by Cherry Adair
"You were going to tell me something when we were out at the luau. Wasn't this it?"
"Oh, boy," she said with a small laugh. "Are you psychic?"
The heated look she was giving him made Michael's blood race. Mesmerizingly beautiful in the moonlight, Tally's eyes glittered, and her soft mouth begged to be kissed. Michael dropped his eyes down the length of her. His white-knuckled fingers gripped the wood railing when he saw, beneath the soft cotton of his T-shirt, her peaked nipples, hard and needy.
When she came to him, he wanted her to come all the way. "And?"
Her eyebrows shot up. "And? And I changed my mind about the line of death. I want you to cross it."
No slow build-up. No prevarication.
So Tally. "Yeah?"
Her smile widened. "Yeah." She carefully plucked Lucky off her lap, uncurled her long legs, and stood. She set the limp cat on the seat of the chair. "I've been wanting to kiss you again, all day," she admitted, closing the gap between them.
His arms trembled with the urge to grab her. His mouth salivated to taste her. The wood grain of the railing etched into the tight grip of his palms. "So have I." He kept his voice mild. "No wonder neither of us could sleep."
Tally lifted both hands to his face. Not that Michael was going anywhere. His feet were glued to the floor.
Her slender hands felt cool and smooth on either side of his face, her touch light as she explored the angles of his cheeks, his nose. A finger traced the line of elastic that ran over his right brow and disappeared into his hair.
"My wounded warrior." Her body brushed his as she rose onto her tiptoes and gently touched her mouth to his. The touch of her lips was as soft as a butterfly's kiss, as maddening as an unscratched itch, as electrifying as the first time he'd taken a girl. His body tensed in anticipation.
Michael held himself taut as she explored his face with her sweet mouth. Her breath smelled faintly minty from toothpaste.
The gentle pressure of her unbound breasts tantalized him as she pressed her upper body against his bare chest and rubbed against him like a cat.
"Michael." Her breathing quickened when he released his grip on the railing to wrap his arms around her slender body. He used both hands to grip her bottom through two thin layers of cotton and pull her tightly against him. She trembled, her arms tightening around his neck.
"Michael," she repeated, her breath a soft sigh as she offered up her mouth.
But he was beyond soft. Beyond tentative.
He crushed her mouth under his and tasted her with the passion he'd kept banked all evening. Hell, for days.
After a small eternity, he dragged his mouth away from her for a few seconds. They were both breathing hard. "Be sure this is what you want, honey. Be damn sure." His voice was thick, hoarse, unrecognizable.
"I am. It is."
He needed them horizontal, now, but the taste of her drew him back for one more sample. With his hand at the small of her back, Michael pulled her tightly against him, drawing her up, and slanting his mouth down on hers with fierce hunger. He swallowed her soft moan.
Openmouthed, Tally returned his fervor, her tongue dueling with his. Michael controlled the urgency by sheer mind over matter. He was ready and primed for action. He wanted to be inside her now. Hard and deep. But it wasn't himself he wanted mindless. It was Tally.
He withdrew his mouth from her hungry lips and tasted the damp skin of her jaw, taking gentle little love bites along the way. Her body vibrated against his. She moaned, and he bit down on the thudding pulse at the base of her throat. Her fingers flexed on his chest as he sucked, and her nails scored his skin.
He cupped the front of her slender neck in his hand, over the bruises that son of a bitch had made on her. Stroked her neck with his thumb. "Know what this is called?" He drew a line with his palm. Down her chest, between her breasts.
"Torment?" she panted through gritted teeth.
He tried to slow his own breathing. It wasn't easy. "Energy meridian."
Her laugh mingled with a groan as his hand glided down her belly. "Please! S-S-ave the textbook f-for lat-ahhh."
He cupped her mound through two frustrating layers of fabric and felt the heat of her. Her hips followed the movement of his hand. Too hot. Too soon. He shifted gears. Up again. His thumb and fingers spanned her stomach, slid over the thin material of the T-shirt, and traced over her rib cage.
"The Chinese," he told her, punctuating his words with small bites on her bare shoulder, "discovered this line, running down the center of your body—" He nuzzled her neck. Her nails dug into his chest, then one hand slipped around to his back and tried to pull him closer. He gave her shoulder a sharp nip with his teeth. "It's supposed to be incredibly sensitive—"
"Oh, God. It is."
"—and runs from here"—he nibbled her lower lip—"to here." He trailed his fingers down her body and across her mound. While his hand petted her below, he shifted his mouth to her ear, nibbling and laving until she shifted mindlessly between his hands.
"M-Michael?"
"Mmm?"
"We-We're on the balcony."
"Mmm."
"The's-same one I threw th-that guy over. Remember?"
He raised his head an inch and, remarkably, wanted to laugh at her vehemence. His lips twitched. "And?"
Tally covered his hand and pressed it hard against her damp heat. "And let's get on with it!"
"Or you'll toss me over the side?"
"Yes!" She thumped her forehead on his chest. "If we don't make love soon I'm going to jump right out of my skin."
"I am making love to you."
"Inside."
"The room?"
"Me!" She threaded her fingers through his hair, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and pulled his face down. "You're at my mercy, Black Bart," Tally growled, nose to nose. "Have your wicked way with me, or suffer the consequences."
He captured her mouth under his and swung her up into his arms without breaking the lip lock. More by instinct than anything else, he carried her down the lanai, through his open door and into his moon-bright room.
Michael placed one knee on the rumpled sheets, then lowered her onto the mattress.
She reached for him. "Hurry."
He gently captured her wrists, then guided her arms over her head, stretching her body out before him like a banquet. "The last time we made love, it was in the dark, and in a hurry. Let's take our sweet time. I like delayed gratification," he told her, his voice rough with need. "There's no deadline. Is there?"
"Are you crazy?" Her hands flexed restlessly under his. "I'm dying here."
Michael chuckled. "La petite mort."
She lay on his rumpled sheets, half on her back, half on her side, her arms above her head, a scowl on her face. "Not yet. And there's nothing little about it! McA-ael!"
Ah, Jesus. He could eat her in one bite. He didn't remember sex being fun. Torturing Tally, seeing her eyes haze with pleasure, intensified his own enjoyment a hundred-fold. He spread his legs to ease the pressure on his balls. It helped. A little.
"I have a real problem with the amount of clothing you insist on wearing, lady." On his knees, Michael threw a leg over her to straddle her narrow hips. He released her wrists, and started sliding the oversize T-shirt up her legs. He took his sweet time, enjoying the way her eyes glazed, and her lips parted on a silent sigh as she watched him. "And since by rights this T-shirt is mine, I'm taking it back."
She grabbed his wrists, stopping the progress he was making to get her naked. "I have a terrible confession to make."
"I know you're not a guy," Michael assured her.
Tally's deep, throaty laugh was wicked and sexy as hell. "That would be awkward, but no." As if she couldn't help touching him, she skimmed her palms up his forearms, then down again. Her touch was maddeningly feather light. "I-I well, I—"
"Spit it out, I can take it."
She chewed the corner of her lip and gazed up at him, the devil in her eyes.
"I'm wearing your underpants, too."
"Jeesus, Tally!" Michael groaned, bending down to bump his forehead on hers. His hand skimmed up her smooth thigh, then across the narrow span of her belly until he found the slit in the underwear.
Chapter Fourteen
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Michael's hand felt cool against Tally's warm skin. She tilted her hips to encourage his fingers, and her chin to capture his mouth. "Hmmm," she sighed, a low hum of pleasure as his palm skimmed across her tummy, and his mouth connected with hers. His tongue was hot, slick, hungry.
While he kissed her, she tried to push down her underpants—his underpants—but Michael put a warning hand over hers, and lifted his head a fraction of an inch.
"Hey," he said hoarsely. "Get your hands back where I put them."
She wiggled her bottom. The hand he'd slid inside her underwear skimmed a little closer to where she wanted it. "You're not the boss of me," she told him breathlessly.
His chuckle sounded strangled. "Pretend I am for a while."
She hesitated, then returned her arms to the mattress above her head, and shifted a little more onto her back to give him better access. "Hmmm. Then do I get my turn to be the boss of you?"
He smiled against her mouth. "Oh, yeah."
She ran the tip of her tongue across his smile, and enjoyed his responding shudder. "Okay."
"Good girl."
"Girl? Oh, boy," she groaned as his fingers skimmed her wet heat. "That feels great. Ahhhmm. Don't push your luck, p-pal," Tally warned, spoiling her severe tone with a moan. She shifted under him. "Can I sit up a bit?"
"No. Why?"
"I don't have any cleavage when I lie flat, that's why."
"Your concern is premature." He nibbled her lower lip. "I haven't got up that way yet. Besides, cleavage is overrated. More than a mouthful is a waste."
Tally went deaf as Michael slid his fingers inside her. He duplicated the movement of his fingers with his tongue in her mouth until Tally didn't know if she was coming or going. The sensation was like the sea, as wave upon wave of sensation bombarded her senses. The waves gathered, and crested closer and closer until she squirmed beneath his touch. Wanting less. Craving more.
"Wait. W-Wait. Wa—" He silenced her with another kiss. His touch was so sure. So exactly… right, that in seconds, her entire body clenched, then exploded in a mind-blowing orgasm.
"Wow," Tally managed when she floated back to earth.
"Enough chitchat." Michael slid the hem of the T-shirt up her legs. "I want my clothes back now."
Tally waved a weak wrist. "Take 'em."
As he took his sweet time gliding the soft fabric up over her hips, he moved backwards to straddle her knees.
She shifted so she lay flat on her back, itching to touch him. She'd get her revenge. Later. Moonlight sheened his shoulders and the muscles flexing in his arms as he crouched there, poised over her like a temporarily tame, black panther.
He paused to brush the string of pearls off her chest. They coiled in a warm heap beside her throat. Tally closed her eyes as Michael's slightly callused palms skimmed over her peaked nipples.
"So responsive." He leaned down, and drew his tongue over her nipple. When she arched her back, he took the tight bud into his mouth and sucked hard. Sensation shot from her breast to her hoohoo in two seconds flat. Tally about came off the bed.
It was several seconds before she noticed that he'd pulled the T-shirt over her head and had tossed it aside. Tally sighed. "Now we're talking."
Michael chuckled as he slid his body against hers, and lay beside her, skin to skin. The hard length of his erection pulsed against her thigh.
She licked her lip, and sucked in a breath. "You have a-amazing con-control."
"You ain't seen nothin' yet," he promised, his murmur low. He picked up the string of pearls and wound it in a figure eight around her breasts. Since there wasn't much of a mound to hold them in place, the warm strand slithered across her skin making her shiver with anticipation. She didn't have long to wait. Michael's hot mouth closed over one nipple while he manipulated the smooth beads around her other breast in a maddeningly erratic motion that had her almost jumping out of her skin.
Just as Tally got used to one technique, the suction of his mouth changed, and he laved her nipple with heated licks interspersed with hard, mind-blowing sucks.
She didn't know where her nipple stopped and Michael's mouth began. Her body was already beyond reason. All she could do was accept. And feel. And burn.
The pearls glided across her skin as they uncoiled from her breasts and traveled down the center of her body. Strangely cool and warm, erotically smooth and sensuous as each individual bead rolled across her sensitized skin and made her body tremble.
The wet suction of his mouth skimmed the shallow valley between her breasts, then latched on to the other nipple.
It was sweet agony, and she almost sobbed, the sensation of his avid mouth overwhelming. "Please. Please. Pie—What—"
While his mouth distracted her, Michael spread her thighs wider, then was very busy with his hand as he methodically inserted the pearls deep inside her. She hadn't even realized that somehow he'd taken them from around her neck.
Tally writhed on the bed. The sensation was alien… not uncomfortable, but… different. The string was a thousand miles long. And Michael was slow.
"Michael—" she began doubtfully, not at all sure she liked the sensation of the foreign objects inside her, filling her.
"Trust me," he whispered darkly, then lowered his head once more to suckle her. Tally almost forgot what else he was doing.
The last few inches of the strand tickled across her belly before they, too, were tucked deep inside her.
Michael lifted his head to watch her. "How does it feel?"
Oh. It felt… odd. "Full. Strange. E-erotic."
He kissed her mouth as if he was starving for her. "How about now?" And he started removing the pearls with agonizing slowness.
The sensation took Tally somewhere she'd never been before, somewhere dark and forbidden. She fought against it, bringing her hands up to try to push the intrusion away.
Michael was relentless. He used his free hand to capture her wrists, then held them there, flat on the mattress above her head. When her legs shifted restlessly, he threw a leg over hers to pin her to the bed. Even trapped as she was, Tally went wild as each pearl slid free, gliding, bumping along the bud of her sex. Pushing her higher, higher. Tally's head thrashed on the mattress, and she fisted her hands in the sheet.
Michael stopped. "Trust me?" he whispered seductively. There was a thread of tension there, a banked emotion she couldn't quite grasp.
Tally tried to catch her breath, which came now in shuddering gasps. "Come to the dark side, Luke… yes. No. All right! Yeeees."
Michael's chuckle vibrated against her throat. The smooth beads rubbed against the very heart of her. Shocking. Electrifying. A glorious, delirious urgency consumed Tally. Her heels dug into the mattress, her hips rocked as her body clenched. She began to whimper as the sensation overwhelmed her. She couldn't. Take. Any. More—
The sensations swept over her. Overwhelming in their intensity. She tried to pull away from them, even while her body arched in response to the drag of the necklace against her most sensitive flesh. She felt the kiss of each individual pearl. Each delicate, maddening, intimate, kiss.
Her head thrashed, and her body bucked.
Michael didn't stop. It was as if he knew she couldn't take any more, and he was relentlessly determined to prove to Tally she could.
He kept up the steady extraction, letting the beads do their magic as they were withdrawn inch by agonizing inch.
When she begged him to hurry, he kissed away her protest. When she wanted to bring her arms up to push him away, or to draw him close, he imprisoned her limbs.
She made a broken sound, and fought the build of sensation. Afraid to let herself fly into that darkness. Afraid to let go of eve
rything sane and familiar. Then she had no choice.
The orgasm came harder, sharper than the last. And went on and on and on as Michael tormented her, withdrawing those damn pearls…
One.
Agonizing.
Bead.
At.
A.
Time.
She cried out his name in a long, heartfelt moan as she came. And came. And came.
Michael gathered her in his arms, feeling the shudders that still gripped her body. They were both slick with sweat. He ached from prolonged denial. But he'd achieved his goal.
She trusted him.
He let her doze in his arms, skin glued together, for fifteen minutes. Then he started again. She gave a sleepy protest when he ran kisses down her center meridian, and closed his mouth over her swollen folds.
She threaded her fingers in his hair as he cradled her hips in his large hands and brought her closer.
"There are no more O's in me, you know," she told him weakly. His tongue pushed inside her, and she moaned long and low. "Okay. M-Maybe one mooore—" She went over the edge.
While she shuddered and fell apart in his arms, Michael slid his body over hers and sheathed himself in her slick heat.
His body bucked and jerked with the intensity of the mating. It took mere seconds for him to come. His groan of sheer ecstasy could probably be heard in Bora-Bora.
After several minutes he rolled over, taking Tally with him. Still hard, still joined, he ran his hand down her sweaty back.
"That's it," Tally moaned. "Uncle. White flag. Pax. I give up."
Her skin quivered as his hand moved down her back. He stroked the baby-soft skin on her bottom. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She kissed the side of his neck. "No more. I can't move a muscle."
He flexed his PC muscle. She went still. He did it again. Tally gave a choked laugh, "Obviously you can, Man of Steel. If you have one ounce of energy to leap me in a single bound, have at it." She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. "Wake me when you're done."
"Sure," Michael lied, rolling her over and plunging deep. She was as pliable as C4, and just as combustible when she sprawled bonelessly beneath him. She didn't open her eyes as he moved slowly. But the more he built the waves, one on top of another, the more she participated. She opened her eyes to glare at him. "No fair."