Yet the moment the elevator doors had closed and they were alone, he’d felt the desire for her kick in with such intensity it had shaken him to the core. Yes, he’d decided he’d let himself go tonight but shit, he hadn’t realized till now just had badly he wanted her.
He’d never loosened the ties of his self-control before, not with anyone, and he didn’t know what would happen if he did.
You do. Chaos and heartache.
Her fingers squeezed lightly and the thought vanished. “Fuck,” he hissed.
“Well? Or, I can go if you want.”
“No,” he said hoarsely. Sure, it would be better for both of them if she left but he didn’t want her to. She stood in front of him, dark eyes liquid, her thumb moving up and down, stroking his cock through his pants, that teasing, sensual little smile curling her beautiful mouth and he just … couldn’t bear the thought of her disappearing.
Which means you have to do something with her, asshole.
Normally that would involve drinks and dinner. A certain amount of foreplay, then a couple of bouts of missionary position or, depending on the woman and what she liked, maybe something more exotic. Orgasms all around.
You didn’t want that tonight …
More breath hissed in the back of his throat as she squeezed him again. “Then let’s play my game.”
Yeah, he could do that. Maybe that would give him enough time to put himself together. Get a handle on the desire coiling like a giant snake inside him. Putting so much pressure on him he could hardly breathe.
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Do it.”
Snow stepped away and he had to fight to stop from pulling her back. Gripping her wrist and putting her palm back where it was supposed to be. On his cock.
She stood there for a moment, her dark eyes on his as if figuring out what she was going to do. Then she began pulling the pins from her inky hair, letting it uncoil over her shoulder like night falling, a silky-looking black curtain.
Beautiful. Goddamn beautiful. He wanted to touch it, run his fingers through it, wind the soft strands around his wrist and use it to pull her head back as he thrust into her from behind ….
Jesus. He shouldn’t even be thinking this type of thing, not when he was so close to the edge already.
Snow reached around her back, the red silk loosening, slipping from her pale shoulders as she tugged the zipper down.
Holy Christ. She wasn’t wearing a bra, the material falling to reveal small, perfect pink-tipped breasts. Then, as it fell farther, lots of alabaster skin, a graceful waist, the little scrap of red lace that were her panties, and lastly, long, slender legs.
His breath caught as the silk pooled at her feet and she stepped out of it. She was exquisite. Every damn inch of her.
Snow lifted her chin and met his gaze. Her dark eyes were full of challenge and even though her blush was almost the same color as her dress, she didn’t look away.
She came closer, right up to him, and he could smell the scent of her skin, sweet, like vanilla, with a musky edge. His fingers curled into fists. He wanted to lick all that pale skin, see what she tasted like. Bite her maybe, not hard, but enough to make her gasp …
“Hmmm, you look hungry,” she said in a husky voice. “Seen something you want to eat?”
“Yes.”
“And what’s that?” Her luscious mouth curved. “Or should I say, who’s that?”
“You know who.”
“Me perhaps?” She reached up for the buttons of his shirt. He’d ditched his tie before he’d headed to the bar so there was nothing to stop her from undoing a couple, spreading the fabric as she did so. The tips of her breasts brushed his chest and he started to feel dizzy, drunk on desire.
“Yeah,” he said thickly. “You.”
“So, go ahead.” Her fingers settled in the hollow of his throat, stroking him like he’d done earlier to her, and she glanced up at him through long, thick black lashes. “What are you afraid of?”
“Losing.” Control. “Our game.”
She laughed. “Perhaps losing wouldn’t be so bad. If you got to have certain … things.”
“What things?”
“Things like this.” Rising on her tiptoes, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his throat, her palms flat on his chest.
Oh fuck. Jax closed his eyes, nails digging into his palms. He wasn’t going to survive this. He was going to lose it. He was going to …
Her arms wound around his neck, her mouth brushing over his. “And this. And also … ” Warmth pressing against his body, pressure against his groin. A soft heat. “This.”
“Snow … ”
She didn’t reply but he felt her teeth nip lightly at the cords of his neck.
And something shattered inside him.
He moved, pushing his fingers into her hair and tugging her head back, covering her mouth with his. At the same time he reached with his other hand for the little scrap of red lace currently masquerading as a pair of panties, pulling hard, the fabric making a satisfying tearing sound.
She gasped but he didn’t stop, kissing her deeper, tasting sweetness and heat and the bite of electricity. Lightning. He slipped a hand between her thighs, soft curls and wetness beneath his fingers.
Snow jerked in his grip, a startled sound breaking from her. “Oh … ”
In the back of his head, something murmured a warning, but he ignored it. He’d been pushed too far. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.
He lifted his mouth from hers, pulling her head back further, exposing that long, white throat. Then he bit her like she’d bitten him, his teeth closing around the delicate cords of her neck as his fingers found her clit and stroked gently.
She shuddered, gasping. “Jesus Christ … .d-does this mean … I win … ?”
“If winning means the first orgasm then yes, you win.” He moved his fingers, circling, stroking, deeply satisfied as she gave another shudder, another gasp, her hips pushing against his hand.
God, she was responsive. She went straight to his head faster and sweeter than the whiskey he’d been drinking earlier.
He bent her back further against his arm, kissing the dips and hollows of her collarbone, moving down to the swell of one pink-tipped breast. He licked her nipple, stroking the wet heat between her thighs, and she gave a low moan. A moan that turned ragged as he eased the tip of his finger inside her. She was tight, so tight. Christ, this was going to be intense.
He flicked his tongue over her nipple then took it into his mouth, drawing hard on her. She tasted … delicious. He wanted to lick her all over like ice cream.
“Oh my God,” she whispered raggedly. “That feels … insanely good.”
He eased his finger into her a little farther, increasing the suction on her nipple, concentrating on her instead of the by now almost painful ache in his groin. He’d never wanted to say “To hell with the foreplay” and go straight to the main event before but Jesus, that’s all he could think about now. The heat of her around his finger, the slickness of her flesh, the soft sounds she was making as he sucked on her breast ….
He couldn’t wait. Not a second longer.
“I … ” Snow panted, her hips moving restlessly against his hand. “I think I’m going to … ”
Oh, no, she wasn’t. Not yet.
Releasing her nipple, he took his hand away, ignoring her protest as he backed her over to the couch until the arm of it pressed against the backs of her thighs. Then he turned her around and pushed her down over the arm.
Fuck, the sight of her bent over like that was incredible. Pale and elegant, the black hair trailing along her back a beautiful contrast to her white skin. The round curve of her ass was just about perfect and the view between her thighs made him so hard he could barely think.
He sucked in a harsh breath, his heart racing.
What the hell are you doing? Taking her over the arm of your couch? Are you insane?
He should stop. He really
should. Before he did something he’d regret.
Before someone got hurt.
At that moment, she turned her head and looked back at him, eyes dark, cheeks flushed. She was panting. “Don’t stop. Please.”
No, he couldn’t. It was far, far too late to stop now.
He dug into the back pocket of his trousers, hauled out his wallet. He always kept a condom in there—he liked being prepared, even though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had to resort to using it.
He took the packet out, flung the wallet carelessly back on the couch. As quickly as he could, he undid his fly and protected himself, then he laid a hand in the middle of her back, stroking down her spine.
She let out a sharp breath, her head hanging down. She was shivering and yet when he let his hand curve over one buttock, she pushed into it. He reached further down, caressing her thighs, indulging himself in the feel of her skin before sliding a hand between, stroking the soft, wet folds of her sex.
Snow whimpered, trembling even more, and the last tie on his self-control snapped.
Ah, God, but he loved hearing that sound, but he wanted to see her face. Wanted to watch what he did to her.
Leaning forward, Jax collected the silk of her hair into his fist, then wound it around his wrist, drawing her head up and back, exposing her neck. She gave a soft moan, her breathing coming even faster. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, and he could see the pulse beating frantically at the base of her throat.
Perfect. She was perfect.
He watched her face as he positioned himself and kept watching as he thrust deep and hard inside her.
She cried out, the angle he was holding her head at making it easy for him to see the bright flash of pain that crossed her face.
Wait. Pain?
This is what happens when you lose it, asshole. Someone always gets hurt.
He forced the thought away, going still and trying to ignore the hot clasp of her body around his cock. “What’s wrong?” he demanded roughly. “Did I hurt you?”
Her eyes stayed tightly closed, her breath coming in short, hard pants. She didn’t speak, just shook her head in a sharp negative. Then she pushed back on him, forcing him deeper and his mind went blank.
Christ, she felt insanely good. So tight and hot and wet. He struggled to keep himself together. “Are you sure?”
A sharp nod this time, a slow undulation of her hips and he was gone. So gone.
He tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back further, and began to move, hard and fast and deep. She moaned, moving with him, and this time it wasn’t pain on her face but pleasure, her cheeks flushed, her mouth full and red.
He couldn’t tear his eyes off her. Didn’t want to. He wanted to see everything, hear everything, because he never had before. Never taken a woman like this. Never made her pant and gasp like this.
“Let me hear it, Snow,” he said, his voice guttural and raw, a stranger’s voice. “Let me hear what I’m doing to you.”
Her mouth opened, another long, low moan coming out. “Oh … please … . Oh … God … please … ”
He slid his free hand around and between her thighs again, stroking the hard bud of her clit as he moved inside her, driving them both on toward the edge of insanity.
“Now,” he growled. “Come for me, Snow,” and she did, a hoarse scream coming from her as he let her go. Then he followed, keeping his gaze on her flushed face, aware of one thing and one thing only as the orgasm squeezed him tight, then pulled him apart.
She was his now. And he didn’t want to let her go.
*
Pandora opened her eyes, her cheek pressed to the cool leather of the couch. Tremors shook her, little aftershocks of pleasure like the land shifting after a major earthquake. She couldn’t seem to get her mind working, her brain totally turned to mush. Vaguely she was aware that the position she was in wasn’t the most comfortable but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to move. She may not ever have had sex—if you didn’t count the cybersex and she didn’t—but she’d brought herself pleasure before. Yet the lonely orgasms she’d given herself had never been anything like the one she’d just had.
Like the difference between a fine drizzle and a raging thunderstorm.
Think you can definitely say good-bye to your virginity.
Oh yeah, pretty much. She’d been terrified she’d given herself away after flinching so badly when he’d first entered her. He’d stopped and she’d appreciated that, needing the time to adjust to the unfamiliarity of having him inside her. When he’d resumed it had hurt but the pain had gradually receded, leaving nothing but pleasure in its place. So much pleasure.
She’d pushed him and he’d lost it, and that made her feel … so fucking powerful. Even though he’d been the one to push her down, grab her hair and pull her head back, told her when to come, she’d still felt like she was in charge. Like she could make him do whatever she wanted. God, there was so much freedom in that.
It made her want more.
Someone touched her, gentle hands stroking her thighs. Someone … him.
She couldn’t stop shivering, so oversensitive the slightest touch felt almost too much.
His hands slid around her front, his arms coming around her, pulling her up from the couch and back against him, holding her there.
“Are you okay?”
His voice was dark and rough in her ear and she closed her eyes again, relaxing against the hard warmth of him at her back. “Yeah,” she said thickly. “That was … amazing.”
Silence behind her.
“I hurt you.”
She let out a breath. “It was fine.”
“No.” His arms tightened. “It wasn’t fine.”
Shit, was he going to make her explain? She hoped to God not. Explaining she wasn’t experienced was one thing but admitting she was a virgin was quite another. “Hey, it’s no drama. Can we just forget—”
“Tell me.” Beneath the rough edge, iron lurked. Iron and absolute authority.
Pandora scowled, the good feeling seeping away. Jesus, she was so sick of people telling her what to do. “What would you do if I didn’t tell you? Spank me until I did?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
A small, electric thrill shot through her. Would he really do it? Shit, she could probably make him. “Why not? I might like it.”
He let out a breath, tension in the hard body at her back. “I lost control. I caused you pain. That should never have happened.”
She turned in his arms, looking up at him. His eyes were shadowed with genuine regret, which kind of annoyed her. “What should never have happened? You doing me over the arm of the couch?”
“I was rough. I hurt you.”
Oh, no. He wasn’t going to turn this into something bad just because he couldn’t handle it. Not the most intense, incredible, best night of her life.
“So?” She lifted her chin. “Yeah, it did hurt. But only because that’s the first time I ever had sex.”
He went still. “You’re a virgin?”
“Well, no. Not now, I guess.”
His blue eyes glittered with sudden anger. “You were a fucking virgin?”
“Interesting choice of language.”
“Don’t screw with me, Snow. Not now.”
“Yes, I was a fucking virgin. So? What’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal?” He released her suddenly. “The big deal is picking up a complete stranger in a bar, then going home with him and letting him bend you over his couch and fuck you. That’s not what a first time should be about.”
“And you know what my first time should be about, do you?” She didn’t hold back with the sarcasm. “Please, do explain to the poor ex-virgin who’s too stupid to know what she wants.”
A dull flush stained his cheekbones. “It shouldn’t be with someone pulling your hair.”
“Why shouldn’t it be like that? What if that’s what I happened to want?”
/> He cursed, wadding up the condom with a tissue from a box on the coffee table, then pulling up his pants and setting his clothing right. “You can’t want that.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t want.” She felt suddenly furious with him. For questioning her and the choice she’d made. The one that had made her feel so powerful and strong for the first time in her life.
He looked down at her, still dressed in his suit. Like he was on his way out to the office or wherever it was he worked. As if he hadn’t just given her the orgasm of the century. While she was naked and bent over his couch, almost broken apart by the pleasure he’d given her. “How can you even know what you want without any experience?”
“You patronizing prick.” Hell no. She wasn’t going to put up with this. She wasn’t going to let him question the sex they’d just had. “My first time can be however I want it with whomever I damn well choose! On the floor, over the couch, on a kitchen bench, wherever! If I want it rough, then I’ll have it rough. Or slow. Or tender. Or with whips and chains, if I like that kind of thing.”
The red staining his skin deepened, a dark fire burning in his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Is that so?” Completely ignoring the fact that she was naked, she stalked over to him and jabbed a finger at his chest. “Perhaps you’re the one who doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Mr. Uptight.”
Hunt’s dark brows descended. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Yeah, he was scowling but she could see the dark glitter in his eyes, not to mention the bulge in his pants. She let her finger trail down his chest and over his abdomen, brushing his cock, loving the shiver that shook him as she did so. “Uh-huh. Ridiculous. Right. So, have you ever done any of that? The kitchen bench? The whips? Or the chains?”
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed, grabbing her wrist and holding her tight. “Don’t do that.”
“Well? You haven’t, have you?”
“Stop pushing me, Snow.”
“Bullshit. I think you could use a good push.”
“Not tonight, I don’t.”
“So, is that it then? You had your brush with the wild side and now it’s time for me to go home?”
He moved all of a sudden, dropping her wrist to pull her in close, her body hard against his. “Did I say”—his hands slid down over her butt, squeezing gently, the ridge of his erection pressing between her thighs—“anything about you going home?”
The Billion Dollar Bachelor Page 4