Breakfast with Mia (7 page)

Damian’s Turn.

“Beautiful girl,” Damian whispered in her ear, pulling her
from her dreams. His large hand spread out across her hip and she roused for
him, her body drawn toward his. He stroked sweaty fire red hair out of her face
and she smiled up at him and he smiled down at her and kissed her mouth, his
favorite place on her body. Her mouth was the color crushed cherries and he
knew he could have kissed her for the rest of his life.

But his body was tense, hard as stone beneath her touch. He
wasn’t done with her tonight, not after that display of violent pleasure. She’d
owned them, held their hearts and their souls in the secret places of her body.
His jealousy seeing another man between her legs had only served to stoke the
burning lust in him to take her back.

“That was…” she mewled against his kiss.

“I know.” His hand slid down to her knee and lingered there.
“Can you be a good girl for me, Mia?”

She sighed happily. “Yes, I can be good.”

“Come here, then.” He took her hand and lifted her soft body
from the bed, made only more delicious covered in other men’s come. She smelled
like them, and sweat and her perfume. When he pushed her to her knees and gazed
down at her pretty face, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. His little
storm.

“Sweet girl,” he murmured and pulled at her chin. “Open your
mouth.” And she obeyed, lowered her bottom lip in such a coquettish, sylphish
way. Innocent, she looked innocent and sweet and young after so much wanton
savagery. She was an exquisite creature, otherworldly, and he’d captured her.

He pulled his sweat pants down and let his cock fall against
her cheek. Her eyes blinked wide them, waking her from her trance and just a
little bit, her bottom lip trembled. He was a big man and women had complained
about it before. Such a thing to complain about! But she’d taken him, all of
him, formed to him like a glove and he hoped now she’d do it again and make him
proud.

He navigated his cockhead to her open, warm mouth, grazed
along her crushed cherry lips until the head was just inside. Obediently she
closed her lips around him and her tongue went to work licking the residue of
his pre-cum from the slit. She traced the ridges with her soft, little tongue,
stroked the head like an ice cream cone and he had to close his eyes to control
himself because this was far too soon to come yet, even though he’d been a
second from coming for the past thirty-minutes of her dirty threesome.

When he opened his eyes and looked down at her she gazed up
at him lovingly, big stormy eyes momentarily sated and calm, waiting for her
next command. He licked his lips and placed his hand on the back of her head.

“Be a good girl, Mia. So good.” He exhaled and started
feeding his cock to her a sliver at a time. There was nothing more sensual than
watching her mouth stretch with each inch, her loving eyes trusting, wanting,
not stopping him. Her hands stayed still on her thighs like a little slave, and
though her eyes begged him to be careful of her, her body told him to do what
he would. She was
his
.

His cock trapped her tongue beneath it. Deeper, deeper he
pumped, gagging her with his size until she couldn’t breathe and her eyes
watered and still he pushed and still she let him. Her mouth worked to widen
and stretch and take him all. She was so perfect in her need to please him.

“That’s it baby, almost there. You’re doing so well,” he breathed
and pushed into the back of her throat and he was in all the way, her lips
pressed into his trimmed pubic hair. Her eyes squeezed shut as he gagged her
and he held her head still like that longer than she could take, he knew, but
part of his pleasure was forcing her boundaries for him. Only for him.

“Oh, Mia,” his voice came out harsher than he expected,
quivering, and he pulled out and she gasped for air, gasped and whimpered like
a kitten. He closed his eyes and didn’t warn her when he started pushing back
in. She tensed and took him, took him like the good girl she wanted to be. He
didn’t go all the way back this time, but worked about halfway, first in, then
out slowly. He wouldn’t last long, but he wanted to draw this moment out as
long as possible. Her mouth was beautifully tight and warm, and her tongue had
marvelous talents for teasing out his groans whenever he pulled back far enough
to let her.

The next time he wanted to force her to deep throat him, he
didn’t go slowly. He held her head in both of his hands and penetrated her
mouth in one thrust, back, back, all the way back, until she started gagging
and fighting, overcome by the size of him. He moaned and fucked her mouth deep
like that, pulling out only an inch before sundering her again and again. She
whimpered and moaned and it felt like fire and ice and explosions.

“Mia,” he panted, “Oh, Mia. For me you swallow. Do you
understand? For me you always swallow, and no one else.” He thrust into her
throat and her muffled cries answered him. “Take it, Mia, my good girl, take it
all. Take it.”

He grunted, pulled almost fully from her mouth and
penetrated her one last time, all the way back, and the dams burst. He held her
head and ground himself against her mouth as he came spurting hot into her
throat. Her little throat worked hard to keep up, swallowing and swallowing and
licking like a girl starved, until he worried he might suffocate her and slowly
pulled out, softening as he slid across the flat of her silky tongue.

She coughed and fell to her hands, her whole body shaking
with the physical effort he’d put her through and he was overwhelmed with the
desire to care for her. He scooped her up like a child and she let him, weak as
a kitten in his arms and curled her on the bed.

He left her there for a moment, went to the bathroom and
started running hot water and lavender bubbles into her bath. When it was
nearly full he returned to her, picked her up, held her sticky, sweaty body
against his and carried her into the dimmed bathroom. He stepped up the stairs,
and descended into the bath water with her clutched protectively against his
chest.

They sank together into the bubbles and he killed the water
when it was full. She was so tired, his beautiful girl, that she hardly stirred
but to sigh and murmur pleasantly. It was a pleasure to wash her, to clean her
of the residue of the night and make her sweet and clean and only his once
more.

He held her in the tub a long time, ankles twisted together,
her arms loosely around him and his tight around her. After he washed her hair,
he stroked her face and kissed her awake.

“I have something I need to confess to you, Mia. My Mia.
Open your eyes. Let me see you.”

Her lashes fluttered and she smiled lovelost up to him.
“Damian,” she murmured.

“Have you ever wondered why our table at the café is always
empty when we arrive? As if it were meant to be?”

She thought about it for a second, then nodded. “I’ve
wondered. I figured you just have amazing luck or you paid people to leave.”

He grinned and held her chin in his fingers and kissed her
mouth. She was exhausted but pliant and so eager to please.

“I make my own luck, Mia. I bought the café months ago and
my only requests were that our table be kept free and the woman they hired to
bake the house specials be given a raise after impressing upon her the
importance of making you exotic and beautiful breakfasts.”

Mia gasped, her sharp mind working through months of
breakfasts, searching for clues to confirm what he told her as truth. A blush worked
its way up her throat where it colored her cheeks prettily. “Damian, but why?”

“Because you savor the world, Mia, every piece of it, and it
is my pleasure to be at your side when you do. And also because…because
breakfasts with you are my favorite moment of the day. I wake up in the morning
and can’t get to you soon enough.”

The smile that lit her face took his breath away.
“Presumptuous stalker,” she teased.

“Sychophantic whore.” He kissed her nose and drew her
closer. “Let’s order breakfast in bed this morning, what do you think?”

###

About the author:

Well, my name is Jordan Bell and I like books, long walks at
the lake, sunrises and sunsets, mojitos and cosmos and, oh yeah, I write
erotica. I've been writing stories about strong women in the moment of carnal
lust and shy girls discovering their inner sex kitten for, I don't know, years
and years, mostly for myself and sometimes for my husband. We live in Illinois
with one cranky cat and a kind of stupid but happy dog.

Connect Me Online:

Visit my blog to discover naughty little tidbits from
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releases, and join the mailing list where you’ll hear first when new stories
are released!

My blog:
http://jordabell.blogspot.com/

Twitter:
http://twitter.com/Jordan_Bells

Bonus Excerpt:

On the night of graduation, Emily calls her step-uncle to
come rescue her from the park in the middle of the night when her plan to lose
her virginity doesn’t go exactly as expected. He shows up in time to watch her
fondled at the hands of three college boys, but rescues her before they can
take her innocence. Uncle Nate is angry when he realizes it was Emily’s plan
all along to lose her virginity to these boys, but back at their dorm, not in
the middle of a park. Emily’s not prepared for the punishment he’s got in store
for her, and she’s certainly not prepared to lose her virginity to him in the
back of his car!

In the Back of Uncle Nate’s Car

by Jordan Bell

I shoved her down again.

She sobbed for me, big fake humiliated tears. I was her nice
uncle, her good uncle, the uncle who treated her like a princess. My brother
and I didn’t have sisters, we didn’t have female cousins, no kids of our own.
Emily was the first little princess to come into our lives and while my brother
Paul protected and cared for her, I doted upon her like my favorite kitten. I
wasn’t stupid, I knew why she called me and not him. To avoid this exact
punishment. I was supposed to pick her up and cuddle her and carry her lovingly
back to my SUV. I wasn’t supposed to debase her.

She trembled as she crawled across the sand toward her pile
of things. Her jacket was folded, her shoes lined up. She’d taken everything
off herself. These were not objects that had been stripped from her in the
moment of capture. While she crawled, I admired the space between her legs that
peeked out from beneath her skirt. I’d never have imagined her to act like such
a whore, it was only fair that she not expect me to act like the forgiving
uncle.

She unzipped her backpack, gulping on her tears. “Please
don’t be mad at me, Uncle Nate.”

And then she pulled her panties out of a pocket inside her
backpack.

“Oh,
Emily
.” I lowered my voice, dripping with
disappointment and disgust. “You took off your own panties.”