“Damn, Sara, I’m trying to go slow here.” Dash pulled away slightly, whipped his shirt off over his head and flung it away. His hands and lips returned to her body immediately, stroking over her pale, gleaming skin, suspending her in a world of sensation, making her dance sensually against his black satin sheets.
* * * *
He could feel every beat of his heart in the throbbing of his hard cock. Sara was so open to pleasure she was driving his arousal higher and higher. Everything he thought he knew about himself, every limit he had, was destroyed by her natural sensuality. There was no limit to how high sweet Sara could take him. He didn’t think she was even aware she was still whispering the word please with every breath, begging for his mouth, his hands, his cock. And he was happy to share his body for her pleasure.
She moaned into his mouth when he finally kissed her, and the soft sound reverberated in his head. He freed his aching cock, pushing one big finger inside her to test her readiness to receive him. She was very wet. Her softness rippled around him, clutching and tugging at his probing finger, and thoroughly destroying his good intentions.
He had just enough restraint to enter her slowly, pushing the wide head of his penis steadily further and controlling her wild motions with his hard hands. She was whimpering now, completely lost in the moment, and he was enthralled by her uncivil beauty. He thrust in to the hilt, holding himself there in full extension, feeling her hot sex stretching to accommodate his deep penetration. The rush of wetness that accompanied her frenzied cry blasted through his resolve and he lunged repeatedly, driving them both to the jagged edge of their endurance.
When he leaned down and nipped her throat, Sara bucked and wailed her release.
With a final deep thrust, his hot semen burst from him in hard spurts, setting off a second intense orgasm for her. He collapsed on top of her, completely drained.
After a long moment, he anchored her hips and rolled to his back, keeping his softening cock inside her. She murmured and snuggled her face into his throat, going boneless in seconds. And just like that, they slept.
Twice in the night, Sara came awake to the feel of him moving inside her, riding her gently into a dreamy series of soft orgasms. She didn’t even open her eyes, content to let him do as he would. She drifted back to sleep immediately after, and his hard arms held her gently through the dark hours until dawn.
Chapter 6
When Sara finally woke, the bedroom was bright with sunshine. Feeling dazed, she looked around for a clock, but there wasn’t one in sight. She wasn’t even sure what day it was, actually. The only thing she knew for certain was she hadn’t felt so good in her entire life. Her body was tender in places and her thighs were sticky, and she had been thoroughly enjoyed by a strong, virile man.
It felt wonderful.
She stretched in the bed, smiling slightly and remembering Dash and his magnificent body driving her into a frenzy of lust, over and over again. Truly the best night of her life.
That was how Dash found her when he arrived with her breakfast tray and the soft, smug look on her face made his well-used cock throb.
He had put that expression on her face, and looking at her he had a sudden memory of that famous painting called Mona Lisa. It was that same feminine knowing, that understanding of beauty and passion in her smile that had cast a spell on viewers for hundreds of years. It was captivating, and it drew him as a man so powerfully, he was at her side before he realized it.
Sara opened her eyes to see Dash watching her. She felt a new rush of heat and moisture as she took in his appearance, broad, tanned chest bare, muscles rippling as he moved, blue jeans zipped but not buttoned. She wriggled seductively, loving his eyes on her.
Dash cleared his throat and dragged his wandering attention back to the tray in his hands. “I brought breakfast,” he said. “Coffee with real cream, omelet, toast, and sliced melon. I’m sorry I didn’t have any strawberry jam. I know you love it, so I added it to the grocery order. Grange will pick it up today.”
Sara sat up. “You sent Grange shopping?” The image was incongruous, like walking a panther down Main Street. The idea of that cool, dangerous man in the grocery store pushing a cart and choosing from brands of jam tickled her, and she giggled.
The happy little sound made Dash’s heart stutter in his chest. He wanted to hear it every day for the rest of his life. Sara’s happiness was so beautiful to him.
“Well, I have to stay here and keep you satisfied,” he teased, “so someone else has to do the shopping.”
She tilted her head to one side and considered him with a smile. “Yes,” she said. “You do.”
While he gaped and struggled to breathe against the hot rush of blood to his groin, she calmly took the tray and settled it over her lap. “Thank you for the lovely breakfast.” She took a bite of the omelet and moaned. Heavenly.
Dash collapsed on the bed beside her and pretended to clutch his chest. “I had always heard that beautiful women can be cruel, but I never believed it until now. Woman, you just gave me heart failure. I may never fully recover.”
She giggled around a mouthful of toast. His teasing was so precious to her. He treated her like a friend, like a lover, and she was soaking it up. She held out her toast and he took a growling, playful bite, lazing comfortably on the bed and talking with her while she ate breakfast.
Sara stole glances at him as she chewed, marveling at the changes that had taken place in her life. After the experiences of the day before, she could hardly believe she had held him off for four months. If she had known how incredible the sex with him would be, how powerful the need he could create, she could never have stayed away so long. Many times she had felt his bewilderment at her avoidance, and now, she was almost as surprised herself.
His blue eyes, intense and watchful, his devil-black hair, and the strong, muscular body that fascinated her all seemed designed specifically to please. His innate intelligence, his caring, and his drive to protect those smaller and weaker than himself made him a man without equal in Sara’s eyes.
“You’re my dream,” she said softly.
Dash sat up slowly and looked at her questioningly.
“I’ve been alone, always on the outside. My parents were so much older, and they both died when I was in college. And then Martin, one of my course advisors, took an interest, helped me through the funeral planning, and made me finish my class work when I really didn’t care. Even through my relationship with him, I still felt cold inside.” She stopped, trying to find the words to make him understand what he offered to her. “You are like a dream for me. When I’m with you, I’m normal. I don’t feel cold.”
Dash took the empty tray from her and set it beside the bed. He wrapped her up in his arms and leaned back against the pillows, letting her talk.
“I don’t mean to put some kind of pressure on you,” she said seriously. “I just need you to know what you’ve given me. And,” she paused, unsure of how to continue, “no matter how long these affairs usually last, I want this feeling. I want to be with you.”
* * * *
“Do you see me going anywhere?” Dash was torn between fierce joy and exasperation. The mind of a woman was a fascinating thing to him. He had done everything but tattoo her name on his chest to show his intense need for her, and if he understood this conversation, she was giving him permission to leave her in a few weeks or maybe months. However long she thought his usual affairs lasted.
The poor thing still had no real idea of what he had in mind.
He smiled. “Sara, I want you,” he began.
“I want you, too, more every time.” She twisted in his arms to face him, sliding her lips along his neck and his chest. She nuzzled and nipped along his collarbone, and he groaned.
“Sara,” he tried again, “let’s talk about this, about us.” Damn, he sure as hell had never said that before. “Slow up, woman, I can’t think when you’re doing that.” What she was doing was rubbing her nose along his taut b
elly, following the line of hair down to where his erection strained against the denim.
He tried to pull her up, but she grabbed his hands and held tight. The top of his head nearly blew off when she put her lovely face down right on his cock and took the zipper in her white teeth.
She pulled it down slowly, so slowly.
Dash was panting, every muscle in his body rock hard, when she let go of his hands and reached to pull out his hard penis. A pearly drop glistened on the broad head, and her pink tongue licked out delicately to gather it in. Sweat broke out on his forehead as his cock flexed.
* * * *
Sara moaned as the wild taste of him hit her tongue. The heat of his male flesh in her mouth was provocative.
She had never done this before, this act that men seemed to crave. But she could quickly come to crave it, too. His musky male scent, his taste, the way his big body shook as she opened her lips over him. She moaned aloud.
Delicious.
She held the large, plum-shaped head in her hot mouth until he shuddered then moved to take more. A few slow strokes up and down and she was getting the rhythm, sinking over him to take his cock deeper and sucking as she pulled away. His hips were following her hypnotic motions, gently at first and then with more strength, more force, until he was cupping the back of her head in one hand and shoving his penis through her pursed lips.
Sara’s eyes were heavy, the blatantly sexual act arousing her, also. Her gaze met his and she tightened her mouth around him and reached to cradle his balls in one cool hand.
He shouted as he came. His powerful neck corded, and pulse after pulse of hot semen splashed against the back of her throat. She moaned and suckled him, drinking him down. She took all he had to give until his head rocked back to thud against the wall and still he came.
His muscles went limp suddenly. Sara held him inside her mouth for a long moment, and then gradually let him slip free.
She still felt aroused herself, but a curious satisfaction slid through her, curling around her heart and burning away the last of the coldness. She moved up beside Dash and laid her head on his hot shoulder. His arm came around her weakly to draw her closer.
“Damn, Sara,” he whispered, his breathing still labored. “That was the hottest thing.”
“I read about that,” she said shyly.
Dash groaned and laughed. “Your first time? God. You’re a natural, sweet Sara.”
His cock twitched, its hot length still semi-hard against her thigh. She squirmed a little, still aroused, still needing. Not knowing how to ask him.
But he recognized her involuntary movements, smelled the spicy scent of her aroused pussy infusing the air around them. The room smelled like sex, and he loved it.
“Now it’s your turn.” His voice rasped along her nerve endings, making her shiver in feminine appreciation. “Lie back and put your arms over your head. Keep them there, Sara.” His voice was warm and dark, but it was clearly an order.
Shivering, Sara complied, arching her back as her arms lifted, loving the feel of his burning gaze as it rested on her breasts. Her nipples were hard little points against the creamy mounds, and as Dash lowered his dark head, his tongue coming out to tease the very tip, Sara sighed and melted into the pillows. Her soft body twisted involuntarily, trying to coax him into a deeper intimacy.
The pleasure she loved was just out of reach, and she began to beg him softly, wildly for what she so desperately needed.
When Dash finally drew her nipple into his hot mouth and suckled, Sara jerked in his arms, crying out at the tiny climax. Her broken cries seemed to inflame him, and he pulled harder at her breast, hollowing his cheeks and tugging rhythmically at her other breast with his fingers. Her body convulsed, and he groaned deep in his throat.
He shifted above her, pushing down to run his tongue over her drenched slit, tasting the heat and spice of her release. He shoved his stiffened tongue inside her, drinking her essence as her cries escalated. He was everywhere, covering her, surrounding her. His fingers continued to tug on her nipples, his lips plucking at her clit. He nipped her tender, sensitive flesh with his teeth. Breathless, mindless, Sara didn’t know she was begging incoherently and writhing against the black satin.
He heaved himself up suddenly, sliding smoothly into position and thrusting heavily into her wet heat. His powerful movements forced tiny, rhythmic screams from her, pushing her higher and higher until she was riding one long, endless climax, and still he thrust.
Following some ancient instinct, she reached down between their bodies and brushed her cool fingertips against his tight balls.
Roaring, his whole body went rigid and she felt the strong blasts of his release as he poured his scalding seed inside her, setting off another long wave of blazing ecstasy for her. Their eyes locked and the intensity of the moment sent tears running down her face. He leaned in, sipping at them tenderly.
Lowering his head to taste her throat, he buried his sweaty face in her tangled hair. “God,” he muttered.
Sara giggled, still gasping for air. Dash was a heavy weight above her, pressing her into the mattress, but she didn’t mind not being able to breathe. The man was dangerously talented.
“Lethal,” she said softly. But she was smiling as she drifted off to sleep, secure in his strong arms.
* * * *
“We’ve had people watching her house, her entire neighborhood all weekend,” said Isaac. “Nothing. We’ve got every agent we can spare working this case and we know everything about Martin Brent, right down to his shoe size and the name of his therapist. We don’t know where he is yet, but we’ll find him.”
Dash turned away from the window where he was watching Sara and Carolyn set out food for the Sunday night barbecue that had become the custom on the ranch in summer. They were laughing like girls, faces flushed and eyes shining. Sharing some wicked secret, probably, he imagined. That Sara could still blush after their weekend descent into debauchery was charming to him. He felt a deep need to protect that beautiful innocence in her, and wanted just as strongly to devour it. She was turning him inside out.
“We know where the hell he is,” Dash said grimly. “He’s here, close enough to terrorize Sara, to see the results of his handiwork.”
“Well, he hasn’t surfaced yet, but he will. He wants her to be scared enough to jump back into his arms, so he needs to be reachable. Don’t growl at me. I’m trying to state facts.” Isaac held his hands up in surrender.
Dash checked himself. Damn it, he had been snarling softly at his friend. He raked impatient hands through his hair. “Christ, I’m a mess.”
“You’re nuts about her,” Grange said calmly from the doorway.
“He’s nuts, period. He always has been.” Isaac grinned.
Dash grimaced. “Don’t you two jokers have a job to do? Could we concentrate on finding this asshole bothering Sara, and then you can laugh at me all through the wedding.”
Grange straightened. “You asked her already?” His tone was disbelieving.
“No, I haven’t asked.”
“He doesn’t ask. He gives commands. He probably just ordered her to show up at a certain church at a certain time wearing a white dress and carrying flowers.” Isaac was still grinning, needling his friend.
Seeing that Dash was about to explode, Grange stepped forward. “I have a report on Martin Brent,” he stated, effectively distracting his friends and preventing an outright brawl in the living room. He didn’t mind them fighting, had happily joined them on occasion in bars and barracks, but he preferred that his friends didn’t fight each other.
“Martin Brent’s credit card secured a room for a Brent Martin at Hollywell’s Hotel in San Antonio, booked a week ago and registered for another two weeks. He’s a college guidance counselor, so he needs to finish this business with Sara before September, or give up his job. He’s got a month left of summer vacation, so he’s escalating right on schedule for that.”
One of the things that Sar
a had stressed about Martin Brent was his obsessive time-awareness and his down-to-the-minute planning.
“Did you see him?” Dash was a bottom-line man, always.
“No, looks like he hasn’t been there for a couple of days, but his stuff is still there. All clothes hung up, pressed and perfect. Sara didn’t say he was a neat freak,” Grange commented. “He had a couple of things that look like they might be hers there as well. Has it all in this little silver box with Sara’s initials on it. Probably the missing stuff from her apartment.”
“He’s a freak, period,” Dash said softly. The other men nodded.
Dash didn’t even ask how Grange had gotten a look inside the hotel room. Locks and alarms weren’t built to keep Grange out. He could finesse his way into any security set-up anywhere on the planet. The only factor was time. Most conventional locks were child’s play to him. He was through them almost without noticing they had even been there. Dash thought, not for the first time, that he was damn glad Grange had a conscience and a code because the world wasn’t ready for a criminal with that kind of eerie talent.
“We have three agents in rotating shifts at the hotel now. We have three agents in Sara’s neighborhood.” Grange’s voice was cool as he detailed the arrangements he had made. Only someone who had walked with him into some dangerous missions and some seedy bars after those missions would hear the slight shift in tone that indicated the level of his anger. He had perfected his control long ago, but he was not the emotionless man he allowed the world to see. He needed that iron control precisely because he felt so deeply. And Sara was rousing all his protective instincts.
Sara even resembled his younger sister a bit, which would hit Grange hard, Dash knew. Grange hadn’t seen his sister since he had been kicked out of the house as a teenager, and the only person who meant anything to him in that family was Lissa.
Kenney, Laina - Overheated [DIG Security] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 4