Chapter 11
Jo knew good sex. She was also well acquainted with mediocre sex, with perfunctory sex, with performative sex.
She was still somehow unprepared, however, for Derek Owens, daddy fox himself.
Despite a stellar one-night-stand two days before (did it still count as a one-night-stand if there was a repeat performance?), she was still somehow caught off guard by how insanely wild with need he could make her with only a look.
And when he threw her over his shoulder and marched into the cottage, kicking the door closed behind them?
Good lord. She wasn’t sure anything could have prepared her for how unreasonably hot that was.
He stalked down the hallway, his arm banded across her legs. “Put me down,” she protested, though really she didn’t mind being manhandled, but it seemed like the kind of thing a self-respecting, independent woman should say.
He smacked her ass and she let out a yelp of surprise, the sting of the slap giving way to a deep heat that sank into her backside and curled around her thighs, teasing at the space between her legs.
Derek didn’t bother closing the door to the bedroom before he tossed her into the center of the king-size bed.
She bounced lightly on the mattress and propped herself up on her elbows.
“Strip.”
She scoffed. “Excuse me?”
In a flash, he was above her, planting his hands on either side of her hips and leaning close. “You heard me. Take off your clothes.”
She rolled her eyes. There was no need for him to know how delighted she was by this turn of events. When he stepped back, she pulled her t-shirt over her head, dropping it on the floor beside the bed. “Have you always been this bossy?”
He grunted and tilted his chin at her, arms crossed over his chest like he was some kind of bodyguard. “Keep going.”
“Why should I?”
“I want to see your tits.”
She barked out a surprised laugh. “Oh, well, in that case.”
Derek caught her chin and tilted her face up to his. “I can’t decide what I should fuck first. Your tits. Your ass. This smart mouth.”
Hot damn. All the air rushed from Jo’s lungs and she squeezed her thighs together. “What about…”
“Use your words, Joelle.”
She tipped her face up to his defiantly. “What about my pussy?”
His chuckle was low and dark. Dangerous.
The kind of laugh that, on any other man, would have sent her running for the hills.
But not with Derek. She knew he would never hurt her, that it was all a game, and he’d stop, without question, if she wanted him to.
But she didn’t want him to. She wanted to drop to her knees and beg him to make her come.
“Don’t worry, baby. I know how needy your little pussy is. You’ll get my cock, but only when I’m damn well ready for you to have it. Only good girls who follow directions get to come.”
He released her chin and stepped back again, waiting expectantly. It took a moment for her brain to come back online, to remember what his directions had been—Right. Get naked.
She hurried to do as he asked, hastily unhooking her bra and shoving down her jeans, panties and all, kicking the fabric free as he grinned down at her.
She scooted to the edge of the bed, eager for whatever came next.
The scratchy fabric of his dress pants brushed against her knees as he stepped close and cupped her cheek.
“Good girl,” he murmured before capturing her lips in a kiss far too gentle for the games he liked to play.
She clung to him, tugging on his dress shirt with one hand and grasping his wrist with the other. His praise washed over her like sunlight, making her feel shiny and new, ready for anything. Ready for him.
“Now you,” she said, when at last they parted, panting and flushed.
He took his time removing his clothing, carefully folding each item and setting it in a neat pile on the dresser, as though he had all the time in the world.
As though his cock weren’t standing at full attention and staring at her.
She was mesmerized by it, the way it bobbed when he walked, the thick vein along the side and flared crown.
Was this what it meant to be dickmatized?
Derek dropped a condom on the bedside table and joined her on the bed, pulling her into his lap and kissing her deeply, his hands roaming over her waist, her hips, her ass.
Between their bodies, his cock pulsed, hard and heavy.
She slid off his lap and went to her knees at his feet.
Situating herself between his spread thighs, she took his shaft in her hand, stroking him slowly.
“Have you decided what you want first?” she asked.
He let out a strangled moan, his thumb pulling at her lower lip. “I want it all before the night is through.”
A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine. Scooting closer, she positioned his shaft between her breasts, moving her hands to cup herself, pressing her softness against his length. “Like this?”
“Just like that.”
He placed his hands over hers, urging her to squeeze harder, his thumbs swiping over her stiff nipples.
She was overcome with the intense urge to see the picture they made.
What she wouldn’t give to set up her phone to record it all so she could relive it later, to watch his tip slide in and out of view between her breasts.
She whimpered, shifting so her heel pressed against her aching core.
“Uh uh,” he tsked. “Don’t you dare touch yourself.
Not yet. For the next three days, that’s my pussy, and you only touch it when I tell you to.
” She groaned, but moved away from the pressure of her heel—it wasn’t enough to get her off anyway.
“I want you dripping for me, Jo. You hear me? I want you dripping down your thighs and begging me to fuck you.”
“And then?”
“And then maybe I’ll let you come.”
God, she wanted that. There had never been a time in her life when Jo had enjoyed being denied—if she wanted something, she went after it.
Delayed gratification was not Jo’s strong suit.
But this—wanting him so badly she could hardly think straight, letting him play with her, control her pleasure—this she could get used to.
You won’t have time to get used to it. It’s only three nights.
All the more reason to enjoy every second while she could.
She dipped her chin and stuck out her tongue, lapping at his cock as it slid between her breasts.
He swore, one of his hands twining in her hair as he urged her closer.
The angle was awkward, only his tip sliding past her lips, but it was enough.
She slowed the pace of his strokes between her breasts so she could linger with him against her tongue.
“Jesus Christ, look at you.” He adjusted his hold on her hair to sweep the loose strands out of her face, giving himself a better view of the way she suckled on his tip. Her tongue swirled lazily around the thick ridge of the flared crown, the slit at the top.
“I wish I could see,” she said around his cock.
He hummed, the vibration moving through his body and into hers. “Another time.”
Would there be another time?
Using his grip on her hair, he pulled her off him, tilting her face up and licking into her mouth, kissing her like he needed to suck the very air from her lungs. Lips still on hers, he raised her to her feet and tugged her back into his lap, moving them back on the bed so she straddled him.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” she asked.
He shoved a hand between their bodies, plunging two fingers inside her.
She gasped, the sudden intrusion so clinical it shouldn’t have been hot, but she couldn’t help but rock against his hand.
The smack on her ass was sharp and fast. “Stay still,” he commanded, his fingers still searching, probing, and she almost managed to comply until his thumb brushed against her clit and her hips rocketed forward. Another smack. “I said, stay still.”
“You’re the one with your fingers in my pussy,” she grumbled, doing her best to still the restless movement of her hips.
His grin was wicked and the sharp sting of his teeth on her breast so unexpected she couldn’t help but cry out. “That’s right. My fingers. My pussy. And I say you’re not ready for my cock yet.”
“I am,” she whined, her thighs shaking with the effort not to fuck herself on his hand.
And then his hand was gone, and she wasn’t sure if it was a relief or a disappointment. He held her gaze as he licked his fingers clean. “Not yet, little menace.”
“I need—” She broke off on a whimper. “I need something, Derek. Please.”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and pressed a soft kiss to the underside of her jaw. “I know what you need.” He lay back on the bed, his head pillowed on one forearm, and beckoned her closer with a curl of his fingers. “Sit on my face, baby.”
Jo had never moved so fast. She scrambled over him, positioning herself above him, gripping the headboard as she lowered herself down. Strong hands gripped her thighs and held her hovering in place before she made contact with his mouth.
“Derek,” she begged.
“In a minute. I want to look at you.” He shifted one hand to part her folds and blew a cool stream of air against her swollen clit. She gasped, falling forward and pressing her forehead against the headboard. “How long do you think you can stay like this?”
“Like this?” Her thighs were already shaking from holding herself above him.
“Mmm,” he hummed. “Just like this.” He lifted his mouth and gave her one long, slow lick.
Not enough, not nearly enough, but her breath rushed out of her in a desperate stream of want all the same.
“How long can you stay on the edge of coming without giving in? How long can I keep you wet and ready before I give you what you need?”
“Hasn’t it been long enough already?”