by Roni Loren
Her muscles clenched, low and tight, her body aching for him.
“You do that even when we’re not sparring. So we don’t have to follow someone else’s rules. If you want to play, we do it our way. No one doing anyone favors. Both of us getting what we crave.”
Our way. The words reverberated through her. There could be an our now. The notion filtered through her system, making her feel confident. In her skin. Sexy.
She heard the words loud and clear. What they did in the bedroom didn’t mean they were broken in some way. Or that they were doing kink wrong. All that mattered was that they both were on board and enjoying the hell out of it.
“Maybe the first man on earth to turn down a blow job,” she teased.
“I never said I turned you down.” Lane lowered his hand and finished dragging down his zipper. The faint sound of the zipper releasing had her teeth digging into her lip. He took his cock in his palm, looming over her, teasing her with the sight of his thick erection. He gave himself a leisurely stroke, spreading fluid over the head. “You should see your face right now.”
“Annoyance? Disdain?”
He chuckled. “More like I just offered you a big, fat slice of chocolate cake and you’re starved.” He brushed the tip of his finger over her bottom lip, spreading some of his fluid there. “Suck my cock, gorgeous. I know how much you want to. I know how wet it’s going to make you.”
She sent him a wry smile even as a ripple of anticipation went up her spine and his taste hit her tongue. “Someone’s confident.”
The green of his eyes was almost black in the lamplight. “Don’t think it’s going to do it for you?”
She shrugged, feigning indifference. In all honestly, she really didn’t know how she’d react. She wanted this, but she wasn’t ruling out bad memories taking over the minute she got into it.
“Stand up.”
The command confused her, but she got to her feet. Lane reached out and dragged her dress up her hips. Hunger flared in his gaze when he discovered she was wearing garters and stockings along with her satin panties. But if he approved, he kept any thoughts to himself. “Looks like you’ve made a mess of yourself already. Unsnap the garters and take your panties off.”
She did as she was told, enjoying the way his eyes followed her every move, how he casually stroked himself at the sight of her.
When she stood upright again, he put out his hand. “Give them to me.”
She handed them over and he stepped closer, the tip of his erection brushing against her hip. He kept his eyes on her face as he tucked his hand between her legs and swiped at her with her panties, drying her damp skin but also dragging satin over her clit and making her knees want to buckle. Every nerve ending was on high alert.
“There,” he said against her ear. “I’ll see what state you’re in after. If having my cock in your mouth doesn’t make you wet, you win.”
Her nipples were hard against his chest, her whole body tingling now, every inch sensitive. “What do I win?”
“What you like the best. Being right. And you’ll be in charge the rest of the night.”
“And if I lose?”
He slid his hand down to her ass and squeezed. “You’re mine to use however I want.”
Anticipation rolled through her like a tidal wave and she nodded. “You’re on.”
“On your knees, doc. Let’s see if that mouth is useful for more than smartass comments.” He gripped her shoulder and guided her down, using just enough pressure to make her feel like she was resisting and he was forcing.
She didn’t know why that did it for her, but it did. She wasn’t going to question it any longer.
Her knees landed softly on the hotel carpet and she reached out, placing her hand over his where he gripped his erection. They stroked together for a moment and then he braced a hand above her on the door and guided himself to her mouth, but he didn’t push his way in. He brushed the tip over her lips, painting her mouth with the salty fluid that had escaped, but making it clear she was going to have to make the next move. He wasn’t going to force this.
Part of her wished he would. Anxiety was trying to invade her brain. The last time she’d done this to a man, she’d tasted another woman on him. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, the scent of Lane filling her senses. She would not let Henry ruin another thing for her. This was Lane, a man who meant something to her. A man she wanted to enjoy, to give pleasure to.
She parted her lips and enveloped his cock with the wet heat of her mouth. Salt. Warmth. Velvet skin. Lane. A wash of hot desire went through her.
“Doc…fuck.” Lane groaned and his free hand went to her hair, lacing his fingers in it and gripping.
The unedited reaction, the clear appreciation in the way he’d whispered the words was all the encouragement she needed. There was no room for any of the ugly stuff to steal the moment from her. All that was left were the two of them, connected in one of the most intimate ways possible, making each other feel good.
She eased back and then took him deeper, swirling her tongue around him and sliding her hands up his thighs to hold on, to feel the muscles tighten and flex beneath her fingers, to feel how she was affecting him. She didn’t have to think about if she was doing it right. Lane’s reactions were visceral and generous, sexy. The sounds he made, his flavor on her tongue, the almost harsh grip on her hair.
“No half effort from you, doc. You trying to get me to come so that I can’t do all the bad things I was promising?” he asked, his voice gritty but tone still teasing.
She pulled off and then dragged her tongue over his sac and up the length of him in one long swipe, taking her time and enjoying the torture she was meting out. When he cursed, she peered up at him and smiled, sending a silent challenge. But instead of his normally cocky expression, a tender look crossed his face, one that said he saw her, that he knew what amount of trust this was taking for her to do this.
It nearly undid her. She closed her eyes again, the feelings welling in her more than she wanted to deal with right now, and took him back into her mouth. She doubled her efforts, wanting to focus on the sensations, on the act, on worshipping his cock with her tongue. Not on the heavy stuff. On the what happens next. She couldn’t think that far or she was going to panic.
“Elle.” His grip in her hair tightened, his hips rocking into her now, his own control waning. “Baby, pull away if you don’t want me to come in your mouth.”
She appreciated the warning but she didn’t back off. She could feel how close he was, the tension, feel the victory of knowing she’d brought him to his edge. He was at her mercy now. She would finish what she’d started.
Seconds later, he ground out her name and held her head against him, his release spilling against her tongue and flooding her with his taste. Even though she’d prepared herself, the force of it still caught her off guard, throwing her off her rhythm. She sucked and swallowed down what she could, not managing all of it. It was messy and primal and hot.
So. Very. Hot.
Her body flushed warm everywhere. Aching. Needy. Throbbing.
The potent reaction knocked her off balance. Was this what it was supposed to be like? Never in her life had giving head been so erotic. Every erogenous zone in her body pulsed as if she’d been the one being stimulated. She wanted to yank off all of his clothes, tumble him to the floor, and demand he get hard again so she could have him inside her.
Lane pulled her to her feet before either of them had caught their breath.
“Christ,” he whispered. He pressed a kiss to her hair and breathed her in like he was still getting himself together, but then he backed away, his attention going to her mouth. Her hand flew up to fix things, but he blocked her. He brushed his thumb over the corner of her mouth where some of his release had escaped and he held it to her lips. “Finish.”
She sucked the pad of his thumb, holding his gaze and watching the way his pupils dilated.
“You are the sexiest woman I�
��ve ever met, Elle McCray,” he said, his tone dead serious.
“I bet you say that to all the girls who give you a blow job,” she teased, her voice light and breathless, her heart beating too fast.
“No. I don’t.” He leaned in and kissed her long and deep, his taste still lingering on her tongue and his appreciation clear in every move.
She groaned into it, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her need to be skin-to-skin making her dizzy. He’d teased her about begging earlier, but now she might be ready to do it for real. He slid his hand down her body and found the throbbing heat between her thighs. His fingers slid over swollen, embarrassingly slick flesh.
He smiled against her mouth. “And in a crushing defeat…”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t play fair.”
He tucked two long fingers inside her, making electricity spark over her skin and her words lodge in her throat. “Who said anything about playing fair? I like to win. I especially like to win when it means getting my cock sucked and having a beautiful doctor so wet her thighs are slick.”
Her head tilted back against the door. “Somehow I don’t feel like I’m losing right now.”
“That’s the best part. Even the loser gets a prize. Me.”
She snorted but the sound cut off halfway through because Lane lowered himself to his knees, his fingers still buried deep inside her, and put his mouth to her. Her body bucked instantly, the feel of his hot mouth almost too much at once. Her hands went to his shoulders, grappling for balance in case her knees gave out.
But soon he was guiding her thigh over his shoulder and pressing her into the door, holding her in place. Her body opened for him like a book, one his velvet tongue would read every page of. She gasped for air and all the blood in her body rushed downward.
His fingers pumped deep, and his lips and tongue worshipped every sensitive, needy part of her, making everything hum with awareness. Her back bowed and her head tapped against the door in some erotic Morse code. Need to come. Need to come. Lane shifted and kissed her deep between her legs, his tongue working with his fingers to bring her to the edge of her control.
“Lane.” The word was a plea, but she wasn’t sure for what. She felt like she was going to break apart. “Please.”
He made a sound, his lips vibrating against her, and she shattered. It’d been too long and he was far too good at what he was doing for her to hold out any longer. She cried out, probably giving anyone in the hall a shock, and came in a whole-body rush of sensation that had her wanting to collapse to the floor in a puddle of useless limbs.
Lane didn’t let her fall, though. He held her in place and continued to pleasure her until her body began to quake, and then he softened his approach, kissing her thighs with feather-light brushes of his lips.
He slipped her leg from over his shoulder and helped her to the floor. There was no fight left in her body. She settled into his lap and he cradled her against him, soothing words drifting from his lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her hair, stroking his fingers gently through the strands. “I don’t know how we got here, but I’m glad it’s now.”
The words filtered through the filmy afterglow in her mind but instead of warming her, the compliment hit some old open cut. Anxiety shimmered through her.
She must’ve stiffened because Lane stopped stroking her hair. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, trying to fight the reaction.
But he didn’t let her get away with the rebuff. He tipped her face toward him, his eyes searching hers. “Tell me.”
She wet her lips, her throat tight. “The sweet words. They’re making me…it triggers…”
His eyes flickered with understanding, but there was an edge of sadness there, too. “This makes me want to go kill that man downstairs in that ballroom. Make him pay for the things he did to you.”
She closed her eyes as her body trembled.
He pushed her hair away from her face. “Look at me, Elle.”
She forced her eyes open, panic trying to claw at her, and met his steady gaze.
“I will not lie to you,” he said firmly. “I’m not trying to manipulate you. I can’t tell you where this is going or that I’ll always do or say the right thing, but I can swear to you that I am not him. I will never betray you like he did. If I tell you you’re beautiful, it’s because I think you are, not because I’m trying to feed you a line. If I tell you I’m happy that it’s now, I am. Okay?”
The words hit her hard, made her want to cry, but she nodded. “Okay.”
“Good.” He gave her a brief kiss and smoothed his hand over her hair. “Now, the bad news for you is that you lost the bet.”
She blinked.
He traced his finger down her sternum, sending goose bumps in its wake. “Take off everything but the stockings and garters and meet me in the bedroom. I get the control now. And I know a real effective way to chase the memory of any other man from your mind.”
The words zipped through her, dragging her anxious mind back to the matters at hand. A sexy dominant Lane and a lost bet.
She scooted off his lap and held her dress to her chest. “What do you have in mind?”
He didn’t look at her as he got up and headed toward the bedroom. With his back to her, he called out, “Don’t make me wait, cupcake.”
She took a breath, trying to shove away the remnants of the chill that the panic had brought on, and quickly undressed. She crossed the posh hotel room in just her stockings, feeling equal parts excited and vulnerable. But the feeling amplified when she walked into the bedroom and saw that Lane had put his clothes back to rights. His slacks were zipped, his tie perfect, his hands casually tucked in his pockets as though he were there for a business meeting.
But the look in his eyes was what had her breath leaving her.
Lane in full dominant mode.
Holy hell. The guy really should come with a warning label.
He held up a hand when she stepped inside and she stopped, her mouth going dry. His eyes tracked over her slowly, head to toe and back up again. A man in control. A man on a mission. She had a feeling her sexual fantasies would be faceless no more. Lane made a shirt and tie look like the male version of lingerie, but the attitude was what had hot shivers moving over her skin. The cool, evaluating look Lane was giving her set off all her erotic switches.
“Now about paying me for the bet you just lost.” He cocked his head toward the bed. “Sit.”
She lifted her eyebrows even as she made her way across the room and sat on the end of the crisp white duvet, trying to channel her haughty side even as her body ached for him to touch her. “Paying you? I just gave you a blow job.”
His lips curved into a barely there smile. “That was for you.”
“Oh, really?” she said, not hiding the sarcasm from her voice. “My mistake.”
He turned and stood in front of her a few paces away. “You’re going to fulfill your end of the bet with something else.”
She tipped her chin up in challenge. “And what’s that?”
He stepped closer and tugged at the knot on his tie. He pulled it off and held it in front of her. “Close your eyes.”
She eyed the strip of silk. “Blindfolding me with a tie is a little cliché, don’t you think?”
He smirked. “This is for you, too. It will make it easier.”
She had no idea what he was talking about, but she closed her eyes and he tied the warm silk around her head, blocking out the light. She’d played this game with Donovan before, so the loss of sight didn’t unnerve her, but his talk of something being hard for her had her belly tightening.
He brushed the tips of his fingers down the back of her neck. “Very good.”
She noticed he didn’t say good girl. She’d told him once and he’d never forgotten. Every limit she’d ever laid out, he’d respected. That calmed her some.
The sound of a chair dragging across the carpet fi
lled her ears and she sensed him parking himself in front of her. His knees brushed hers, sending goose bumps along her thighs. “If we’re going to do this and move forward, my request is simple. All I want is honesty.”
She frowned. “When have I not been honest?”
“I haven’t asked the question yet.”
She clamped her lips shut.
“Are you willing to give this a real chance?”
She frowned. “Sex?”
His hands closed over her knees. “No. Us. I want you, Elle. Not just in my bed but in my life. Do you want that, too?”
She took a long, steadying breath, old feelings waging war with new ones. “I do. I’m…trying. But even this kind of conversation is freaking me out.”
“I know,” he said softly. “But you’re still here. You just faced a panic attack out there and didn’t run. You didn’t lash out at me. You let us have a sweet moment and you’re still here.”
The words made her throat tight, but she managed a quivery smile. “You better not be therapy-ing me, Lane Cannon. I will punch you.”
He took her hands in his. “Indulge me. Can you give me your trust tonight?”
“With what?”
He touched his forehead to hers. “I want to make love to you, Elle. No mean words, no fighting. Just let me make you feel good my way.”
Any erotic drive she’d had walking into the room went dormant. Her stomach was a pit. Honest words fell from her lips. “I don’t know how to do that. I can’t promise I won’t panic”
His palm cupped the back of her head. “That’s okay. Trust that I’ve got you, that I’ll take care of you. And there’s always your safe word.”
Fear tried to grip her. She didn’t make love. That wasn’t part any relationship she’d had since her marriage, but she didn’t want to shut this down, not after all that had happened tonight. She needed to trust that Lane would keep her safe. She needed to give them both a chance. She took a breath and nodded. “Okay.”