Scandalized!: Risqué Business

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Scandalized!: Risqué Business Page 25

by Lori Foster

Antsy, desperate desire demanded relief. She pushed closer, her breasts crushed to his chest. It wasn’t enough. She wrapped one leg around the hard curve of his thigh, rubbing in slow undulations, trying to find relief from the pressure spiraling tight inside her.

  Their passion took on an edge she’d never felt before. With Nick, she was free. She could demand anything she wanted and he wouldn’t run from her. Wouldn’t send her away. Instead, he’d meet her demands with a few of his own.

  His kiss took on a rougher edge, teeth nipping. His fingers curled into her shoulder, giving her a gentle push back before skimming down to seize her breast. Delaney gave a keening cry of approval when he slipped the fabric away to find her aching nipple. Fingers tugged and squeezed, making her throb.

  “More,” she breathed against his mouth.

  “Soon,” he promised. Then he pulled away. Breath labored, he slid her leg from his thigh and nodded to the elevator door, open and waiting.

  Delaney couldn’t even find it in her to care that someone might have seen them. All she cared about was getting him into her apartment as fast as possible.

  She scooped her purse up from where she’d dropped it on the elevator floor, digging for her keys as she hurried down the hall. She could feel Nick right behind her, but didn’t meet his eyes. She couldn’t, or her brain might reengage. She wasn’t willing to risk it, to possibly ruin the mood.

  At her door, she fumbled her keys. She bent to grab them and dropped them again.

  Nick’s hand closed over hers as he leaned down. Delaney let him retrieve the keychain. She straightened and, eyes closed, leaned against the wall while he unlocked the door.

  As it swung open, she took a deep breath and faced Nick. From the look in his eyes, stubborn and challenging, he wanted it all. Physical and verbal capitulation.

  “Come in,” she invited quietly.

  “You’re sure?”

  Fear, sharp and edgy, cut through the passion clouding her system. But it wasn’t enough to stop her.

  “Come in.” This time she demanded. Not waiting for his response, she stepped over the threshold and tossed her purse and cloak over the nearby chair. Turning, she watched him pull his cell phone from his pocket and dial a number.

  While he dismissed the driver, she held his gaze. Recalling everything she’d read about seduction, all the sex manuals, the romance and erotica novels—to say nothing of Nick’s own books, she knew she had to take charge.

  So she did. Burying her terror behind her fragile veneer of sophistication, she crossed her arms in front of herself then hooked her fingers around the delicate spaghetti straps of her dress and slid them down her arms. The silky fabric washed down her chest, baring her braless breasts to Nick’s gaze. His eyes, a dark, intense blue, watched as if bewitched. She released the straps, letting gravity do the rest.

  The dress poured like a waterfall down her body, leaving Delaney standing before Nick in a pair of skimpy black silk panties and her heels.

  Without saying goodbye, he snapped his phone shut, tossed it to the floor and shoved the door closed. Two steps later and he was in front of her.

  Delaney’s breath whooshed out as he dropped to his knees. Nick’s fingers wrapped around her ankles. When she started to step out of her shoes, he halted her with a tiny shake of his head.

  He trailed his fingers up her calves, so gentle and light she almost whimpered at the move. When he reached the backs of her knees, he pressed his face to her belly. Actually thankful for her Olive Oyl body, with its long lines and lack of pudge, Delaney closed her eyes and her head fell back, her fingers curving into his hair as he pressed openmouthed kisses to her stomach.

  She was pure sensation. The feel of Nick’s fingers, now smoothing up the back of her thighs to grip her butt, the wet heat of his lips as he swirled patterns over her lower abdomen. When he traced his tongue the length of the elastic band of her panties, his fingers sliding under the silk to grip her ass and press her closer, Delaney gave a little cry.

  “Like?” he murmured against her skin.

  She nodded. Then Delaney’s legs went to mush as Nick’s tongue traveled along the inside of her thigh, working up, working down. She tried to lean back against the couch, but his fingers gripped her butt, forcing her to stay upright. Forcing her to focus. Her breath came in soft pants, heat curling deep in her belly. She’d had no idea pleasure could feel this sharp, this edgy. All she wanted, needed, was for Nick to end the torment, to do something about the need coiling tight inside her.

  “More,” she demanded in a husky whisper. “You’re driving me crazy. I want more. I need you to take me higher.”

  “My pleasure,” he promised as his fingers pushed her panties down her thighs, his blunt nails scraping in erotic counterpoint to the soft slide of silk.

  Eyes closed, Delaney felt, rather than saw, his reaction to her nudity. Her body, already warm and ready, heated even more. The curls between her legs went from damp to wet. Her nipples, already pebbled, sharpened to a painful hardness, needing his attention. Would he touch her breasts? Would he taste her moist center? She knew he’d do it all, but what would be first? Curiosity and impatience made her want to scream, but she didn’t open her eyes.

  Then he touched her again. The lightest whisper of a touch as his breath warmed her belly and his fingers trailed up her hips, to her waist, then higher still to cup her breasts. His fingers worked magic, both soothing and torturing her nipples. Delaney couldn’t hold back her moan.

  She squirmed, the pressure building tightly between her legs. Ignoring her unspoken request, Nick brushed soft, teasing kisses over her stomach, then down one thigh. Releasing her breasts, he pressed her legs wide open. She shifted her feet, teetering a little in the high heels. One hand clamped behind either knee, he continued to kiss his way across her thighs.

  Delaney couldn’t stand it, she had to look. Letting her eyes open to slits, she watched him as he watched her. His eyes were a bright, glassy blue, flicking between her face and his hand as he traced a line up her thigh, smoothing and teasing at the same time. When he reached her core, he locked his eyes on hers and traced one finger over her folds, swirling the damp flesh. A bolt of desire shot through her system, making her gasp. Satisfaction sparked in his eyes.

  That look, the unspoken triumph that said he had control of her body, flipped a switch in Delaney.

  “Do you want me to taste you?” he asked. “Do you want me to lick you, to pleasure you with my mouth?”

  She had no problem with him having power in this little game, but damned if she didn’t want it, too. Years of squashing her passion, her temper, were tossed aside. Delany took control.

  She stepped back, grabbed Nick’s shoulders and switched their positions. Still on the floor, he was up against the couch as she stood over him.

  “I want you to drive me crazy,” she drawled. “I dare you to make me lose my mind. To stop thinking. Are you good enough to make my body overrule my brain?”

  His grin was fast and wicked. Obviously loving the challenge, he shifted. Taking her ankle in his hand, he lifted it so it rested on the back of the couch, right over his shoulder. His gaze, and his fingers, traveled in a slow, delicious slide up her leg. Over her calf, his lips pressed tiny kisses. When he breathed, moist and warm, against the back of her knee, Delaney would have lost her balance if not for hanging on to his shoulder.

  “Taste me,” she panted. She didn’t want the sweet courtship of foreplay. She wanted a hot, edgy ride. And she wanted it now. “Use your tongue, Nick. Drive me crazy. If you can.”

  Playtime was over. Nick’s eyes went cobalt, his hand released her leg so it rested on his shoulder. No longer gentle, he scraped his teeth up her thigh. Fingers and tongue, hot and skillful, worked her clit. Licking, sucking, nibbling. Those mythical fireworks flashed behind Delaney’s closed eyes as she wrapped her knee tighter over his shoulder to keep her balance. Swirling and stabbing, his finger and tongue worked in concert to send her higher, drive her cra
zy.

  More. She needed more. One hand gripping his hair, she used the other to tweak her aching nipple. The pressure built, tighter, more intense. Nick slowed his tongue, his fingers still swirling inside her, pressing deeper.

  Then, without warning, he nipped at her clit. The shock, the sweet pain, hit like a hurricane. She gave a keening cry as her entire body convulsed, pleasure washing over her, taking her away.

  Her orgasm kept on going. So did his tongue. Little flicks, soft laps. His hand had replaced hers on her nipple, since Delaney was holding on with both hands to the back of his head.

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped.

  “Still thinking?” he asked, his breath hot and labored against her wet thigh.

  She gave a little laugh. “Thinking about how good that felt,” she confirmed.

  “Not good enough. I want you brainless with pleasure.”

  She gave a shudder, letting her fingers trace the hard planes of his face. He was so hot, so sexy. So gorgeous. And for now, he was all hers. Any way she wanted.

  “I want to feel your dick inside me,” she told him. “I want everything you’ve got, and then I want it again.”

  In an instant, he was up and stripping. Clothes flew left and right, Delaney helping him with tugs and tears at the fabric. She needed to feel him, to taste his hard, silky flesh.

  Before she could, though, he pulled her down to the floor. On their knees, he raised one brow in obvious question. The power and the choices were hers.

  Damn, she loved this.

  Delaney pushed him so he lay back on the floor. Then after a quick flick of her tongue over the straining head of his rock-hard penis, she slid up his body.

  Her mouth took his in voracious need, tongues sparring for control. Just as Nick seemed to think he’d won, Delaney shifted.

  One quick slide, and she took the hard, pounding length of him inside her. She groaned against his mouth at the pleasure of it. Nick shuddered, his hands gripping her waist.

  Delaney righted herself, looking down at him. Slowly at first, she rode. Up. Down. He shifted his hands to cup her breasts, his fingers flicking at the turgid nipples in time with Delaney’s rhythm.

  Her breath coming in gasps, the orgasm just out of her reach, Delaney jerked, undulated, needing release.

  Sensing she was close, Nick’s thrusts intensified. Her legs gripped him, as if she could milk the pleasure from him with her thighs.

  There, just there, on the edge, Delaney was about to come. Nick moved, fast and powerful and pulled her up his body. Her pussy spasming with pleasure, he sucked the juices, his tongue and fingers making her scream.

  And Delaney’s mind shut off.

  *

  EVEN KNOWING THE power of sex as he did, Nick was shocked at how intensely he reacted to Delaney’s pleasure. His dick, already hard and wet with her juices, swelled painfully. He had to have her. Now.

  He lifted his hand to his mouth, licking her essence from his finger.

  “Delicious,” he murmured as her eyes blurred.

  Tormenting them both, he stood. He had to prove he could step away before he lost his mind. In an easy move, he lifted her naked body, damp with sweat, to the edge of the couch. His turn to take control.

  He took his time, reveling in the delicious length of her leg as he caressed it from her wet thigh to the gentle curve of her ankle. He’d be dreaming of Delaney’s legs for years to come.

  He took one ankle, then the other, and wrapped them over his shoulders. The view alone almost made him lose it right there, all over her couch. Swollen and glistening, her lips pouted a welcome. Hands beneath her butt, he lifted her higher, giving those lips one last kiss. Her musky heat, the delicious flavor that was uniquely Delaney, filled his senses.

  Her whimpering little cry of delight was all he could take. Nick grabbed the condom he’d set on the couch when he’d undressed and sheathed himself. Then, releasing her until only her ankles rested on his shoulders, he slid into her in a single, powerful thrust.

  Her gasping cry filled the room.

  Needing to move, to go fast, Nick set a quick pace. His hands on her hips, he held her still as he plunged in, out, back in. He watched her reaction through slitted eyes. He couldn’t come until she did, and he was getting closer with each thrust. Her breasts, so small and perfect, rose and fell with her quick, shallow breaths. He wanted to touch them, to take the nipples into his mouth, but he was too far away.

  As if hearing his thoughts, she strained against his hands. When Nick wouldn’t release her, keeping her prisoner to his tempo, she clenched her fingers into the pillows, then raised her hands to her own breasts, swirling those long fingers around the pink tips.

  Nick bucked, losing the rhythm. Her eyes opened and locked on his. She narrowed them, watching him closely as she pinched the nipples beneath her fingers. He groaned. She gave a tiny smile, then lifted one finger to suck it deep into her mouth.

  Nick gulped as she returned the wet finger to her nipple, flicking and swirling faster and faster. Unable to do otherwise, he followed her rhythm. Faster, in and out.

  Her breath came in pants now, her ankles pressing hard on his shoulders as her back arched. When she squeezed her breasts together, crying out her pleasure, he gave himself over to his own. Her inner walls contracted around his dick as he came, pouring into her. The power of his release ripped a bellow from him.

  Damn. Nick could barely catch his breath, letting go of her hips to collapse on the couch with her. With a twist, he shifted them both so he lay flat on the cushions, her curled on top of him, his arms tight around her still shuddering body.

  Nick rode the wave of after pleasure, his body coming down. He’d lost control. Totally lost it. She’d dared him to make her stop thinking, but had he? Oh, he knew she’d got off. But no question about it, she’d been calling the shots. Nick’s breathing slowed to normal, but his heart rate took a little longer. Probably because his mind kept replaying pictures of Delaney as she came. He wanted more. He wanted to watch her come, to feel himself explode inside her. Again and again and again. Delaney gasped when Nick’s dick, ready to play again, stirred against her leg.

  “Oh yeah,” he promised softly. “I’m going to spend the entire night making you lose your mind.”

  *

  DELANEY’S BODY FELT FABULOUS. Warm, oddly achy and seriously sated. Her limbs were too heavy to move. Foggy from sleeping, her mind was much slower to awaken. Pleasure washed over her, a bone-deep emotional satisfaction at odds with her normal irritation at greeting the morning.

  It was the unfamiliar hand cupping her breast that pulled her from sleep. Confused, she patted the hand with her own, noting the sprinkling of hair on the arm, the musky male scent filling her senses.

  Nick. It all rushed back to her. Nick, and the most incredible sex of her life. Delaney blushed all the way down to where his hand lay in pseudo-innocence. Her nipple pebbled, poking at his palm like it was trying to wake him.

  If he woke, he’d do something with that hand. And she knew firsthand the things he did were amazing. Memories of their night flashed behind her closed eyes, a wicked smile curving her lips. Emotions, sweet and tender, mixed with the sexual delight. She wanted to hug the feeling close and giggle.

  She’d get up and make him breakfast. Maybe something sweet they could feed each other. She wondered if she had any berries. They’d be both healthy and sensual. With a deep sigh, she imagined serving breakfast in bed. A perfect morning after a perfect night.

  Damn, they’d been amazing together. She had no idea where the wild wanton had come from, but she’d loved it. If Nick’s arm wasn’t wrapped around her, she’d have stretched and shuddered in delight. It was, she realized, like something out of one of his books.

  Delaney’s eyes popped open. Shit. It was exactly like something out of his books. Wild, erotic, intense. Lusty, even. Which proved his point quite nicely.

  And here she was, giggling and thinking about making the guy breakfast. As if lus
t led to moony-eyed looks over orange juice. This was all about the bet. He hadn’t sugarcoated his intentions, and while, yes, he’d been amazing in bed, it was to prove a point. That knowledge didn’t keep the tears from burning her eyes, though. What an idiot she was, falling right in and proving both their points in one night. He was all about lust, and she automatically started weaving hearts and flowers into their experience, trying to pretty it up.

  Delaney swallowed, suddenly very aware of how naked she was. And, she thought as she rubbed a finger over her cheek, she was without her mask. If Nick woke now, he’d see the real Delaney. The messy-haired, naked-faced, emotionally needy brainiac. Or, worse, he wouldn’t see her. After all, she had years of invisibility behind her.

  Neither was acceptable. And both were, she was sure, inevitable. She’d give anything to be wanted—really wanted. All of her—the brainy side, the newly found, sexy side and, she realized, the insecure little girl—just wanted hugs and assurance she was important.

  As Delaney slid out of the bed, careful not to disturb Nick, she told herself it was for the bet that she was sneaking off to shower and put on her pretty mask. But her heart knew it was really out of fear that when faced with her real self, he’d simply look right through her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THIRTY MINUTES, A shower and full application of makeup later, Nick found her in the kitchen. Show time. Delaney gathered her courage around her like a shield and pretended to be calm.

  As she broke eggs into a bowl, he curved his hands over her hips and pressed an openmouthed kiss to the side of her neck. His hard-on pushed, insistent and ready, against the thin silk of her robe, but she forced herself not to reach around and give it the attention it deserved.

  “Breakfast?” she asked in a chipper tone that should have gotten her arrested for its early morning use. “My secret recipe pancakes. I learned to make them at boarding school. Actually, they are my only claim to culinary fame, but I think you’ll like them.”

  His hesitation was a physical thing. She could actually sense him pulling away, rethinking his morning plan. Then he shrugged, his shoulder moving against her back, and stepped away.

 

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