by Dee Tenorio
What little of them there was. Blue cotton swathed between strong thighs, cupping the flesh he could almost taste. It connected to a string at the top that wrapped delicately around her hips, dipping slightly beneath the faint rise of her belly. He’d licked her there before. Sucked her flesh like ripe fruit and craved it every day since.
He looked up when she put her hand on his shoulder to maintain her balance as she kicked off the pants. Did she sway toward him, the mound of her sex nearly brushing his lips?
“I take it back. You’re not cruel. You’re evil.”
“Of course I am.” Her wide grin was back, self-satisfied and tempting as hell. Why did this woman consider things like that a compliment? “I also taste like ripe strawberries, but you’re not interested in another taste, remember?”
“No.” He rumbled the word slowly, his hands sliding up those long, long legs to grasp her hips, holding them right where he wanted. His thumbs hooked under the thin waistband. It’d be so easy to snap them right off her. Or brush that scrap of fabric to the side and reacquaint her with the swirling strokes of his tongue over her clit. Between the dewy folds of her sweet sex. Deep into the well of her pussy. He knew the taste of her better than any flavor in the world. Some nights he swore he’d give anything to have her flavor in his mouth again. “You taste like honey. Dark, earthy honey.”
A rich and heady flavor he’d remember for the rest of his life. The nectar had been so abundant he got to lick it over and over again. Addictive enough that she’d had to pry him off after her third orgasm because he couldn’t get enough of her.
He heard her shaky intake of breath. “I thought you didn’t want to have sex with me anymore.”
“Sweetheart, all I ever want is to have sex with you, that’s the problem.” He guided her back into a sitting position on the couch. She was just confused enough not to argue with him. He couldn’t take his hands off her bare legs, though, smoothing them up and down her thighs, cupping the back of her knees before sliding back up to start the circuit all over again. “Finish what you’re going to tell me before I decide not to give a shit about anything but having you.”
She should have pushed him away. She should have cussed him out. Part of him hoped she would. If she’d done anything but what she did do, he might have had a prayer of coming out of this without breaking his own resolve.
Instead, she licked her lips.
And smiled.
Chapter Thirteen
Trina gasped as Cade’s grip on the back of her knees tightened, the none-too-subtle yank on her body dragging her flush against his hips. Her thighs opened without thought, to press herself that much closer to him. As soon as she felt the heat from his heavy erection, it was game over. Her legs clamped around him, unwilling to let him go.
His mouth settled over hers, his tongue sliding between her parted lips, gentle though still urgent. He kept the pressure away from the still-tender split and she wanted to sob from the sweetness of it. Her hands found his shoulders, one sliding up his nape to the thick, too-long swirls of his hair. It was still dark and Frank had no idea where she’d have headed. There was still so much to settle between them, but they had time yet. Just a little to steal away for themselves. The sun would rise soon and brutal reality would come with it. Until then, she could shut it all away and just thank God he was alive. That he was still hers.
Kneading fingers enveloped her hips, tilting her against his cock, both of them moaning when they found the perfect angle. Her clit throbbed, wanting more.
A second later, she was gasping for another reason. Hands under her ass, he lifted her as if she were made of air, stalking to the bed and grumbling the whole way.
“Twenty minutes. God, I couldn’t last twenty damn minutes.”
“Oh baby, I’m sure you’ll last longer than that.”
“What? No, twenty minutes is as long as I could make it alone in a room with you before attacking you.” And that realization wasn’t slowing him down at all. Next thing she knew, her back was on soft sheets, her head on a pillow, and his hands were already pulling her panties off like they were a health risk.
“Why do you think I always keep condoms in my pockets? Ohmygod—”
His gruff response was muffled by her…well, muff, if she was being honest. She made an indelicate noise, a cross between a giggle and holy shit! His hands held her legs open while his hot tongue lapped at her entrance, working slowly up to her clit. Within seconds he wrapped his lips around it and sucked.
She may have screamed.
He definitely growled.
Two of his fingers slid into her suddenly, stroking hard and fast in time with the flicks of his tongue and that was all it took. Her vision went white, her whole body arched like a bow, and kaboom, she was shuddering, crying out for him.
He eased her down, soothing her with savoring strokes of his tongue, using that circular soothing rub of his across the lowest part of her belly while she tried to breathe like a human being again.
Damn it, she’d never come that fast in her life. She looked down at the man who didn’t have the decency to take his tongue off of her pussy before giving her a self-satisfied smile.
She could practically hear him asking, Who’s evil now, huh?
One orgasm and the edge of his hunger seemed to be gratified. It wasn’t even his orgasm.
Still panting, she had to grin to herself. Put the man in a life-threatening situation or drop him in a comedy club and nothing cracked his stoicism or reserve. Get him between her legs, however, and he turned into the commanding but patient, charming, impossible-to-resist lover she’d known was under there all this time.
Giving her a long, slow lick that seemed to roll her eyes up at exactly the same speed, he finally rested his chin on her mound, his eyes glittering in the low light. “Tastes like you missed me. A lot.”
Too much, but she wasn’t telling him that. “Not really. The washing machine at my place has an amazing spin cycle.”
His eyes narrowed and she suddenly remembered he still had two fingers wedged deep inside her. He stirred them, making sure to rub the front wall firmly, teasing that bundle of nerves only he had ever been able to find. “I guess you won’t mind if I say this is enough for me, then.”
“What?” What happened to the guy who always wanted to have sex with her?
“Getting you off is amazingly satisfying.”
“Y-You just said you didn’t give a shit about anything but having me.” That didn’t come out like a whine, either. Not at all. No matter how smug the grin curving those too sexy lips of his was.
Lips still wet with her juices.
“I did have you.” His thumb slid up over her clit, massaging it in time with his strokes. “Maybe a nice hot drink was all I needed.”
A strangled noise escaped her, getting louder still when he started strumming her instead. Her legs shook around him, which he watched with a male fascination she usually only saw over engines. Jerk. He was really going to make her do this. He’d just keep playing her, heightening her need—one handed!—until she gave him what he wanted. Damn egotistic, moronic, self-centered, ass-tastic fuck.
“Fine!” She gave up with a growl, the desperation to have him growing exponentially now. “I missed you. Only you. No man could ever make me feel like you do. I’m ruined for all others. I renamed all my vibrators after you and none of them get me off like you can. Happy now?”
His eyes glazed for a second. “All your vibrators?”
“Cade, for the love of—shiiiiiiiiit!”
He dove down again, capturing her sex in a hot, open-mouthed kiss that not only had her screeching but clawing at his head to keep him from stopping again. Fingers and tongue working together against her—for her? All she knew was that the man was determined to turn her brain to mush. And succeeding. Soooooo succeeding.
Yet, it had been so long since he’d been over her, making her feel feminine and claimed, inside and out. When she’d been with him before, he
r body found a completeness she’d never known anywhere else. Even now, she didn’t feel a single one of her bruises or aches, just the emptiness that even his thick fingers weren’t fulfilling. She needed more than this. More than orgasms that weren’t shared.
“Get my pants! Get my pants now!”
His head popped up again, this time wearing a frown. “That’s got to be the strangest thing I’ve heard a woman say before she comes.”
She lifted her own head, blowing her hair out of her face, unsure how it had gotten there but not really caring. She sure as hell wasn’t going to think about any other women he’d ever seen coming, either. “I want you, Cade. Not when you feel like it. Not when you think I’m ready. Right fucking now. To do that, we need the three condoms in my right leg pocket. Unless you have some closer?”
Cade actually rolled his eyes, sitting back on his haunches and—damn him—taking his hands off her. “Sure thing. I keep ‘em right next to my bait box for random sex partners in the cabin no one knows about.”
Trina fisted the collar of his T-shirt, pulling him over her until their faces were barely an inch apart. “Then get my pants, Evigan, or so help me, I’m going Lorena Bobbit on your ass.”
“That wouldn’t remotely solve your problem.”
How did he do this? The more he knew she wanted him, the more leisurely he became, drawing out the pleasure until she was a whimpering puddle of desperate hormones. Which just made her want him more.
She snarled. “Do I look like I care about solving anything?”
His gaze actually traveled over her completely disheveled appearance before meeting her stare again as if he’d had to think about it. “If I get the condoms, I’m going to fuck you.”
“I know.” That was kind of the idea.
“Look at you.” He frowned, which normally she’d find cute but right now just made her want to shake him. “Baby, you’re bruised all over. I could really—”
“If you tell me you’re going to hurt me one more time, I will rip every hair out of your head.” She meant it, too. He always worried too much about that. “I’ll let you know if something hurts.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“Do I strike you as the type that likes pain?”
“You like causing it,” he grumbled.
“I like making it better, too.” She spread her hand over his chest, stroking so she didn’t pull on him. Her nails skated over his nipple and he groaned. Scooting closer, she pressed careful kisses over his jaw and let her fingers do the walking across his chest. He let her, even turning his face to let her nuzzle his neck. Slow and gentle. Luring him into relaxing. She licked the cord of his throat, grazing her teeth over him until his hand suddenly grabbed hold of her thigh.
“I know you’re fucking with me, Trina.”
She nibbled again, felt him jolt against her teeth. “No, I want to be fucking with you.”
She worked her way back to his mouth, licking at his lips. His hand sank into her hair and he took over, stroking her tongue with his. Moaning into her mouth.
He pulled away to fix her with an intense stare. “If we do this, we’re doing it my way, at my pace.”
She opened her mouth to argue but he rolled right over anything she might have said.
“My way,” he repeated gruffly. “From day one, you’ve been chipping away at me. Picking. Pushing. Trying to dig your way past my guard. You’re finally here. You’re in my bed, and I don’t have a damn thing to feel guilty about except the fact that you’re practically purple. In my book, that’s a hell of a lot to feel guilty about.”
“Cade—”
“You’re not rushing me, not this time. I’ll give you what you want, what we both want, but I’m doing it slow. Careful. If I want to work my way down your legs inch by inch or head up to your breasts, I will. If I want to flip you over and slow ride your ass all the way down to Mexico, I will. And you are going to calm the hell down and let us enjoy it.”
Slow? With him? She’d be dead from satisfied dehydration before he even rolled the condom on. She whimpered at the thought.
“What if I just want you inside me?” she asked, interrupting what she was sure was going to turn into a tirade worthy of a Shakespearean soliloquy. “If I just want to feel you again? To not think about anything but how right it feels when you’re part of me?”
His mild frown darkened into a scowl. Suspicion colored his chocolaty irises, feathering over his entire face. Oooh, the armor is slipping…
“Don’t you remember how good it felt?” She closed that small gap between them again, gliding her lips over his. Licking them and tasting that hint of herself there before letting her own voice drop to a huskier level. “The way you filled me up? How tight I was around you while you fucked me until I didn’t remember my own name?”
But she’d known his name. Her cries of it had echoed on that mountain road so loud that she swore she still heard them every time she’d ridden through since.
“Damn it, Trina.” But he was saying it against her lips, kissing her back. His mouth fitting to hers, his tongue in her mouth where she could suck on it and remind him of other things she was good at. And he let her do it, let her draw him in and lave him and stroke him and suck.
He yanked away, practically dropping her back to the bed. “Where the hell are those pants?”
He made short work of searching out the precious little packets. His hot gaze found hers again as he stripped right there, leaving his sweats and her pants in a tangled mess. His shirt went next, falling onto the couch, instantly forgotten. Who cared about it when there was a more than six-foot-tall work of art headed her way?
She let her gaze eat him up. His fair skin, the chiseled muscle he’d earned with years of brutal dedication to his military training. Would he let her trace her tongue down the trail of dark hair that started just above his belly button, growing in an ever-thickening path down to where his sex jutted out insistently? A two-hand man, she thought lasciviously, watching it bob with each step. Because she could fist both hands around the shaft at the same time and still have room for the plum-colored head in her mouth.
Next time, she decided, when Cade made it back to her, his face in determined lines. He wasn’t coming to play like he’d been before, and God help her, she felt herself cream more just from the thought. He pulled her legs so that her ass came right to the edge of the bed, her knees on either side of his hips. He claimed her mouth, one hand cupping her jaw, while the other lifted her knee, opening her and sliding his length right up against her folds. The bottom ridge stroked her, making her gasp against his kiss. Back and forth he shuttled, teasing but never sinking inside. Just stroking them both, until her gasps became sighs and her sighs became pants. She reached her hand down to grip him, his flesh—slick from her—pumping through her fist harder with each pass. Much more of this and she’d come again. Hard.
“Condom,” he commanded. She blindly found the strip of packets at her side and tore one open. He helped her guide the latex down his length, then together, they both worked him into her hot channel.
She stopped breathing, not sure if her heart was still beating, until he sank fully into her. They stared silently into each other’s eyes, all trace of play gone. She lay back into the blankets, the white shirt falling open over her, while he withdrew. Just as careful, he pushed back in to the hilt, sending so many sensations through her she didn’t know how to process them. All she knew anymore was that his hands were locked low on her hips and she was full of him. Again he pulled back, driving forward faster, each thrust picking up just that little bit more speed. Depth. Power. Until he was pulling her down to grind her clit against his body.
Throwing her arm over her head, Katrina finally closed her eyes and gave in completely to the onslaught of his rapid thrusts. And when he curved over her, his tongue laving her left nipple, sucking the tip deep into his mouth, she was lost.
It was the whimper, she figured, that finally took him from his steady
rhythm. From his control. As soon as it passed her lips, he froze for an entire second. And then all hell broke loose.
Wild, bucking thrusts bounced her while his hands anchored her to him. Breath stolen, tension building, Trina looked up and saw him, raw and uninhibited. Cheeks flushed, skin covered in a gleaming sheen, every powerful muscle flexing in silent concert. Masculine beauty, intensity she could feel on her skin, in her core. So much power, but none of it used to hurt her, only to bring them both pleasure. The waves of that flowed through her, every stroke a rapid-fire explosion until she was nothing but heightened need. Tightening. Coiling.
“Cade,” she whispered, reaching for his hand.
Just like every other time she reached for him, he caught her.
That final touch and she burst, the orgasm crashing through her like sea waves. One after another, bombarding her, and through it all, he held on. Long after the clenching muscles of her core dragged him with her into oblivion, he held onto her. Her center in the blinding maelstrom.
Finally, he fell to the mattress next to her, still buried inside her. She had just enough energy to nudge his shoulder.
“You should…take off the condom.”
Eyes still closed, he hugged her closer. “Uh-uh. I let you go, you’ll find a way to run for it.”
She chuckled, however pathetic a laugh it was. “Like I can use my legs after that.” It was hard enough to use her mouth, much less her limbs.
“Nope. You can’t prove you won’t make a run for it now that you’ve gotten what you wanted out of me.”
She wished he didn’t have a damn good reason for feeling that way. “I can guarantee I won’t leave this time, Cade.”
“How’s that?”
“Simple,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his damp chest. “There’s still two condoms left.”
It took him a few seconds, but his eyes finally opened. “Fine, but if you so much as twitch from this spot, I’m fucking you until you need a wheelchair.” He seemed to think about that for a moment before kissing her again, hard and fast, then getting up. “And for God’s sake, woman, after all you’ve put me through, you’d damn well better twitch.”