by Lori Foster
Straightening, she went utterly motionless except for the bellowing of her deep breaths.
Ever so lightly, he touched her while still lazily drawing on her nipple.
Groaning, her nails bit into his shoulders and he looked up to see her head dropped forward, her eyes squeezed shut. Her dark hair fell around her face like a curtain.
She felt pressured, he realized, and was already worrying about “performing.” He wanted her back to mindless pleasure, so he redirected her thoughts.
“Just touching,” he whispered to her.
She gave a shaky nod, and said, “I don’t know if I can stand this.”
“I know it’s difficult for you, but I love touching you, Yvette. Here,” he said, licking her nipple. “And here.” He pressed his fingers to her sex, able to feel her swollen lips through the slinky material of her panties.
Her hips rocked once, then stilled.
“Okay?”
“I…” She trembled as he delved a little deeper, tracing her vulva.
“For me,” he urged her, plucking at her nipple with his lips. “Tell me it’s okay.”
Rather than speak, she nodded.
He withdrew his hand from the front of her shorts and instead slipped it underneath from the back, moving over her perfect ass.
She wore a thong.
Groaning, he drew her nipple deeper while exploring that smooth, firm flesh. As he’d told her, the high, loose legs of her cutoffs made it easy to get his hand inside. He eased her up and forward—and got his fingers on her slick, hot flesh.
Silky wet.
Swollen with need.
Leaving her nipples wet and tight, he took her mouth again, drugging them both with a devouring kiss while barely entering her with one finger. She tried pressing down against him, shifting, wanting more, but he outmaneuvered her each time. It wasn’t easy to remember his purpose right now, not when he’d wanted her so long and she was so incredibly hot.
“Easy,” he told her.
But she surprised him by kissing him again, then whispering, “You told me to tell you.”
Curious how bold she’d be, he nodded. “Yes.”
She stared into his eyes. “Then I want your fingers inside me. As deep as you can go.”
Fuck. Control shot, Cannon put his head back against the couch and drew her forward. “Brace your hands on my shoulders.”
Urgently, she did—which brought her up to her knees.
Holding her gaze, he parted her, tested her gently, then slowly worked two fingers into her.
Gasping, she leaned in, rubbing her face against his throat and squirming her hips. “God, Cannon, that feels…”
“Good?”
“So good.”
He knew what would feel better, but, damn it, he was afraid of blowing the moment. Better to let her lead the way right now.
“Kiss me, honey.”
She did, her fingers in his hair, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her body clamping down on his fingers, squeezing each time he withdrew, getting wetter each time he pressed them in again.
She was so tight, so hot.
He brushed his thumb up and found her little clitoris already distended, beaded tight. Teasing over her brought a funny little catch to her breathing. He felt the way she trembled, and he had to believe she was close.
He moved over and around that sensitive little bud again and again, slicking her own moisture over her, rasping, tormenting.
“Oh, God.”
Now, he decided. It had to be now. “Will you trust me, Yvette?”
She kissed his shoulder, bit his chest. Her husky “Yes,” followed by an urgent, “Please,” reassured him that everything would be fine.
“Good.” Taking his hand from between her legs, he turned her to her back on the couch. “Then how about we lose the shorts?”
Her hair tumbled around her. Lust left her eyes dark and heavy, her lips soft and swollen from so much kissing. As he watched, tears glistened in her eyes, but she nodded.
Wasting no time, he dragged the shorts down and off her legs, leaving her in nothing more than a minuscule black thong. He wanted that off her, too, but first…
“This is for me,” he reminded her. “So just relax.” Then he leaned down and pressed his open mouth to the damp material between her legs.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SENSATION SO SHARP should have been painful. Instead it was a nearly unbearable pleasure. Already with Cannon she’d felt things she’d never felt before. Amazing things.
Scorching promises that pushed her nearer to something she wanted very badly.
It hovered close, rolling over her in ever greater waves, only to recede again.
“I need to taste you.”
His long fingers hooked in the waistband of her panties and peeled them away and she didn’t care. She wanted him to see her.
And, God, yes, she wanted his mouth on her.
She was almost desperate for that.
For the longest time he just looked at her—and that was fairly indescribable, too. An incandescent heat lit his vivid blue eyes. Every muscle in his torso looked more defined, much in the way she’d noticed during his fights when his blood pumped harder from exertion. His expression was so focused, so possessive, that he made her feel sexy when she’d always felt ruined instead.
Watching him, she whispered, “Cannon?”
He parted her legs so that he sat between them. His big, rough hands looked dark against her pale skin, feeling over her in a slow sweep that encompassed her shoulders, her breasts—where he lingered at her nipples—then her waist, down to her hips and to her inner thighs where he edged her legs wider still.
His nostrils flared. He breathed deeper.
Narrowing his eyes, he turned his hand against her, palm up. She felt him parting her, then the pressure of two thick fingers pushing in. That was enough, but then he did something, crooked his fingers a certain way and reached a spot—
“Ooh.” Automatically her hips lifted up to that sizzling sensation.
His gaze flicked up to hers, probing, interested, then back to where his fingers worked her.
She shifted her legs, stunned at the climbing pressure inside her, the ache that grew tighter but was so very sweet. It couldn’t be this easy. Not after so much disappointment. Not after—
“Stay with me, honey.” And then, “You’ll like this.”
With building anticipation Yvette watched him bend down until his dark head was between her thighs, his breath hot, his mouth hotter.
He inhaled her scent, and groaned.
She couldn’t get enough air to make a single sound.
Using his thumbs to open her, he licked boldly over her—in her—with his rough tongue.
Incredibly moved, both physically and emotionally, Yvette put her hands in his satiny black hair, stroking, encouraging.
He hooked his arms under her legs, anchoring her with his hands at her breasts, and continued to eat at her until she knew it would happen. Each thrust of his tongue told her so.
Especially since he followed each thrust with a flick up and over her clitoris. She caught herself anticipating that elusive touch, reaching for it, trying to follow with her hips. And every time it happened, she tightened more until she thought she might shatter.
She wanted to. So very much.
Eyes closed in concentration, absorbing every sensation to the fullest, she whispered his name, begging for what she hoped he could give.
“This,” he growled. “Tell me if you like this.” Instead of just teasing with his tongue, he closed his mouth around her clitoris, sucking gently.
The overload of stimulation drew her body taut. She twisted in reaction, but with the way he held her she couldn’t move much.
“Please,” she whispered, afraid that somehow the building urgency would escape her. She held him closer, blind with need. “Please, Cannon, please—”
“Easy, honey,” he murmured.
She felt hi
s jaw against her inner thighs, his fingers on her nipples, the heat of his mouth sucking. “Don’t stop.” She knew tears tracked down her cheeks, but she didn’t care. “Please don’t.”
“No, I won’t.” He shifted so that he held her still with one hand splayed flat on her stomach, and with the other he stroked his fingers back into her, reaching for that same magical spot.
“Ah—” Tighter and tighter, coiling, clenching… “Cannon.”
He made a rumbling sound of deep satisfaction, and the orgasm took her.
Aware only of the awesome release, she gave herself over to it, uncaring of how she moved or how loudly she cried out. Cannon stayed with her, relentless, taking from her until she had nothing left.
As the tension gradually uncoiled, it took her strength, leaving her limp on the couch.
When Cannon kissed her mouth, she got her eyes open. He was over her, between her legs, and with one look at him, she knew he hadn’t come yet.
She wanted to touch him, but honestly, her limbs felt too heavy.
Appearing fascinated, he brushed the tears from her cheeks and smiled at her. “Hi.”
Wow. She’d really done it. Or rather, he’d done it. A little bewildered, she stared at him. “I came.”
Tenderness turned his smile up another hundred watts. “Yeah, I know.” Teasing her, he said, “I heard.”
In the moment, she didn’t mind the teasing, not at all. She was too confused to care. “But…I don’t understand.”
“You’re as perfect as I knew you’d be. And honest to God, babe, I feel like the best lover on earth now.”
“You are,” she told him, meaning it.
He wasn’t nearly so serious. “I hadn’t planned to go so far today.”
Since he hadn’t yet gotten relief, she didn’t think he’d gone far enough. “I am so glad you didn’t stop.”
“Me, too.”
She could feel his erection throbbing against her, yet he made no move to enter her. In fact…she shifted her leg against him and felt material.
He still wore his shorts.
“Don’t you want to get naked, too?”
He kissed her so gently that more tears tried to fill her eyes.
When her phone rang, Yvette said, “Ignore it.”
“Planned to.” His thumbs rubbed her temples as he continued to put butterfly kisses to her face. She felt cherished, which made it difficult to stop the emotional overflow.
A second later, his phone rang. He put his forehead to hers with a quiet curse.
Yvette tightened around him. “Ignore it, too.”
“Yeah.” He sat up, but immediately lifted her into his lap. “Time for bed.”
Oh, good. “Okay.” She grabbed for his shoulders as he stood. She wasn’t a big person, but still, it awed her how he could carry her so easily. He might as well have been carrying a pillow. “You are so strong.”
His smile went crooked. “True, but you can’t judge me by this. You weigh nothing.”
A hundred and twenty pounds was not “nothing,” but she got his meaning.
He put her in the bed, stepped back and removed his shorts.
But not his boxers.
“Unfair. You still—”
Resolute, he reminded her, “Just touching.”
Intrigued, she considered things. “You want me to do to you what you did to me?”
A mix of surprise and hunger froze him. He blew out a breath. Closed his eyes. Stood there, still and rigid, his hands clenching, until he seemed to have composed himself. “I want you to let me hold you while we sleep.”
Oh, no way.
Thinking he only needed confirmation from her, she came up on an elbow. “Don’t be silly. I want you.” Nodding at his tented boxers, she said, “And you want me.”
“Don’t push me, Yvette. This is new for you and we’re going to take it slow if it kills me.”
“But—”
“Don’t make it harder than it has to be, okay?”
He turned the light out and got into bed beside her. Mired in conflicted thoughts, Yvette tried to decide what to do.
He took the decision from her, pulling her close so he could spoon her, one large hand cupped over her breast. After a perfunctory kiss to the top of her head he said, “Sleep.”
Annoyance chipped away at her mellow mood, but she had no idea how to proceed. It seemed he’d made up his mind. Still, she tried. “I’m naked.”
“Mmm.” His hand cuddled her breast for only a second, but given how sensitive her nipples were now, it made her shudder. “I like you naked.”
Calming her heart, she said reasonably, “But you’re not naked.”
“Me being naked wouldn’t be a good thing.”
She thought it’d be a very good thing. “Why?” So that he wouldn’t understand, she clarified, “Why do we have to wait?”
He was quiet so long, doubts began to creep in. At the time she hadn’t cared about much except that reaching the unattainable—that incredible orgasm.
But now…well, maybe she’d done something wrong. Been too enthusiastic or loud. Turned him off somehow. Maybe—
“Stop overanalyzing, honey. Sharing that with you was about as hot as it gets.”
Relief had her slumping back against him. “Then—”
“Fact is, I want more than sex with you.” He surrounded her, hugging her with his muscled arms, aligning his strong, hairy legs against the backs of hers. His scent and heat lulled her; the sweet way he kissed her shoulder made her eyes feel heavy. “How much more…that’s something we’ll have to work out. But I know it’ll be better if we get there one step at a time.”
Her hand over one of his, she traced his knuckles. It amazed her how a man so capable of a brutal one-punch knockout could be so unreservedly gentle when touching her. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“Because I have a boner, you mean?”
She nodded.
“I can handle it.”
She’d sort of like to see that—
He squeezed her. “Mind out of the gutter, babe.”
Hearing his amusement made her grin, too. “Sorry.”
“Go to sleep, and have sweet dreams.”
While so much confusion plagued her brain, she didn’t think she could, but with Cannon holding her, exhaustion won out. She closed her eyes and listened to his even, relaxed breaths, felt the heavy thumping of his strong heartbeat against her back. She realized she felt safe, protected. Not from anything specific, but in general terms.
Until she felt it now, with Cannon, she hadn’t realized how unsafe she’d felt for so very long.
The sense of well-being allowed exhaustion to creep in. As she slipped into slumber, she did indeed dream of Cannon.
And neither of them thought about their phones.
*
CANNON FELT HER body sink against his, her breathing deepen as she fell asleep. Thank God. If she’d asked him even one more time to take her, he’d have crumbled. But as raw as he felt, as desperate as he was to get inside her, he knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself.
She would deny it, but she needed gentleness, reassurance, a considerate lover.
At the moment, he wasn’t capable of that.
Letting out a pent-up breath, he hugged her carefully, protectively.
What the hell had he been thinking?
He’d wanted to sweetly seduce her, to ease her into a sexual relationship.
Instead he’d lost his head and laid her out in front of him. Naked. While he’d still worn his shorts.
He’d gone down on her as if eating her on his couch was an everyday occurrence instead of a fantasy he’d assumed would never happen.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he thought of her sweet taste, how wet she’d gotten for him, how she’d lifted to the stroke of his tongue.
Her broken moans.
The tensing of her slim legs, the fisting of her hands. How her back had arched and her belly had sucked in.
The tears in her eyes after her release had dwindled away, leaving her soft and shaken and dazed.
How she’d looked at him with wonder…just the way she used to.
He gave her ten minutes to make sure she wouldn’t awaken, then, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he slipped from the bed, from her bedroom, and went to his own room to relieve himself. It didn’t take him long, not with her scent still clinging to him.
When he rejoined her in the bed, less edgy but still in need of her, she shifted in her sleep, turning to face him, snuggling in against his chest.
It took him a very long time to get to sleep, but he’d never enjoyed a sleepless night more, or for a better reason.
*
MERISSA DIDN’T ALLOW herself time for doubt. Any excuse in a storm. Yes, she knew that wasn’t how the saying went, but for her and her unique purpose, it worked.
She went up the steps two at a time because if she hesitated at all she’d chicken out. For the tenth time she checked her watch. Only ten-thirty. Not really late. But just in case… When she reached the right door, she tapped softly. If he was in bed, well, then, no reason to wake him.
She’d barely lowered her hand before the door swung open, and there stood Armie. Flushed, with mussed hair. Shirtless. Barefoot. The button and fly of his jeans opened to reveal a happy trail.
Her heart stuttered and almost stopped.
Until she noticed the redhead draped over his shoulder.
As soon as she did notice, he shrugged the woman off, stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him.
They stared at each other…and slowly a frown replaced the surprise in his dark brown eyes. “What the fuck, Rissy.” He looked around her as if searching for someone. When he realized she was alone, he looked even more furious. “I thought you were Kelli.”
Meaning he wouldn’t have opened the door mostly naked if he’d known it was her? “Kelli?” She had a hard time keeping her gaze off his body.
“Yeah, she’s Avril’s friend and…” He looked appalled at himself, which fried his temper and left him brewing like a thundercloud—a thundercloud that had just been wallowing in carnal activity. “What are you doing here?”
At almost the same time, she asked, “Kelli and Avril?”