Off Limits(5)

By: Callie Harper

“You like that, Jewel?” His deep and wicked voice, so secret and dirty, he made me so wet just from the sound of it. The way he looked at me, licked his lips as he feasted on the sight of my arousal. What would it feel like to have those full, hot lips on my breasts, to feel his tongue on my skin, sucking my aching nipples?

In a remote region of my mind I tried to remind myself that I was still in public, at a party, and I didn’t do this kind of thing. I was cautious, reserved. I left parties early, didn’t give out my phone number. But then he kissed me again and my entire brain lost its reception in white-hot static.

Owning me, his hands cupping my breasts, his breath ragged and hot against my throat, he continued his light, teasing strokes. Heart fluttering, pulse pounding, I sucked in my breath and bit my lower lip, my eyelids half-closing as I needed more, more contact, more of his hands, his heat, his skin on my skin. His gaze stayed on me, mesmerized by my response to him.

In that sinfully sexy voice of his, he asked, low and husky in my ear, “Have you ever been bad, Jewel?”

Trembling against his hardness, I couldn’t think. My sex clenched tight at his words, slick heat building within me. I couldn’t process what was happening. “What do you mean?”

His voice stroked me, soft as silk, “I get the feeling you’ve always been a good girl.” His thumb and forefinger found my nipple, aroused, pressing against the fabric of my dress. I arched my back into his touch, still so light and teasing. Dark eyes intent on my face, drinking in my reaction, he pinched. My mouth parted in a gasp and I closed my eyes in the onslaught of sensations. How could it hurt and feel so good at the same time? It was as if my breast was wired directly down between my legs, making my sex throb and glisten with need.

“I think you should be bad with me, Jewel.” He dipped his mouth down to my sensitive throat, trailing hot kisses against my skin, “Delicious,” he murmured as he stopped to lick and suck, swirling his tongue. Pressed up against the wall, panting and unable to think straight, I felt like Little Red Riding Hood with the big bad wolf. If the wolf had been hypnotically sexy as sin.

He ground his hips against me and through our clothes I could feel his heavy, thick cock. He was huge. A moan escaped my lips, true, real lust clenching its fist around me for the first time in my life. I wanted this man. No, I needed this man. I needed him to do all the things I’d only read about, right there, right then, up against the wall.

A hot palm down at my hip, searing me through my dress, so close to where I throbbed but not close enough, he asked, “Are you getting wet for me, Jewel?” I panted and twisted under his grasp, wanting more of him, needing more heat, more pressure. “Right here at the party?” He tormented me, moving his hand ever so slightly down, then grasping the hem of my dress to inch it slowly up.

“Naughty girl,” his dark voice rasped at my ear, his tongue flicking along my lobe, biting then sucking the sensitive flesh.

Moaning, I arched my back, pressing my breast into his hand, impatient, needy, wanton. I’d never been so reckless. I’d never felt so good.



There was something about this girl, some kind of fire running through her veins underneath her chaste, innocent surface. Something in her lit me up.

She wasn’t my usual type. Typically, I went for the trashy ones, the girls who wanted a hard fuck, one and done. Or two or three, depending on the night. But come morning, no muss, no fuss, it was always over and out.

This girl with her flaming red hair, porcelain complexion and pouty lips looked exactly like what usually sent me running in the other direction. The type who dreamed of doves and poetry, waiting for some swashbuckling pirate hero to carry her off to lands unknown, reform his ways and marry her with undying loyalty.

That kind of shit didn’t happen in real life. In real life, people cycled in and out, dead set in pursuit of their own goals. My father had been through two wives so far, and I had a feeling number three was on the way. He’d asked me to come to the party tonight so I could “meet someone special.” I knew what that meant. He was considering going in for round three.

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