Worth Any Price Read online

  He chased it with his and licked at her inner lip where he found the taste of her drink and popcorn. His control slipped as his hunger for her increased maddeningly; he couldn’t stop the groan that moved up his throat, the guttural sound that filled the air spoke of his urgency.

  He should be acting, but he wasn’t, he didn’t need to. Kissing her was the most natural thing he could imagine doing right now. Her blatant reaction to his kiss was heady. He was a man intoxicated by the touch and feel of this woman’s response to him, her surrender to his kiss.

  She was enticing him with her tongue, so much so, that he had to hold back his desire to thrust into her pelvis, to let her know of his body’s pressing need to penetrate her, to be inside her. In an effort to regain some restraint, he slowed his lips, letting them languorously close over her bottom lip which he sucked and pulled lightly on as his hand moved to cup her head. Her upper lip got the same treatment ending with him allowing his teeth to lightly graze the part he had turned out before letting it go. He ended the kiss, but then quickly went back for another. He couldn’t help himself, he had to kiss her one more time, as he might never get another chance at the ecstasy that kissing this woman brought.

  This time he kissed her deeply, angling his head to allow his tongue better access, to let his tongue tangle with hers inside her mouth where it frantically wanted to be. There was no resistance in her body as he pulled her closer to his and let his passion take them away. She enraptured him by her taste, by her scent, by the feel of her just being in his arms. He kissed her as if to possess her, as if he was entitled simply because she needed him right now. Plunging and retreating, renewing a fevered hunger in them both, he meshed lips with hers. Desire streaked through him and he gloried in the feel of his rigid member swelling and nudging against her soft, yielding pelvis. For a small woman, her female center met his almost perfectly, he figured it had to be because of her heels. As his penis probed the curve of her hip, a surge of heat flashed under his skin and it took him off guard. With the power of a careening comet, he realized that he wanted her as badly as he’d ever wanted any woman. Not in the way he was going to be forced to have her, though. Abruptly, he pulled away and whispered, “Remember, you’ve got to beg.”

  She licked her lips and nodded. Mmmmm. That was nice. She wouldn’t mind just doing that for a while. She looked him up and down as he walked ahead of her into the office. He was several inches over six foot, had thick brown hair that was almost black that tended to curl at his collar, and shoulders so broad that he filled the old-time cottage doorway. His torso tapered to slim hips and his jeans encased a firm, well put together butt. If only they’d met some other way.

  Together they went into the dingy office, waited for the desk clerk to get up from his dinner and come to the counter so they could register. Laura was acting a little woozy again and Kel wondered if this time it might be for real. He had purposely asked for a drink with several liquors hoping that the added belt of the complex drink would relax her some. But it hadn’t occurred to him that maybe she wasn’t a drinker.

  Feigning sentimentality, he asked for room twelve, and winked at the desk clerk as he handed over the money, hoping to get a rise from him, some indication that he might know what went on in that particular motel room. The young man opened a drawer, fished through some keys, and produced one attached to a long plastic tag that had a big “12,” handwritten in black marker. He handed it to Kel and with a lackluster demeanor, turned to go back to his dinner, acting as if he did this a hundred times a night.

  Kel walked with Laura to the room, used the key to open the door, and waited for her to enter before following her in and locking the door behind them.

  Her look of distress upon entering the room momentarily startled him. In the blink of an eye, she had become timid, unsure and scared. He could see it in her eyes, in the way they flitted around not liking anything that they saw. Not allowing her any time to think about what had to happen next, he grabbed her and pulled her into his chest. His strong arms enfolded her and then his head dipped and he began ravishing her, acting like a man who’d had a few drinks; like a man getting free sex with a beautiful woman; like a man possessed who was holding a gorgeous creature that he was most ardently desirous of. He definitely was the latter that was for sure. He wanted this woman—very, very much. And had they been truly private, there was no doubt he would have had her naked in less than a minute. As it was, he had to remember his promise to her. He backed her up to the side of the bed until her knees touched, then eased her onto the bed and followed her down, climbing on top like a sleek, long, cat.

  He’d noticed the typical placement of the TV, sitting on a dresser across from the foot of the bed, as soon as they’d entered the room. With its hidden camera, it would give the optimum view of unsuspecting lovers. Placing her sideways on the bed as he had, he hoped to find a way to cover all the bases without exposing her too much.

  He kept kissing her lips and her throat, fighting against the incredible delicious taste of her as he positioned his body on top of hers. She felt incredible lying under him and as he moved his groin suggestively in circles over her pelvis, his eagerness became bold and evident.

  She gasped as she felt the hard ridge of him, erect and rubbing firmly into her as he repeatedly pushed his hips into her belly. Her body started to respond to his and he felt her begin to gyrate with him. “Careful,” he whispered in her ear before letting his tongue circle the inner whorls. She shivered and he smiled to himself. He could swear he was affecting her, managing somehow to arouse her when she had to be absolutely terrified to death.

  He propped his head on one elbow, his back to the TV, and looked down at her as she lay facing the peeling ceiling. He ran his hand over her breasts from the outside of her blouse, carefully avoiding grazing her nipples. He knew it was time for things to progress in order for this encounter to be believable, yet it infuriated him to no end to have to showcase her for the camera. For this alone, he vowed to make somebody pay. He allowed his hands to wander freely over her body so he could figure out her clothing and plan accordingly and he had to smile at her foresight.

  He had initially noted the front opening of her blouse and the easy-to-deal-with skirt instead of more complicated pants, now he was finding out about the front clasp of her bra, and realizing that her panties were the only barrier to her sex.

  As his hand roved and lingered over her bra cups, he could feel her nipples becoming hard under his palm. He went light headed for a split second as his lust spiked. He was becoming totally enthralled with her and he knew he had to mentally step away from what his body was doing or he’d blow it. He concentrated on her buttons, the size and shape of them and then the texture of her blouse before taking several deep breaths and starting to unbutton her shirt. Her hand reached up to still his, it trembled as it gripped his wrist. She turned her head to his and their eyes met, and for a brief moment he had serious doubts as to whether she was going to be able to go through with this. Then she shuddered slightly and started unbuttoning her blouse for him. When she spread the shirt wide and he saw her breasts encased in only lace, his penis jumped and even more blood surged to flow into his groin. He moaned his pleasure and gently plucked at the dusky nipples visible through the thin lace.

  She tossed her head back and forth on the bed and moaned. The moan was followed by kittenish mewling and there was no doubt in Kel’s mind that her distress was caused by the genuine pleasure he was giving her, not just her ability to act. It thrilled him immensely because he knew she was having to fight against her rational inclinations and go with these surges of passion, just as he was; not be able to truly give in to the moment and forget about playing the part—forget she was a lady, forget she was supposed to be a woman doing this as a means to an end. Right now, he was having a hard time forgetting that he was a gentleman and she was his lady, his damsel in dist
ress. He wanted her as badly as he’d ever wanted any woman and it was killing him to remember just why they were here doing what they were doing in the first place.

  Toy with her naked breasts. It was time to take care of one of the terrorist’s demands. Expertly his fingers flicked the front closure, and the elastic band holding the bra cups together sprang open. Before the cups could fall away, revealing her, his mouth was there to claim a breast while his hand claimed the other. As he greedily suckled her and outwardly roughly palmed her, he fought the incredible urge to uncover her and let his own eyes feast. He hadn’t seen her breasts yet, and neither had the camera. Yet here he was holding them, caressing them, kneading them. Bracing on an elbow, he wrapped his arms around her and dug his elbows into the mattress, then he flipped, taking her with him so her back was now facing the camera. Now he could look at her as he so desperately wanted to, but instead, he looked into her face to see how she was doing.

  She was scared, he could see that, but he could also see trust, and something else. Was that desire? He smiled and let his eyes fall to her kiss-swollen lips, fighting the urge to let them drift lower, then he moved in and kissed her thoroughly. He lingered as long as he dared, mating his tongue with hers and enjoying the way their mouths joined and communicated so completely. But after the kiss he had to see; had to let the camera see that he was looking at her. He pulled away and his eyes lowered until he was looking at her creamy, pale breasts. They were flushed from his touch with rosy-tips proudly jutting out. They were dainty and lovelier than he could have imagined; pale and smooth with dusky centers, now swollen from his attentions.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered. Then his mouth returned to pay homage again as his hand insinuated itself under her skirts. From the camera’s angle you could tell where his hand was going. Her skirt rose proportionately but not higher than the back of her thighs. He reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down to her knees. Then stroking his fingers along her outer thigh, he inched his hand up until it was under her skirt, and quite obviously, from the constant shifting of the fabric, he knew it would appear that he was fingering her. And indeed, he was.

  She was so wet that it shocked him. He hadn’t expected that, not under the circumstances. His long fingers glided up and down and in and out of her slick channel and he thought he was going to absolutely lose it. He was bursting with the need to be inside her. He had to force himself to focus on Kayla and the case and the madman who had her before he was out of control and unable to do what needed to be done.

  I want to see his fingers buried deep inside you before he fucks you. As wonderful as this felt and even though he was actually, most definitely, fingering her, he wasn’t sure he was following the directive to the letter.

  “Sorry, honey,” he whispered as he slowly used his hand and allowed the skirt to climb up the back of her smooth thighs. If he let the camera see her from the backside, the view would certainly be of his fingers buried deep inside her, but it wouldn’t be one of her genitalia. His fingers probed deeper, then he used them to quickly do a few in and out thrusts as he leaned in close to her and whispered, “Time to beg, sweetheart, and make it good.”

  “Dylan! Oh, Dylan! Kiss me, suck me, there, there where your fingers are! Lick me please! Please, please, I need your mouth on me. I need your tongue on me! Right now! Pleeeease!” she ended the last plea on a whimper and he prayed it was from passion, and not from disgust.

  Other than using his fake name, her plea was perfect and if he hadn’t already been as hard as the Rock of Gibraltar, he certainly would be now.

  “Well certainly little darlin’, it would be my pleasure,” he cooed. He shifted her and his hand came out from under her skirt, coincidentally pulling it partially down. Taking her by the hips, he adjusted her around on the bed before pulling two pillows from the headboard. He firmly tucked them behind her back, forcing her to sit up facing the head of the bed. Her back was again in view of the TV, only this time she faced a different direction. He stood beside a night stand and removed his shirt while looking appreciatively at her bared breasts. Breasts that he had strategically made sure were facing the opposite side of the room from the camera, sheltered from view by her body and the pile of pillows. He undid his belt, the fastener for his trousers, and pulled his zipper partially down so he could get some relief for his straining member. He didn’t allow it to seek its way out of the opening though, he had some modesty and wasn’t quite ready to be the porn star yet.

  Kneeling at the head of the bed, he grabbed both her and the pillows and pulled them as one to him until he had her at the angle he wanted her. He removed her panties and threw them over her shoulder making sure they floated through the air in front of the camera, then he pushed her knees up until her feet were flat on the bed. Her skirt was tented over her lap, but it couldn’t hide the most feminine part of her. He could see her dark curls and a glistening pink gash in the deep shadowy tunnel made by her upraised thighs. Because he had to have a reason for facing her in this more awkward position, he reached over and flicked on the night stand lamp. “There, ummm, I can see you a lot better now. You’ve got great tits. And what a nice juicy cunt.”

  He watched as her face blanched at his words and surreptitiously, he moved his hand on the sheet and pinched her big toe, hard. He had to make sure she understood, and that she trusted him.

  He looked over her raised legs to her face. He wanted to reassure her but he couldn’t conceal the hot lust in his eyes. In a husky voice he said, “Pull your skirt up and spread your thighs for me. I want to see all of you, then I want to taste you. Badly. I can’t wait to taste you on my tongue.” Even to his own ears it sounded as sincere as could be.

  Her eyes went wide, then she shut them tightly. He squeezed her toe again and she complied. She inched her skirt up until it was at her waist.

  “Now spread your legs wide so I can feast on you.”

  Her eyes met his and she saw that he was trying to give her some control in all this by having her open herself up to him, but honestly, it wasn’t working out that way; this was so much worse. She wished he would just do whatever it was he had to do and leave her out of it. She knew that she’d have to submit to this, but not that she’d have to be the one extending this blatant suggestion. He was looking at the juncture between her thighs, and granted she wasn’t as wide spread as he wanted her to be, but still, she knew from where he knelt that he could see plenty. And the stark yellow glow coming from the night stand lamp wasn’t helping matters. She bit her bottom lip and spread her knees wider for him, giving him the view the camera was supposed to be seeing; her completely open womanhood.

  She watched his face as his eyes took in her nakedness. His nostrils flared, his pupils became dark with passion, and his Adam’s apple moved first up, then down as he swallowed. Then almost reverently, his hands slid on the sheets going under her body until he was able to grip her buttocks and pull her toward him. His mouth lowered and he kissed her.

  The second his mouth touched her she sobbed and he didn’t know if it was because of the denigration she was experiencing or if it was the extreme pleasure her senses were conveying to her nerve centers.

  She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the wonderful things his mouth was doing to her, there at her core.

  Kel was in Heaven, mesmerized by her scent, her velvety slickness and her unique taste. This, the most intimate of all caresses, as a man kissed a woman between her legs, was what many women had told him was the ultimate in lovemaking. Nothing gratified like this, nothing was this sensual or this intimate. This selfless act of a man going down on a woman was adoration personified, the male kissing the rosebud of his mate, and he’d had more than his fair share of devoted fans screaming into the night because of his efforts.

  Deciding he was going to make sure something about this experience was positive for her, he used every techniqu
e he could think of to pleasure her. He sucked on her labial lips, he lapped at her wet gash trying to take the essence of her into his body by way of his tongue, he nibbled lightly around the outer edge of her lips while reaching up and fondling her breasts, pulling on her nipples, and then when she was close to the edge, he flicked her swollen nubbin with rapid-fire licks of his tongue until it was fully distended and ready to burst. Holding her open with his thumbs, he gently took her precious, throbbing pearl between his lips and sucked possessively on it. A split second later she shuddered wildly and spent into his mouth. He stayed with her until the aftershocks died, then he closed her legs, allowing enough room for his hand so his fingers could stroke and calm her as he climbed atop her body to kiss her.

  Even through glazed eyes he saw the fear and the questions. Still foggy and leaden from her orgasm, she knew what was next. He kissed her thoroughly, trying to reassure her and calm her, letting her taste her own sweet essence as he tried to plan out the final outrage in his mind.

  He fucks you. Oh, and the guy must pull out and come like they do in the porno flicks—on your belly or in the crack of your ass. How the hell was he going to do that without exposing her to the camera? Then he had an idea.

  If he knelt at the head of the bed, facing the television, the camera wouldn’t be able to see his lower body. He could actually pretend to be fucking her. He could situate himself against her mons and lean into her as if he was thrusting into her very core. When he made himself ready to come, he could pretend he was pulling out when he’d never actually been in. Then he could quickly straddle her, move up and come on her belly, moving the pillow prop for the camera to catch the spurting action. Her head would be blocking her breasts, so she would be minimally exposed to the camera that way. And he’d make sure he was high enough over her so the camera would get his cum pumping out of him. So much for modesty—his anyway.