“Emma, wait up.”
She paused and turned to look at him. That bloody box of condoms taunted him without mercy. “I’m going to the bar to check out who’s there. I want to see if the staff will talk to me.”
“Should I come?”
Yes, please. Preferably with me inside your tight pussy. “No!” he snapped, appalled at his wayward thoughts. Bloody hell, he couldn’t blame his dragon. That was the last thing he needed—to smell her flowery scent and hear each hitch of her breath. He needed sex tonight. That was the only way he could exert control over the taniwha and continue to work with Emma. “I’ll escort you to our room and head back to the bar.”
“I could help.”
“I thought you’d agreed to follow my orders?”
“Hmmm.” She had the audacity to raise one shapely eyebrow and let the corners of her mouth drift upward in the beginnings of a smile.
Jack grabbed her by the elbow and hustled her on their way. Two minutes later, he pulled a keycard out of his pocket and slid it into the door. He slipped the keycard into the wall socket and a single light came on, spotlighting the bed. The rich burgundy cover gleamed, decadent and suggestive of sex.
Jack froze. If he were a superstitious man, he’d think someone was trying to tell him something.
Condoms.
Bed.
Emma.
The ingredients were present. All he needed to do was stop fighting and go with the flow.
Then he heard a scraping noise, soft and out of place. He prowled into the center of the floor space, trying to isolate where the vibration had originated.
Emma sat on the corner of the bed and bent to slip off her strappy black shoes. The soft sigh she made when she wriggled her toes pulled his cock tight and tented his black trousers.
Surreptitiously, he searched the walls and contents for anything out of place or remotely suspicious. Feet shuffled and it sounded as if someone fidgeted. Jack cocked his head, listening for the slightest vibration but couldn’t pinpoint the sound with accuracy. It came from near the in-room bar. Nothing seemed disturbed yet the back of his neck prickled. He snarled beneath his breath, allowing his taniwha senses free rein or as much as he could with a human nearby. Gradually, he filtered out the small sounds made by Emma as she removed her jacket and kicked her shoes out of the way. He sauntered over to the minibar.
“Want a drink?” Jack continued to scan the area, his gaze skimming a large mirror hanging on the wall near the bar. Standing this close, two dark shapes were discernible to his acute vision. They were behind the mirror. He tensed and forced himself to relax. A two-way mirror directly in line with the bed.
“No, drink for me, thanks. I thought you were going to the bar.”
“Soon.” The distinct crackle of wrapping paper momentarily shifted his attention. “What are you doing?” To his critical ear, his voice sounded harsh and a touch defensive.
Damn, he was losing control of this assignment and he loathed the feeling. Sex dominated his thoughts. He winged a glare at the mirror—a bloody two-way one to complicate their case. Aware his famed control was starting to fray, he took a deep breath and fixed himself a whiskey. He tipped back his head and let the alcohol slide down his throat. Although the peaty flavor tasted good, the burn didn’t do a thing to soothe his irritation.
The two watchers remained, and Jack couldn’t decide whether they’d lucked out and scored a room specially set up for voyeurs, or if their cover was blown and they were under surveillance for more sinister reasons.
He poured another finger of whiskey and stared into the amber depths in broody silence.
“There are six different types of condoms in here along with two types of lubricant.” Emma sounded breathless as if she expected him to respond.
And dammit all—he wanted to react.
Perhaps that was the solution. They could reassure the voyeurs by having hot, sweaty sex. Just one bout, he told himself. He glanced at Emma and found her still exploring the contents of her package. She’d tried to do it before but he hadn’t given her the opportunity. His mind grouped sex and Emma in the same sentence too often as it was without looking at visual props.
“Ohhh.” Her small breathy sigh snared his attention, mainly because it reminded him of sex. But then, everything reminded him of the act when it involved Emma.
“Do people really use these?” she asked, extending something in her palm for him to see.
Two pastel-colored hearts lay in her palm. Each bore a suggestion.
Lick my pussy.
Suck my cock.
His taniwha roared at him to grab her, to hammer into her body until they were both satisfied. Jack forced himself to glance away and study the dregs of whiskey in his glass.
Sex with Emma. He flirted with the idea and the possible repercussions. His dragon clawed for sexual appeasement, and Jack knew he’d have to give in or shift and scare the living daylights out of Emma and their silent watchers.
George Taniwha Investigators and Security couldn’t afford the publicity—that was a given. The hand holding his glass started to itch insistently. When he glanced down, Jack saw the sheen of forming scales. That settled his dilemma.
They’d have sex.
He was a professional. He could do this—remain detached and get the job done. Sex was only an exchange of bodily fluids.
Decision made, he swallowed the last mouthful of whiskey and placed the glass on the bar top with a decisive click. His hands went to the buttons on his shirt. He unfastened them rapidly, shrugged from the blue cotton shirt and tossed it aside. He stepped out of his black trousers and chucked them in the direction of his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
Not a shred of fear showed in her expression. A good thing, although he never employed force. He’d show her the goods and gauge her reaction. Then, he’d give her one last chance to say no.
Jack slid his fingers under the elastic band of his black boxer-briefs. A growl of excitement escaped the taniwha.
Emma’s eyes widened at the low, rumbling growl. He pushed the boxers over his fully erect shaft. Her mouth dropped open as she continued to stare. At least she hadn’t screamed and run from the room.
Jack sauntered closer to the bed. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
The ambiance throbbed with silence. Even the two watchers had stopped their fidgeting to concentrate on the action in the bedroom. Jack hoped they were enjoying the view of his bare arse.
Emma licked her lips. “Ah, getting ready for bed?”
“Full marks for the lady,” he said in a husky voice. Damn if this striptease wasn’t winding him tighter than a spring. “Thought we might use some of those condoms you won.”
“Condoms?” Emma cast a nervous glance at his erect cock then at the box full of condoms. She plucked a bright orange packet from the box and waved it in the air. “Do they make them big enough to cover you?”
“It will fit with no problem.” He came to a halt in front of her.
She eyed his cock with misgiving, staring so hard he twitched. “But will you fit?” she blurted.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, Jack wanted to laugh about sex. Grinning, he leaned over and cupped her face in his hands. “I promise that by the time I’ve finished with you we’ll fit perfectly.”
Emma had no idea what made Jack change his mind. He’d refused her earlier advances, but she wasn’t about to object now that he was naked and sporting an impressive hard-on. She’d fantasized about this moment for months. Heck, at least a year.
She stood, ready to unzip her dress and shimmy free in case he changed his mind. If he displayed a hint of indecision, she’d jump him.
“Wait.”
Emma froze, every muscle tensed to spring. Wait, as in stop, he didn’t want to do this? She lifted her head, trying to read his expression. Yeah, right. A book with blank pages contained more information.
“I want to undress you.”
&nb
sp; “Oh.” Emma nibbled her bottom lip while she considered this development then gave a decisive nod. He might as well see all of her straight off. Her body wasn’t catwalk-model material, but with her height she’d look stupid with tiny bones and no padding. Emma hated pretense. “All right.”
“With the light on,” he added with distinct challenge.
In answer, Emma turned her back to present the zipper of her little black dress. Her heart raced while she waited for the first step in her master plan to commence. She wanted to grab. She wanted to touch the dragon tattoo on his biceps to discover if it was still hot to the touch. She wanted to kiss and fondle. But she did none of these things in case he backpedaled and changed his mind.
The zipper whined downward. No fumbling or cursing, just masculine competence that boded well for the actual act. The black fabric slithered downward and caught on her hips until he maneuvered the material safely over the obstruction. Before Emma could move, he swung her off her feet and dropped her on the bed. She hadn’t even stopped bouncing when he was on her, pressing her into the mattress.
“You need to wear more clothes,” he muttered, running his hands around her naked breasts.
“Frightened I’ll catch cold?” God, his hands felt good on her bare skin, his abrasive touch intoxicating.
“I’m going to wonder each time I see you.” He plucked at one nipple, hard enough that it should have hurt. Instead, the sensation traveled straight to her achy clit. Emma arched her back, silently pleading for him to do it again. “Think about your lingerie or lack of underwear.”
Instead of repeating the nipple tweak, he kissed a trail across her rib cage, pausing to circle his tongue around her belly button. Emma groaned, a sudden mass of writhing nerves. He could do whatever he wanted when each caress went straight to her head—each stroke powerful and invigorating. The only thing that might feel better, well, she’d exert her rights to explore him later.
“No bra,” he whispered, his warmth breath feathering across her lower belly. “Panties so brief I don’t know why you bothered.” His tongue traced the lacy elastic band that held her panties in place, across her lower abdomen then from her hip to inner thigh. “And then there’s the stockings. Fuck, they’re hot.”
“I…um.” She was dying here, so close to losing her cool. She stirred restlessly, the urge to beg him to rip off her panties and lick her, trembling on the tip of her tongue.
As if he’d read her mind, Jack tugged them down her legs, but left the thigh-high stockings where they were. His fingers felt callused on her legs and feet, even through the sheer stockings, as he edged the lacy material away. He reared up to a kneeling position beside her, parted her legs and looked his fill.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Don’t move an inch. So pretty.” He skimmed a finger across her labia.
Emma felt the flush of arousal that swept from her head to the tips of her pink toes. She felt wanton. She felt beautiful and feminine. And she wanted him desperately.
He grabbed a fistful of condoms from the box that still lay on the corner of the bed and dumped them on the wooden bedside cabinet before dropping the rest on the floor near the head of the bed. The plastic wrapping crackled as he opened the packet. Emma watched with fascination as he rolled the bright orange condom onto his penis. She licked her lips and fought the urge to fidget even as moisture gathered between her legs. He hadn’t done much more than finger her and she was a quivering mass of desire.
Jack’s hand slid in a long, luxurious stroke down her chest and over her belly, a trail of acute awareness prickling in his wake. A quick inhalation did nothing to counteract her sudden breathlessness. She swallowed, praying her heart didn’t flutter right out of her chest as he drew a finger along her dew-slick cleft. He paused to circle her clit, and Emma started, the zing of excitement almost too much to bear. Jeesh. Was there such a thing as female premature orgasm? Because if she wasn’t careful, it was going to happen to her. A tremor took her, and she strained upward to gain more pressure, her gaze darting to his impassive expression. Why was the man dithering? Did he want a diagram? A set of instructions?
“You’re wet for me,” he murmured.
Well, duh. That was obvious. No point in denying she wanted him. “Yes, of course.”
He parted her legs even farther and moved into the space between. “But not wet enough. Can’t wait any longer,” he muttered almost to himself. Taking his cock in one hand, he rubbed it across the mouth of her pussy, coating the tip of his shaft in her juices.
Her mouth dried, her senses working overtime. His scent filled each quick breath. His touch fueled her desire. The choppiness of her breathing was almost deafening. With a pounding heart, she registered everything and craved even more.
Reaching over her, he grabbed a container of lubricant from the box. He broke the seal and pumped the bottle several times until a colorless gel squirted into the palm of his hand. With a soft grunt, he smoothed the gel in rough strokes along her cleft. Coolness hit her first, tickling and bringing a yelp, laughter, then warmth, intense and pleasurable as the lubricant coated her clitoris and pussy. Jack smoothed the excess along his erection. He probed her cleft, igniting nerve-endings until her breath caught. One finger slide into her channel, and she swallowed a whimper.
Way better than her imagination.
She groaned as he leisurely pumped two fingers inside her, stretching and preparing her for his entry.
“Better,” he muttered as he pushed them inside her for a third time and slowly withdrew. He replaced his fingers with the thick head of his cock and filled her aching flesh. His growl echoed against the walls.
Emma bit her lip, wanting to make an appreciative noise too. Instead, she remained silent, not wanting to distract him or have him rethink his actions. One could never tell how Jack would react. While it made him a great detective, his unpredictability created difficulties in wooing him to her way of thinking.
Desire kicked hard as he pushed his cock deeper. Not much in the way of foreplay, but this time it was okay. Already an orgasm shimmered, just out of reach. She felt stretched, and still Jack kept up the pressure, thrusting and retreating until he was fully seated.
“You okay?” Jack’s glower was downright scary.
Too bad. She was enjoying the experience, she thought dreamily, fit to bursting with happiness. It could only get better when her orgasm hit. “Yeah,” she said in understatement. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” He upped the pace, thrusting and withdrawing in a steady, powerful rhythm that made the bed creak.
So good. Her mind hazed with pleasure as she rose to meet each thrust. Her pussy was on fire. So close to exploding. His hands traveled up to cup her breasts, then he flicked his thumbs over sensitive nipples. Emma moaned. He squeezed one distended nipple between finger and thumb, timing the pinch to coincide with an unhurried thrust into her pussy. The sharp nip sent frissons of pleasure skipping along her veins.
“Jack.” She scarcely recognized her voice. The sensations built higher and higher, and she clung to his broad shoulders, arching her back and meeting each hard shove with a swivel of her hips.
Deep shudders shook the strong shoulders beneath her clinging hands. Each successive drive into her pussy moved Emma up the bed until her head banged against the padded headboard. Jack withdrew again and slammed home. She burned for fulfillment. Burned. Another push into her. Then the next thrust sent her over the edge into a world where sensation ruled. She cried out, riding the wave and wringing out every particle of pleasure.
Jack plunged into her once more and froze. Deep inside, Emma felt the pulse of his cock as semen jetted from him. His arms wrapped around her tight, tucking her firmly against his chest.
He sighed, right near her ear. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” Emma brushed a lock of hair off his forehead, then gave into temptation and traced his mouth with the tip of one finger. “What’s next?”
Jack snorted a sound that might have been a
laugh. She wasn’t sure since she had trouble reading him, which was a damn shame since he was a mystery she was desperate to solve.
Chapter Four
Like any good private dick, Emma started her investigation in small increments and proceeded with caution. She wriggled from beneath Jack, taking him by surprise when she pushed him flat on the mattress. He blinked at her, and she hid her anticipation behind a small smile. Before she enticed him to play she intended to explore every inch of his sexy body. No way was she leaving Mahoney Resort without trying out the toys and sex games she’d won.
Jack shifted away enough to remove the condom and discard it. He opened his mouth and looked as if he would order her to stop. Not gonna happen.
Distraction.
She needed one.
Now.
Emma bent and grazed her teeth over one flat nipple. She plucked at his other one with her fingers in the same manner she’d enjoyed him doing to her. Leaning closer, she slid her mouth across his flesh, tasting salt and smelling a hint of soap. Heady. Addicting. Very yummy. Her busy hands cupped his shoulders and explored farther afield, delighting in each new discovery—firm abs, bulging biceps, the mysterious dragon tattoo, flat belly and an erection that leapt beneath her questing fingers.
A huge, pulsing cock. She ran her fingers along the silky skin, feeling the inherent strength beneath. It was hidden in the same way an iceberg lurked beneath the surface of the ocean.
Jack was an iceberg.
He kept a tight lid on his emotions, never letting anyone close enough to glimpse his true thoughts. A challenge. He made a woman want to explore, to discover what made him tick.
Emma strummed her fingers along the underside of his cock. For the first time in her life, she wanted to try oral sex. She wanted to hold him in her mouth. Taste him.
A growl rumbled in his chest, but instead of alarm or fear, exhilaration swept to the fore. She lowered her head, the desire to experiment, a siren dance through her veins. She cupped his balls in her hands, squeezed gently then licked the length of his cock from base to tip.
Blue Moon Dragon Page 4