But for all her determination, there was a hesitancy about her. A fear that he felt in the tremble of her fingers and the stiffness in her shoulders. Not fear of him, but of her past. The man who haunted her memories even though she’d long since left him behind.
He saw it glittering hot and bright in her gaze when she paused and stared down at him, her lips wet and swollen, her breaths coming in short, quick gasps.
A wave of anger rolled through Boone, urging him to take the lead, to prove to her that not all men were such bastards.
The thing was, he wasn’t a man. He was a vampire and, while he usually maintained complete control, she’d shaken him to the very core. He didn’t trust himself to take the lead, and neither did she. And so, instead of rolling her over, ripping off her clothes and plunging deep, he slid his arms around her waist, up and under her T-shirt and simply felt.
She was soft and warm, and a tremor of heat gripped him.
The easy feel of his hand, not groping or desperate, but just warm and solid and there, was enough to ease the tense set of her expression. Her eyes darkened from a warm caramel to a rich, deep milk chocolate.
She eased her body to the side and sat down next to him. Her fingertip played at the intricate band that circled one of his biceps. “Nice,” she murmured. And then she took his hand, urging him to his feet so that he could stand in front of her and she could tug at the button of his jeans. “But not as nice as this.”
He stared down as she fumbled with the opening and then struggled to slide the zipper down over his massive hard-on.
His hands itched to close over hers, but he held back. Waiting. Waiting. There.
The zipper parted and his massive cock sprang forward, the bright purple head thick and bulging.
She hesitated.
She was having second thoughts again, damning herself for being so impulsive. Maybe she was jumping in the deep end once again. Maybe this would end as tragically as the last time.
Or worse.
Boone steeled himself against the delicious heat coming off her and warred with the beast inside of him. His hands trembled and his own control shook with the force of a category five earthquake. Because he didn’t just want her body at this moment. He wanted the heat pulsing through it, as well. He wanted all of her. Her body. Her blood.
He gritted his teeth and fought to hold himself in check. Not again, he vowed.
Never again.
There was just something about her, something that shook him to the core. At the same time, it stirred a determination to push harder to maintain charge of the situation. He wanted her to give to him freely. Without the damnable worry making her timid and tentative and so fucking scared.
The notion struck. A plum loco thought that no self-respecting vampire should ever entertain. He was a predator. He’d spent a century drinking, feeding, taking, but for once, he wanted to know what it felt like for a woman to give herself. Not because he’d manipulated her, but because she wanted to.
“I want to touch you,” he murmured, but he didn’t move forward. Not until she stared up at him, into him.
For the first time, it was as if she saw inside of him, rather than the other way around. His hunger. His need. His own fear that she would come to her senses, turn away, and leave before he’d had a chance to trail his fingers down her body and feel her quiver beneath him.
The battle waged a full moment more, but then she caught her bottom lip and nodded.
He closed his hands over her shoulders, easing her down onto the mattress before stretching out beside her. His fingers skittered over the soft material of her T-shirt, molding the cotton to her full breasts.
Slow . . .
The warning sounded in his head, and he managed to move his hands away before he could stroke her perfectly outlined nipples.
He scooted down to pull off her boots and toss them to the floor. Then his fingers went to the button on her shorts. His heart pounded and his pulse raced and an ache gripped him from the inside out. He stiffened, fighting the urge that roared inside of him.
Easy . . .
He smoothed the denim down her legs. His fingertips brushed her bare skin, grazing and stirring. The friction ripped through him, testing his control with each delicious inch.
After what seemed like forever, he finally pulled the shorts free of her long legs.
Clad only in a cotton candy pink T-shirt and lace panties, she looked so damned sweet and innocent. At the same time, there was no mistaking the heat that blazed in her gaze. It was as if she’d been waiting for this.
For him.
He grew harder, hotter, and anticipation rifled up his spine at lightning speed.
His gaze traveled from her calves, up her lush thighs to the wispy lace barely covering the strip of mink-colored silk between her legs.
The hunger roared inside him and made him think crazy-ass thoughts. Like how she was just about the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman.
His hands trembled and he felt a driving force wrap around him, propelling him toward her. He dropped to the bed beside her and reached out.
His hands seemed to move of their own accord, traveling the length of her body, encouraged by the soft gasps that trembled from her full lips. She sighed as he traced the curve of one breast. She caught her breath as he fingered the tip of one nipple. A moan vibrated from her throat as he lingered at the lace barely covering her sweet, lush pussy.
He traced the pattern with his fingertip, moving lower until he could feel the heat coming from the plush slit between her legs. Every muscle in his body bunched as he fought the urge to shove her open and claim what was his.
Now. Forever.
The thought registered, but he shook it away.
This was about right now. Tonight.
He coaxed and played until her legs fell open of their own accord. With one fingertip, he followed the edge of her panties. She was so warm. So wet.
At the same time, she was still too stiff and wary, despite the growing desire that flushed her skin a bright, delicious pink.
Boone ground his teeth and willed himself to hold it together. He forced his hand up over her soft stomach, into the dip of her belly button, over the ridge of her rib cage. Her flesh quivered beneath his palm as he moved higher, tracing the indentation of each rib and dragging the hem of her shirt with him. He pushed the material up and uncovered her luscious rosy-tipped breasts.
He circled one turgid peak and watched it grow hard and tight and greedy. Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and lapped at the delicate skin. Once. Twice.
Sensation exploded on his tongue, a salty sweetness that made his mouth water and his gut clench. His gums tingled and he felt the edge of his fangs rasp her skin.
Her breath caught and she went stock-still, as if she’d never felt anything quite as good, and the shock of it rendered her speechless.
But there was more and he aimed to show her.
Leaning over, he touched his lips to her navel, dipped his tongue inside and swirled. She whimpered, the sound urging him on. He licked a path up her fragrant skin, teasing and nibbling, until he reached one full breast. Closing his lips over her swollen nipple, he pulled and tugged, and felt her respond beneath him. She arched, pushing her breast deeper into the wet heat of his mouth, wanting more, and he gladly obliged.
He swept a hand downward, cupping her pussy lips through the scanty lace of her panties. Wisps of silky hair brushed his palm, tickling and teasing and tempting him to the brink.
He released her nipple and licked his lips. The urge to taste her essence, to feel her writhe against his mouth nearly sent him over the edge. He wanted to part her with his tongue and catch her clit with his teeth and show her the pleasure he could g
ive her.
But she didn’t want him to give her anything.
She wanted to take it. She needed to take it.
And where Boone had never been one to slide into the passenger seat and enjoy the ride, he was suddenly more than willing now.
For her. Anything for her.
“Tell me what you want, darlin’,” he murmured, and then he waited.
THE DEEP, HUSKY voice slid into Riley’s ears as she stared up at Boone. His hand had stilled between her legs, his palm pressed tightly to her sex. Tension was etched on his features, and the corded muscles of his neck strained.
It was as if he teetered on the brink of complete anarchy, and it took everything he had not to surrender to it.
“I’ll do anything,” he murmured. “Just tell me what you need.”
She felt the slightest hesitation. A quick wash of fear that rippled through her like a breeze whispering over the calmest lake. But then his gaze blazed a bright blue, like lightning before the first strike. She had the fleeting thought that something was wrong. His eyes were green. Weren’t they? But then the question faded in a wash of pleasure. She forgot the trembling in her hands and the nervous flutter in her belly. She forgot everything except the lust she saw mirrored in his gaze.
Her own lust.
“I need you.” She reached down and covered his hand with her own, urging him to move. “I need this.”
She followed him as he hooked one finger under the edge of her panties and pushed the lace to the side. He trailed his fingertips over her moist flesh and she felt not just his touch, but her own, as well. The tip of her finger followed his, stroking and teasing.
She gasped, her lips parting, her eyes drifting closed at the intimate caress. But just for a moment.
She needed to see him. To see this . . . Every moment. Every movement.
He slipped a finger inside of her and she followed him, feeling what he felt, touching herself the way he touched her. Her legs turned to butter. Her body relaxed.
“Open up, darlin’. Show me your sweet pussy.”
His crass words sent a thrill through her and she opened her knees wide, giving him better access.
Giving them better access. She could feel herself and, while the sensation was nothing new, it felt new with Boone. His touch. Her touch. Their touch.
But he didn’t delve deeper into the soft, slick tissue to increase the friction and up the pressure. Instead, he stared down at her, his gaze so compelling and yet oddly complacent. Waiting for her to set the pace.
And she did just that.
She arched her hips and rose up to meet him. The pressure went deeper, the touch more thorough. The more she moved, the more intense the feeling. The pressure built, so sweet and sharp and yessssss . . .
“That’s it, darlin’. You’re getting closer.”
She continued to move from side to side, creating the most delicious sensation. Her insides melted, sweltering from the invasion. She tried to breathe, to pull oxygen into her lungs, but she couldn’t seem to get enough. Pleasure rippled from her head to her toes and the room seemed to spin around her. Her hips rotated, working, pushing her closer to what she so desperately needed.
Her nerves buzzed and the air seemed to shimmer around her.
She’d masturbated more times than she could count, but it had never felt like this.
Her head fell back. Her lips parted. A low moan rumbled up her throat and spilled past her lips. She couldn’t help herself.
She caught his head and pulled him down, her lips meeting his. She thrust her tongue deep, relishing the taste of him as her body clenched and unclenched around his finger that was still deep inside. He tasted so good and she felt so good, and suddenly it wasn’t enough.
She rolled him over, pushed him down onto his back and straddled him, her knees on either side of his thighs.
She meant to go fast, to ride his hard thick cock with the desperation pulsing inside of her, but suddenly she needed to see him.
To touch him.
She trailed her fingers over his bare chest, felt the wisps of hair beneath her palm, the ripple of muscle as he sucked in a deep breath. Her attention shifted lower and she grasped him, trailing her hand up and down his hard, iron-like shaft. His flesh pulsed in her grasp and a shiver danced up her spine. Her fingertips stroked the long, solid length of him and a pearl of liquid beaded on the plum-ripe head. She smiled and dipped her head, tasting his essence with one lap of her tongue.
She loved him with her mouth as he splayed his fingers through her hair and caught her closer. She pleasured him until his chest pumped from his frantic breathing and his fingers clenched into fists.
She worked him for several long moments before his body went still. Strong fingers closed around her wrist.
“Not yet.” The rasp of his deep voice sent a thrill through her, along with a whisper of power as she noted the pleading edge to his words. “I want to be inside of you when I come. I need it.”
The statement sent a rush of reality through her and she glanced at the nightstand. “Do you have a condom?”
The question seemed to catch him off guard and he actually looked surprised.
She had the sudden burst of hope that maybe he wasn’t as experienced as she’d initially thought. Maybe he was her beta in shining armor after all.
“Top drawer.” He motioned toward the nightstand, killing the notion.
Thankfully. Oddly enough, she couldn’t see him as a beta. Even if she was calling the shots at the moment.
He was too big. Too strong. Too overwhelming.
She grabbed a foil packet from the nightstand, tore it open and eased it over his hard shaft. A few seconds later, she pushed up on her knees and positioned herself until she could feel him pulsing against her slit. Her gaze locked with his. She slid down on his hard, hot length in one exquisite motion that took her breath away.
He gripped the sheets on either side of him, obviously fighting not to touch her. Instead, he let her drive them both to the brink of madness, let her relish the feminine power that she held over him.
She leaned down and captured his lips in a deep, erotic kiss that sent a shiver through his hard body. The sensation of being stretched, filled, and consumed by the raw strength of him stole her breath for several long moments.
And then she started to ride him.
She slid up and down, side to side, building the pressure, pushing them both higher, higher until they reached the top of the mountain and teetered on the edge. With one final lift, she plunged downward, sending them both over the cliff.
Her nails dug into his shoulders as she flung her head back and cried out. His groan cracked open the air around them, and she glanced down in time to see his head thrown back, his teeth clenched, his fangs gleaming—
Whoa. Wait a second.
She blinked her eyes and just like that, the image disappeared and he was simply a man lost in the throes of a very intense orgasm, his mouth pulled into a tight line, his body arched, his fingers balled into the soft cotton sheets.
A man, not a . . .
The word “vampire” was there in her head, but she refused to consider it. There was no such thing. She’d obviously been watching too many movies. She cupped his cheek and felt the warmth of his skin. Stubble tickled her palm and she leaned down, burying her face in his neck, drinking in the scent of hot male.
“What’s your real name?”
The question was there on the tip of her tongue, but she fought it back down. This wasn’t about connecting with him on a personal level.
They weren’t going to talk about their interests and share their backgrounds and actually get to know each other.
She didn’t want to know when he’d gotten the fancy ink on his upper arms or what the “T” bra
nded into his palm stood for—or that both were simply prosthetics.
This was sex. A fantasy.
And she meant to keep it that way.
She squelched an odd rush of disappointment and fixed her attention on the strong arms that slid around to hold her close. She tugged his hand up and touched her lips to the T-shaped scar before she could think better of it. And then she closed her eyes and gave in to the overwhelming jet lag tugging at her spent muscles.
She had no intention of falling asleep at first, but he felt so good that she couldn’t help herself. Sleep called and she gave in.
Just for a little while.
Chapter Seven
WHAT IN HOLY hell was he doing?
Boone forced his hand away from her lips, the brand burned into his palm still tingling from the feel of her kiss, and eased his way toward the side of the bed. Sure, he’d planned to soak up her energy all night, but this was different. This was cuddling, and Boone Jarrett never cuddled.
Cuddling meant relaxing and getting close and going back for more. And he didn’t want more with any woman.
More meant the same old, same old, and Boone wasn’t about to fall into that rut.
To find himself stuck doing the same thing, day after day, working the same piece of land, content with whatever life tossed his way, the way his father had been.
Boone would never settle. It was about making his own way, carving his own path, striving for more.
Be it the next job or the next woman.
His nostrils flared and his gut ached. The scent of sweet, decadent sex and ripe strawberries clung to him. His dick throbbed, willing and ready.
If he’d been of a mind to oblige.
But going back for more made a woman think that he might be really and truly interested in her rather than a few moments of pleasure. And when a woman started thinking, things got complicated.
No, if Boone had learned anything in all the years he’d been a vampire, it was when to hold back and keep his priorities straight.
The Quick and the Undead: Volume 1 (Tombstone, Texas) Page 8