hated when he laid on the Aussie lilt, he suspected she liked just as much as any other American women he’d encountered. So maybe it was one of her ‘Victoriaisms’—’I love it, so don’t do it.’
“Not surprised. Seen that one in the paper. Always dating rich snobs like herself.”
Russ almost defended her, but thought better of it. Victoria could certainly come across as a bitch. He’d been on the front lines for her verbal assaults but he realized her tactics were a defense mechanism. Had she dated those men to make her mother happy? What did it matter what type of man she dated? Russ hated them all.
“Have you been to the Empire State Building yet?”
“No.”
“Then it’s time you did.”
That would be another check next to the list of places he wanted to see before leaving New York. But as he gazed out from the perch of the 86th floor he realized there’s one attraction he’d never get tired of visiting—Victoria’s bed.
***
A
t 11:05 he stood outside her studio, withdrew the key from his pocket, and stared at the door.
Why so nervous, Russ
?
It’s a damn key, not a ring
. Using it, he opened the door, stepped in, and closed it. Soft light illuminated the space as if she’d been working. “Victoria?”
No answer. He jogged up the steps to her living space. Was he supposed to knock? Russ didn’t know the proper etiquette, never even gave much thought to the rules of dating before. Deciding to go with his gut, he knocked softly and pushed the door open.
“You’re late.”
Russ had no snarky comeback; in fact, he’d been struck dumb. The sight of Victoria wearing a crimson red bra with matching panties seared itself into his brain. And it wasn’t even Valentine’s Day. Or his birthday. He wished she would perform a slow spin in those spiked heels so he could witness her glorious ass in what was most likely a thong. He hoped he wasn’t salivating like an unfed dog gazing longingly after a bone.
“Oooh, I’ve rendered you speechless! So worth the five hundred price tag.”
Russ’s open mouth pulled into a grin and he growled in response. “We’ll see if you still think so after it’s in tatters at your feet.”
Victoria glowed with confidence, sashaying toward him with a smile of pure seduction that sent his heart racing. A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead with each step she took.
“Yet, there you still stand. Have I rendered you paralyzed as well?”
Yeah, why hadn’t he’d already swept her up like he was Tarzan? Her arms wound their way around his neck. Victoria’s lips served as a defibrillator, shocking his body back to life. Russ gathered her into a possessive embrace and deepened the kiss.
She pulled away licking her lips. “That’s better. Now, go get naked.”
Russ could almost hear a choir singing when she turned around to reveal her luscious backside. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“To the kitchen.”
“For what?”
She looked back all sassy and hot. “It’s a surprise.”
He motioned to her outfit. “I don’t think my heart can take another surprise.”
“Can’t have that, so I’ll give you a hint—edible delights.”
Russ laughed in anticipation. Reaching the bedroom he pulled off his shirt and caught a glance in the mirror and slapped his hard stomach, which would soon be two short of a six-pack if he didn’t get to a gym soon.
Victoria entered the bedroom carrying an ornate silver tray as if she were about to serve tea at The Ritz in London. On it were several sized bowls. He guessed one to be melted chocolate but he wondered what the others held. Whipped cream? Strawberries? His mouth wetted with the possibilities. As she neared he noticed three paintbrushes laid out in a precise manner. Russ held back a laugh. Even when it came to naughty sex she was all high society. He’d bet a million dollars that the body paint didn’t come from an adult novelty store.
“I thought I told you to get naked.” She placed the tray of goodies on the nightstand.
Why did an order from her sweet lips sound so sexy? Probably because he knew he’d be well rewarded for obeying. He shed the rest of his clothes.
Lifting a lid and placing it down to the side, she said, “First, I’ll check the temperature. I wouldn’t want to mar your skin.” She dipped her elegant finger into the bowl of chocolate, brought it to her mouth, placing her crimson lips around it, and then drew it out of her mouth seductively. Her eye lashes fluttered in pleasure.
Russ wanted to replace her finger with his cock.
“Mmm, perfect. But what do you think?” She took his finger, guiding it to the bowl, dunking it, and then to her mouth. He almost came right there as she sucked the chocolate off, flicking her tongue along his fingertip.
“I think you like to see me suffer.”
Her throaty laugh was laced with a bit of evil. Victoria could play a female fatale with little effort. God help the males of the world if she ever put her mind to it. But right now he needed a little help keeping it together. She went to a lot of trouble staging this night and he didn’t want to ruin it for her by sweeping her up and throwing her onto the bed and getting on with it. The only thing that held him back from doing so was the anticipation of what she would do next.
Victoria made a great show of picking up a brush and dunking it the chocolate, then gazed upon his body as if he were a canvas. She stepped forward and drew a sweeping V over his heart.
“Branding me?”
“Like a stallion.”
“I don’t know if I’ve been insulted or complimented.”
She painted a sun around his navel. “You can tell me after I ride you later.”
His ab muscles involuntarily flexed from the feel of the paint licking his skin as if it were her tongue. “Later?”
“Hmm.” She concentrated on her work like she was DaVinci painting the Mona Lisa.
“How much later?” Russ was not a patient man.
She ignored his question, apparently lost in her own little world. Was it the scent of her spicy perfume mixed with the smell of chocolate in the air that made him light headed or was it the way she stroked his body—interchanging the thick, thin, and fan brushes? When she was finished she moved back and examined her work—his body.
She took one of the brushes that had been clenched between her teeth and said, “I might have a new career.”
“As a torturer?”
“Body paint artist.” Her feline smile clued him into what was going to happen next.
Little flicks of her tongue skittered across his skin as she lapped off the chocolate as if she were a kitten given a bowl of cream. Didn’t she realize she was toying with a tiger?
She licked his nipples then down his abdomen to his navel. His body lit like a furnace as she dropped to her knees. He wetted his lips as she reached for a brush then stroked his cock with it. “I bet you ladies would love if these turned into one of those chocolate fondue fountains.”
Victoria giggled. “Yeah, I don’t think there’d be a lesbian left on the planet if it were.”
Then she replaced the brush with her lips, sucking the chocolate off him like a woman who’d been on a deserted island for ten years. His knees were going to buckle, he grabbed the bedpost with one hand for support and the other went into Victoria’s hair as he roared out her name and came.
His butt hit the bed and he struggled to catch his breath. If he didn’t see it with his own eyes he wouldn’t have believed it. Victoria stretched back up and grabbed a hand towel. Taking the corner of it, she neatly patted her lips as if she just finished a meal.
Did he actually think he could keep her up all night? He hoped she was full because he didn’t think he could survive another session. Next time she might just eat him alive.
Victoria lifted up the lid of one of the other jars. Taking two fingers, she dunked it and came away with a dollop of whipped cream. He was about to ask for mercy but she covered her nipples instead. She dipped again and drew an arrow from breasts down to her pussy—before sliding it in between the slit then to her mouth and sucking on it. “Yum.”
Something inside Russ snapped. All the energy she zapped from his body returned like a bolt of lightning waking Frankenstein from the dead and his thoughts just as carnal and primitive as when the monster saw his bride. Picking her up, he threw her onto the bed. The line of whipped cream beckoned his tongue. “I don’t need any damn directions.”
Chapter 25
A
sex induced pleasure rush flooded her insides as Russ’s tongue blazed a trail down the path she finger-painted on her body. Combined with the sugar high, she was about ready to jump out of her skin.
“You don’t need toppings—you already taste as sweet as honey.”
Victoria settled into the pillows feeling like the Queen Bee as his busy mouth sucked the nectar from her. Remembering how her hand itched to draw him but her lack of skill to do so, she’d come up with a better solution. He became a living canvas, his skin rippling as the brush skimmed across him like moving art. Russ almost became her creation. Almost became hers. But branding him in melted Godiva chocolate with a V was temporary and only a foolish woman would try to mark him as hers.
Concerned about how many calories she’d just consumed, she tried to calculate how many she could burn by riding Russ like she promised. Not enough—unless she rode him long and hard. With that image in her mind the build to her climax came on fast. “Russ! Yes!” He started to slow his tongue, probably to tease, but Victoria did not like to be teased and she grabbed his head in desperation and pulled him into her. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
She came like a woman undone and unschooled in the ways of passion. No man had ever made her feel so wild and out of control yet at the same time so powerful.
“Wow, that came out of nowhere.”
As she calmed down, she felt a bit embarrassed by her reaction. “I hope I didn’t suffocate you.”
“No worries, luv. I was a deep sea diver once.”
“Is there anything you can’t do?”
“No.”
She laughed at his cockiness and then maneuvered him onto his back putting that cockiness to work as she rode him like the stallion he was, to hell with saving a horse.
***
V
ictoria cracked one eye open and caught the time on the bedside clock. Five minutes until the alarm went off. She dozed off but then heard the bathroom door bang open and with it so did her eyes.
“G’day, luv.”
Despite waking up to a sexy man with a towel wrapped around his hips, she grumbled, “If you say so.”
“Come on get up.” He shook the bed. “Can’t be late. We’ve got a room to save.”
He was annoyingly chipper for a man who went three rounds last night. Why wasn’t he on a sugar crash like her? “Five more minutes.”
“I’ll go make us some coffee.”
She mumbled in agreement though she wasn’t thrilled about him rummaging through her kitchen again. Next thing you know he’ll have a designated coffee cup and claim a favorite spot on the couch. Victoria grabbed his pillow and breathed in his scent. At least that would be easy to wash away when he left. Other memories would be harder to erase
The alarm rang and she slammed the off button. She dragged herself out of bed and into the shower.
In record time she was ready. The coffee wafted through her apartment and she detected the scent of cinnamon. She breathed in deeply. Is this what domesticated bliss was?
He was standing at the island counter, humming to himself, with one hand holding a mug and the other flipping through the sketchbook filled with ideas for her design line. “What do you think you are you doing?”