Wanderlust, possibly my favorite book ever. And Amazon has buried it. So I'm blowing the dust off Johnny Rose and Really and their tale of travel, sex and love. Don't forget you can GET it OTHER places TOO.
For more awesomeness check out the Sunday Snog on Victoria Blisse's site. You have fings to choose from ;)
p.s. Please forgive formatting. Somehow it got jacked up transferring it from point A to point B and I lost my patience after about ten minutes. I did my best!
From Wanderlust by Sommer Marsden
There was no headboard. Odd, but true. He tugged me to the open closet.
“Put your arms up, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear and I did. He'd stripped me bare and I stood there in nothing but my earrings. Johnny tied my arms to the metal rod in the barren space. He leaned in and kissed me almost chastely. Then he said, “Be right back. I‟m going to take a shower.”
“I…what?” I blinked at him, feeling slow and stupid. Was he fucking serious?
“I‟m going to take a shower. And then I‟ll be back.” He said. He wasn‟t smiling, but fuck me hard, his eyes were.
“You‟re going to leave me here?”
“Think of it as meditation.”
“Are you insane?”
He shrugged, his big shoulders moving casually. “Maybe.”
“Don‟t‟ leave me here,” I said. I was going to cry. Which was completely fucking asinine. He wasn‟t leaving the state, just the room, but still…Invisible cracks of black fear and red anger opened all over me. My skin stung with the force of my emotion.
“I‟ll be back.”
“Aurelia,” he said sternly and leveled a finger at me.
I shut up. Will wonders never cease. I shut up, but my vision had already doubled and then trebled with tears by the time he was out of my line of sight.
I waited until the water cut on to let the sob rip loose of me. It came barreling from me like some invisible creature. I shivered, hanging there, crying, my hair in my face, feeling like a fool. A wet-between-the-legs for him idiot. One who would be waiting right here for him when he came back.
And come back he did. Naked, rubbing his head stubble with yet another cheap white towel. His cock was hard, jutting out from a thatch of dark pubic hair. Small beads of water remained on his skin and I envied them. I wanted to lick them off of him or feel them destroyed between us when he pressed his body to mine.
“See what it did to me knowing you were hanging out here waiting for me.” He moved in close, his erection pressing to my hip as he traced the silk tie that bound me to the metal bar. “How do you feel?”
“Because you left me out here.”
“But I was right there.”
“Why were you scared?”
Now I felt angry. What the fuck was this. Bondage psychotherapy?
I shook my head, felt my lips press together and my eyes narrow. I had not been in a good mood since Fallon and now I was pissed.
“Why, Really?” He prodded.
“I don‟t know.”
He turned me. I didn‟t have much choice but to go, tied up to that eye-level clothing rod. I turned and he delivered one hard smack to my ass. The sound was deafening in the silent room. We hadn‟t even flipped the TV on.
I was determined not to make a sound.
“I don‟t know,” I lied.
Smack, smack, smack. Heat bloomed in my skin and in my pussy. My body revved up and readied itself for him, recalling the car. The punishment he‟d delivered. And the pleasure.
“I think you do.” He pressed his mouth to my ear, his stubble biting the back of my neck. His arm snaked around my waist as he pulled me back to him. My back pressed to his chest, his belly, his hard cock. My eyes slammed shut, my mouth went dry.
God, I wanted him.
“I don‟t know,” I sighed. It was nothing more than a puff of air. Barely a sound.
Four more smacks and I could feel the redness, feel my pulse beating in my skin.
“All you have to do is tell me.”
My cunt grew tight, urging me to tell the truth. I bit my tongue, remembered the greedy look of the girl in the lobby. She wanted him. Wanted what I felt should be mine, even though the object of my coveting had made it clear he was a free agent. Didn‟t do monogamy well, he‟d said.
That‟s what made it so hard to admit to him.
“You make me feel—“ I bit my tongue. Shook my he had. My hair hung in my face and I hid behind it willingly.
“Come on, Really, talk to daddy.”
An ugly laugh burst out of me. “Daddy is the last name you want to invoke,” I growled.
“Tell daddy what‟s the matter.”
He was baiting me.
I got five for that one. And they were hard. Strung together like surges of heat lightning during a late summer storm. My body thrummed, my eyes prickled with tears.
“Why did you get upset?”
“Because you make me feel safe, you ass!” I roared.
And he laughed. There was that laugh again.
But his thick finger delved into my pussy from behind. I was so hot and tight and swollen that one measly finger caused me to moan. Caused my body to clutch up around him.
“Was that so hard?”
“Yes,” I said and that was the truth.
“How do you feel?”
He added a second finger.
“How would you feel if your father was looking for you?”
“Pissed,” I breathed. Another finger joined the fray and he was thrusting, curling, pounding into me with those fingers. Invading my body with his hand and my soul with his questions.
“How do you feel that he‟s not looking for you?”
“Pissed,” I sobbed.
“Do you detect a theme, Really?”
I nodded. Exhausted by this stupid exercise in Aurelia Blake.
Johnny held my hips and tilted them toward him. He stepped right up behind me, kicking my ankles apart a bit. I tilted my ass up for him. I hung there limply, letting the weight of my body hurt my shoulder sockets and not caring.
He slid into me with a groan. A man sinking into a hot bath, a comfortable chair…a willing woman. He started to move, both thrusting to me and pulling me to him. He filled me utterly, his lips pressed to the back of my neck as he fucked me.
I made nonsense sounds. I shook my head and tried to hold on but he read me well and reached around me, stroking my clit. I gave up my orgasm easily. It slipped out of me as fluidly as my breath.
It didn't take much longer for him. Johnny came with a single grunt and a single word. “Really.”