Free Lipstick on His Collar by Inez Kelley

and her lips darted out, flicking at her lips. She wanted to lick along that crest, lap at that liquor until he trembled and shook. Not now, later, but soon, she would have him.
    “Sweet hell, lady. That’s it, stroke me, harder. Squeeze tighter.”
    Every inch she relearned ramped her own desire up to a nearly scorching level. His head fell back and a tortured groan thundered from his chest. Like a primitive mating call, the rich masculine sound reverberated, and her inner walls clenched, clenched around nothing. Her gaze shot to the counter, to his forlorn travel bag. Nipping his ear, she whispered, “Duffel.”
    “Wallet’s closer.” Bram shifted her enough to jerk his wallet from his jeans. He snagged a square packet and dropped the dark brown leather to the floor.
    “Hurry.”
    “Honey, I’m trying.” He pushed her hands away. The sharp sound of foil tearing did nothing to ease her. He rolled the condom in place, and she lunged, lowering slowly to relish each sweet inch pushing into her pussy. Fire met fire and his purr vibrated against the shell of her ear.
    “So fucking good.” His panting breath scorched her cheek. Hot, tight flesh quivered around him. He thrust, a small upward motion that speared pleasure through her. “Take all of me, honey.”
    “Trying,” she whispered. Their position on the wobbly wheeled chair didn’t allow for vigorous moves or full penetration. So good, he felt so good, but she wanted more, wanted all of him, wanted him deep and fast. The thin gray cotton of his shirt twisted in her grip as she searched for his mouth, found it waiting. Rising and lowering, her hard pebbled nipples rasped against the lettering on his chest. A small shiver gripped her, tightening her inner walls around him, but it wasn’t enough, did not give her the release her body craved.
    “This chair sucks, I can’t move,” he grumbled.
    “Counter,” she gasped, bucking.
    “Too high. Floor?”
    “Too hard.” She flexed around his tip, a shockwave of pleasure coursing through her. “Bram, please.”
    “Standing.” Bram bolted to his feet, taking her with him, her calves circling his hips. He caught one leg and swung it downward. His crushing kiss stole her breath as he left her body, capturing her cry between them.
    “Where?”
    “Here. Bend over and spread your legs.” His sexual snarl ricocheted through her hot, heavy core, and he shoved the back of her split shorts over her hips. She cried out as he cupped her, pressing deep into her aching center. Both of her hands shot out for balance, flat against the blinds. The hard, sharp slats bit into her palms before they cracked and one five-inch piece clattered to the floor. The freezing window beneath magnified the heat vibrating through her. Slick with warm feminine honey, his fingers thrummed her clit, tweaking the tight nub until she sobbed.
    Bent and begging, her breath caught when his touch slid higher, parting her ass and stroking her tightest opening. She went still for a dozen frantic heartbeats. Oh fuck . So erotic, so teasing, so naughty, he caressed the tiny passage with a languid reverence. If she flamed before, now she burned. The slightest pressure spun tendrils of wanton temptation racing along her bones.
    Gruff, with a seductive timbre, his voice rumbled with the same need gripping her. “How bad are you, lady?”
    “How bad do you want me to be?”
    He paused, his fingers lazily circling the tight barrier, seeming to consider the ultimate taboo. The coarse denim of his jeans scraped the back of her thighs and the frosty glass under her palms channeled sensation through her like a current, crackling and sparking. A few seconds stretched to an eternity.
    Slick with her cream, his thumb sank deep into her ass in a slow press. A frigid sucked-in breath sent searing cold whipping through her lungs as erotic heat swelled from her behind. Leisurely thrusts coiled tension through her, hot fevered lust that pinpointed on the delicious