“More,” she breathed, her head going back, her fingers digging into his scalp as sensation swamped her. “Do more. Do it all.”
His growl vibrated against her throat, and he nipped her with his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he rasped.
The sharp bite made her whimper, had her hips rolling into his. She shook her head, her eyes wide and blind as the need roared through her. “I don’t care,” she said, and riding the surge, dropped her head forward to sink her teeth into his ear.
He cursed again, his hand leaving her hair to hook in the front of her shirt. He waited until her head lifted, waited until her eyes met the fired blue of his. Then he yanked, sending buttons flying to bounce off the floors.
She gave a brief prayer of thanks that she’d worn a front clasp bra, then it was open, and he used his teeth to drag the cups aside, to bare her to his gaze, his mouth. Her breasts were achingly swollen, hypersensitive. The peaks were flushed a dark rose, already tight and taut and begging for attention, and with a last, piercing look, he lowered his head and gave it to them.
“God!” She bucked in his arms, sensation ripping through her as he devoured her with lips and teeth and tongue. His free hand came up to clamp on the other breast, squeezing and kneading with firm strokes, pinching and tugging at the peak as he destroyed her with his mouth.
He lifted his head briefly, eyes glittering as he stared at her breast, red and wet and swollen from his mouth, then switched his attention to the other.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she panted. Her hands clenched in his hair, slid to his shoulders to clamp down there, scrabbling for purchase as the world slid away. Her hips rolled against him, seeking deeper contact, and she whimpered with frustration. She’d slipped down a little, and his cock pressed into her belly, just a little too high to give her what she needed. Using her grip on his shoulders she boosted herself up, pressed in a little harder, and found the sweet spot. She panted, legs working to pull herself in closer, to grind against that wonderful hardness. She could feel the tension in her belly coiling tighter as he tugged at her nipple with his teeth, as her hips pumped. The tingles started in her fingers, in her toes, the mother of all orgasms beckoning as the edges of her vision dimmed, her body clenching like a fist, bearing down. It was right there...
He wrenched his mouth from her breast, and his hands clamped on her hips. “No,” he growled, his eyes burning bright into hers. “Not yet.”
She whimpered, her hips pushing against his hold. “Yes,” she panted and strained for friction. “I’m so close, please.”
“Not yet.” He took two steps forward, shoving her back against the wall and pinning her there with the weight of his torso as he dragged her legs from around his waist. She fought him until she felt his hands yanking at her waistband, dragging at her jeans and panties. She heard the rending of fabric and didn’t care. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered except the orgasm that remained just out of reach.
Her pants dealt with, he turned his attention to his own, tearing at the fly. She added her hands to his, shoving at denim until his cock bounced free. She wrapped her hand around him, dragging a moan out of his throat as she stroked him once, twice, then swiped her thumb across the tip and through the fluid gathered there.
She lifted her gaze to his as she brought her hand to her lips and sucked the taste of him into her mouth, and in the sharp, bright blue of his eyes, saw the last link on his control snap clean.
He grabbed her thighs in a grip that was sure to leave bruises, hoisted her high, and drove himself home with one swift, brutal thrust.
She cried out, pain and pleasure so intertwined she couldn’t separate them, her pussy spasming and fluttering around his invading length as her body struggled to adjust. He lifted her legs higher, all but bending her in half, and began to move.
Slowly at first, then harder and faster as she met him push for push, beat for beat. Sweat trickled down his face to drip onto her breasts, their bellies rubbing together as he shoved himself deep, dragged back, and shoved deep again. Honey panted, her head back against the wall and her eyes half-closed as she concentrated on the fierce pleasure deep inside, winding tighter and harder with every thrust of his hips, every drag of his cock through the soft, swollen tissues of her cunt.
“Look,” he rasped hoarsely, and she fought to open her eyes.
His face was set, jaw clenched tight, eyes nearly black with hunger as he hammered into her. “Look at us,” he said, his eyes locked on the spot where his body pierced hers, and helpless to resist, she dropped her gaze.
His cock looked huge between her thighs, dark where she was pale, hard where she was soft. The shaft glistened with moisture in the dim light, gliding slick and sure into her. The lips of her sex were swollen, flushed dark and ruddy by the rush of blood, and clung to his shaft in a wicked caress. Her clit was visible above his driving cock, the hood pulled back, so the little bundle of nerves stood out like a beacon, pink and firm and slick. The push and pull of his cock worked it back and forth, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more.
Thinking of nothing else, she let one hand slide from his shoulder down to that glistening little pearl.
“Yes,” he muttered, and her eyes flew to his face. He watched her hand as she reached down, his gaze avid as he continued to hammer into her. “Make yourself come. I want to feel it.”
Emboldened, desperate for the orgasm that hovered just out of reach, she slipped her fingers down over her clit. She jumped at the first touch, her cunt clamping down on his thrusting cock and making him moan, but she was too sensitive for direct contact. She wriggled her fingers further down, pressing the heel of her hand just above her clit. Her fingers spread wide to bracket his thrusting cock as she ground the heel of her hand in tiny circles just above that burning nub.
“Oh, fuck,” she whimpered, the sound nearly drowned out by his harsh groan. The orgasm that for so long hovered just out of reach suddenly bore down on her. Her sheath began to pulse, clamping down as the tremors started. Ethan’s lips peeled back in a snarl as he leaned in harder, pinning her to the wall as he thrust hard once, twice, his cock digging into her, seeming to reach her very core, and with a cry she exploded.
Her body convulsed, bucking hard under the lash of pleasure. Dimly, she felt him push into her hard, trapping her hand between them, her fingers pressed against the base of his cock as ground into her. Through the fever haze of her own ecstasy she heard him groan, felt the pulse of his cock against her fingers, felt it deep inside as he came.
HE LEANED INTO her and waited for the haze to clear. His heart pounded in his ears, in his fingers and toes. It pounded in his cock, still lodged deep within the warm clasp of her pussy. He could feel little pulses around his shaft as the aftershocks of pleasure rang through her. Her chest heaved with her breathing, her nipples digging into his chest through his t-shirt, and he felt a twinge of regret that he hadn’t bothered to remove it so he could feel her, skin against skin.
He hadn’t bothered to remove anything, he realized. His pants were somewhere between his knees and his ass, and her jeans hung off one leg. He’d torn her shirt and couldn’t remember if he’d torn her bra. Didn’t much care, he realized and wondered if she would.
As the sex haze faded, common sense returned and with it, regret. He wasn’t going to do this, had tried to stay away from her. His life was in flux, directionless. He had plenty of money, but no idea what to do with it; he was working a summer construction job for barely more than minimum wage just to have something to do, for God’s sake. He had no business starting something—anything—with any woman, much less a woman like Honey.
“What about a woman like me?” she murmured into his shoulder, and he realized he was mumbling out loud.
“Fuck, I’m losing it,” he muttered and lifted his head. “You okay?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Did we survive?”
The laugh that burst out was weak and rusty. “Barely. If I move, are yo
u going to be able to stand up?”
Her head twisted back and forth against his shoulder. “No.”
“Okay, hang on.” He lowered her legs, moving slowly when she tensed, wrapping her thighs around his hips and holding them there until he felt her lock her ankles together at the small of his back. Only then did he move his hands, hitching his pants up high enough so he wouldn’t trip and drop them both on their asses, and wrapped his arms around her hips. “Hold onto me.”
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her thighs clenching on his hips as he began to walk.
He headed up the stairs, moving as quickly as he dared, the jeans still caught on one of her ankles dragging behind him. Still half-hard and buried inside her, the bounce and shift, the slide of skin against slick skin as he climbed created a delicious friction that had him lengthening as though the violent orgasm of moments before had never been. She shivered around him as he topped the stairs, and she picked her head up.
“Already?” she said languidly, her mouth swollen, her eyes heavy and her cheeks flushed.
“I told you. Every time I get near you, I want to fuck you.”
Her eyes widened slightly as he stepped into her bedroom. “But you just did fuck me.”
“Guess it doesn’t matter.” He raised a brow. “That okay with you?”
“Um. I guess.”
He came to a stop by the bed. “Unlock your ankles,” he told her and helped her slide off his cock to stand on the floor when she obeyed. He held her steady when her knees wobbled. “Steady.”
She nodded, then her eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
She looked down, and he followed her gaze past the torn blouse to the tops of her thighs, wet and slick with the rush of fluid that had accompanied his withdrawal from her pussy.
Way too much fluid. Fuck.
“No condom.” His gaze shot back to hers, her brown eyes wide with panic. “Are you on birth control?”
She drew a breath, some of the panic receding as she started to think. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re okay there.” She swallowed hard. “What about...?”
“I just had a physical about six months ago, and everything came back negative,” he hastened to assure her. “I haven’t been with anyone since then.”
She sagged with relief. “Me, too.”
“Okay. Then we’re okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” His hands flexed on her arms as he tried to think what to say. “We should probably talk.”
“Probably,” she said slowly, her eyes dark and wide on his face.
He could smell her, the warm spice of her skin, her hair, mixed now with the earthy scent of sex. Of him. The combination had his half erection going full hard, and suddenly, talking didn’t seem that important. His hands tightened. “Later.”
She glanced down and sucked in a breath, and when she looked up again, her eyes had grown heavy once more. “Later,” she agreed and tumbled with him to the bed.
Chapter Ten
Ethan woke with his nose buried in a fragrant cloud and the warm, soft weight of a breast in his hand, and had to double-check to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Then the night before came flooding back, and he sighed with contentment.
He should probably be freaking out, but he couldn’t seem to drum up the energy.
Considering how much energy he’d exerted the previous night, he wasn’t surprised. After they’d come upstairs, they’d stripped off the rest of their clothes and crawled into bed. He’d taken his time, making up for the mad rush of their first encounter with a slow, thorough exploration that had her writhing on the sheets and chanting his name. He’d brought her to peak with hands and mouth twice before turning her onto her belly and plunging into her from behind. They’d both been a mess after that, so they’d shared a shower around 2 a.m. before falling back into bed and curling up to sleep like the dead.
Judging by the light coming through the open window, they’d slept late. Luckily, it was Sunday, and he had nothing on his agenda. He levered himself up on his elbow and looked down at Honey.
She lay curled up on her side, her back to his front, her hair tangled on the pillow. Her face was soft in sleep, her skin rosy with it. Her breath soughed gently between her lips, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. She really was beautiful, he mused, and that was just her face.
His gaze skimmed down her naked form, long limbs and firm muscle under soft, fragrant skin. Her breasts were firm, high and round with nipples that when hardened with arousal, turned so dark a pink they were nearly red. They were soft now, puffy and pretty and a delicate pink that glowed against the pale skin of her breast.
She shifted slightly in her sleep, rolling to her back and wriggling into her pillow before settling again. He could see the slope of her belly now, the little shadow of her navel that he found, for some reason, almost unbearably sexy. He circled it lightly with one fingertip before letting his hand drift down to her bare mound.
She was shaved or waxed bare, no hair to shield her from his gaze. Her pussy was still a little red, the lips plump and swollen from the night’s activities. He felt an odd surge of masculine pride, a primal satisfaction that in the most intimate of ways, she carried his mark.
He shook his head, bemused. He’d never had this primitive need to mark a woman before, but then again, he’d never met anyone like Honey before.
She was beautiful and smart and caring, and as he’d found out last night, had one hell of a temper. His lips twitched as he remembered the way she’d kicked him in the kitchen, then gotten right up in his face and yelled.
It was the first time getting yelled at had made his dick hard.
He chuckled as he glanced down at his cock, rising to press insistently against her hip. Apparently, even remembering her temper worked for him. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, and with a sigh, her eyes fluttered open.
“What’s ridiculous?” she murmured. She shoved her hair out of her face and sent him a soft smile. “Morning.”
“Good morning,” he rumbled, taking in her sleepy smile and heavy eyes. “Anyone ever tell you you’re gorgeous in the morning?”
“Hmmm.” She curled up on her side to face him. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah?” He skimmed a finger over her shoulder.
She nodded, her heavy eyes on his face. “Unintentional celibacy.”
“Unintentional celibacy?” He laughed, and she smiled.
“It sounds better than ‘can’t get laid,’” she told him around a yawn. She stretched languorously, a sexy little purr humming in her throat. “God, I feel good. Warm and loose and mmmm, used.”
Her body shifted with the stretch and had his gut tightening with fresh need. “Used?”
“Yeah.” She made that purring sound in the back of her throat again. “Used. In a good way. I really missed sex.”
He lifted his eyes to her face, his lips curling at the smug, purely female smile. “Glad to help.”
“I’d thank you,” she told him, “but I’m pretty sure I did that last night.”
He thought of the hours in the dark, tangled up in the sheets. “You absolutely did.” He leaned down to bury his face in the graceful curve of her neck, drawing in the scent of her skin. “I should probably be thanking you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said with a sigh and arched into him.
He nuzzled her neck, then used his teeth. He chuckled when she squeaked, and bit back a groan when she wiggled closer, the soft skin of her belly pressing against his now fully awake cock.
“Hello,” she murmured and slid a hand down to close around him.
For one brief, lust-filled moment he pushed into her hand, loving the soft stroke of her fingers. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her sleepy softness and pleasure them both, but unfortunately his conscious was louder than his lust. With an effort, he clamped his hand on her wrist, peeling her fingers away as he sat up. “We should talk.”
She
gaped at him for a full five seconds, then her eyes went flat. She rolled away to swing her legs over the bed and was up and walking away before he could blink. Milo, who’d been snoozing the morning away on his bed under the window, lifted his head as she stalked by. She snagged a robe from the chair in the corner, whipping it around her and tying the sash in fast, jerky movements.
“Ah...everything okay?”
“Peachy keen,” she said with false cheer as she turned to face him. He took in the flush of color on her cheeks, the light in her eyes. The warm, sleepily aroused woman he’d held in his arms only moments before was gone, and the one who stood in her place was, unless he missed his mark, supremely pissed.
She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted a brow. “Go ahead. Talk.”
Shit. “That came out wrong,” he began. “I just meant...we sort of jumped in, here.”
She pursed her lips. “And?”
“And, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“The same page. Okay. Here’s my page. We had sex, it was awesome, you still don’t like me, so we’re done. That’s settled, so I’m taking a shower. You can let yourself out.”
She turned on her heel and stalked into the adjoining bath and closed the door. Hard.
“Jesus,” he muttered. He rubbed a hand over his jaw as Milo stood and padded over. Ethan dropped a hand to rub behind his ears. “I fucked that up, didn’t I?”
Milo remained silent, but the look in his soft brown eyes was pity, clear as day. “Thanks for the support.”
He heard the shower come on. He could go downstairs and wait for her, maybe throw some breakfast together and hope she’d be in a more forgiving mood when she came down. Or he could corner her in the shower, take advantage of her temper, and beg for forgiveness when she was weak and trembling from orgasm.
He glanced down at his cock—hard enough to drive nails. “Yeah, I know your opinion,” he muttered. Since he agreed with his dick, he gave Milo a last scratch behind the ears before nudging him aside.
Honey and the Hitman Page 14