Devoted to Pleasure

by Shayla Black

  That whisper resonated under her skin. Her nipples tightened. She let out a shaky exhalation. “Don’t you dare.”

  Shealyn sensed more than saw him smile behind her as he curled his arms more tightly around her, his palms over her abdomen . . . before they shifted up her body to cradle the weight of her breasts in his hands.

  If he had any doubts before about how much he aroused her, he couldn’t possibly after the breathy groan she let loose. He followed that by swiping his thumbs across her stiff nipples.

  Suddenly, she resented her blouse and bra. She wanted his palms on her bare skin, his warmth seeping into her flesh as he sank deep inside her. “Touch me.”

  He lifted his hands from her breasts. “I was. Would you rather have my hands on you somewhere else? How about here?” He cupped her hip. “Or here?” He skated his fingertip down the front of her throat, into the well between her collarbones.

  Her whole body shuddered. Her arousal swelled. Everywhere he touched her she sweltered. Yearning thickened. She ached for more, for everything he could give her. She needed him now.

  With shaking fingers, Shealyn reached for the buttons of her blouse, unfastening them one at a time. When the silk gaped open, she gripped the underwire of her bra to lift the cups and expose her nipples for his touch. Instead, he curled his fingers around her wrists.

  “Let’s not do this out in the open, where anyone with an expensive camera lens could snapshot you,” he warned in a husky whisper. “How about if you go inside and take off your bra and panties. Leave them in your bedroom. By the time you’ve made a salad and set the table, I’ll be bringing in the steaks.”

  Caution would be wise in this situation. Cutter was right. Anyone with a camera could get a lensful. But nothing about being this close to him made her feel cautious.

  “Why would I take off my undergarments before dinner?”

  He gave her a sly smile. “Because I want to see if I can manage a whole meal while knowing what I really want in my mouth is mere feet away, bare and ready for me. And if I can’t wait . . .” He shrugged. “Well, it won’t take much effort to peel off your blouse, rip away that swishy skirt, and eat that sweet pussy instead.”

  Shealyn’s breath caught in her throat as she swiveled her head to glance at him over her shoulder. Yes, she’d heard him right. His burning eyes told her he’d meant every word, too.

  Desire detonated like a bomb in her stomach. Her body caught fire.

  “Oh.”

  He chuckled as he reached around her and refastened the top button of her blouse. “Go on inside. I’ll be back in fifteen.”

  She could do exactly what he’d asked. She could slip into her bedroom, remove everything except her sheer blouse and the little skirt that flirted with her thighs. But easy compliance had never been her style. If it had, she’d still be living in Comfort, probably teaching school or being the wife of a neighboring rancher. Her motto had always been, why be a sheep when you can be the shepherd?

  Suddenly feeling way less hungry for food and far more ravenous for Cutter, Shealyn swayed over to the barbecue, hips rocking slowly as she shut off the propane. “The steaks can wait. I don’t think I can.”

  A predatory smile spread across his face. Dangerous. “We may not be coming up for food—or air—all evening, because I’ve devoted hours to thinking of all the ways I want to pleasure you.”

  Her mind emptied of everything except Cutter. She couldn’t speak with words, but her body screamed, throbbing hot and needy. The knot pulsing between her legs demanded his touch.

  What exactly had he fantasized about? She ached to know, to feel every dirty, forbidden thought making him so hard. But she wanted to wow him, too. Satisfy him. She wanted Cutter to remember her after . . .

  Shealyn cut off that thought. She wasn’t going to think about the day he left California—and her—behind. No, she intended to make this the most amazing night of his life. To leave her mark. Granted, she didn’t have much experience, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying to be the woman against whom he measured all others and found them lacking.

  With an answering grin, she sauntered toward him, biting her lip, skating her fingertips across the soft skin just above her cleavage. “That works both ways. If there’s any chance you’ll give out before we stop to fix dinner, I suggest grabbing a snack now. I’m not planning on letting you out of bed anytime soon.”

  “Questioning my stamina?” His grin widened as he strolled closer with a confidence that left her breathless.

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just making sure you’re prepared for how long this night could be.”

  Cutter sidled up to her, invading far into her personal space, and dragged his hand up her thigh . . . then under her skirt. “If your words were a song, sweetheart, it would be my favorite. I’d like it even better if one of the choruses was about you losing these.” He tugged on the edge of her panties. “And if the bridge described you stripping off every other stitch . . . Yeah. I’d play that song over and over.”

  She sucked in a swift breath and trailed a finger down his chest. The solid muscle under her touch, the sheer masculine hardness of his form, made her tremble. She’d had so little opportunity to touch him until now. Tonight, she intended to put her hands all over him until she knew every inch of his body.

  “You first,” she whispered as she reached for the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up high enough to reveal the washboard abs she’d drooled over during their run.

  Cutter didn’t simply have a six-pack. There were so many ridges, she couldn’t count them at a glance. He even had those notches above his hips and the kind of steely pecs and meaty shoulders that drove her insane.

  She’d never been this intimate with a man who made her lose all train of thought the moment he whipped off his shirt. She couldn’t wait for him to lose the rest of his clothes.

  With a grin, he reached behind him and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, yanking it off his body in one motion. Then he looped it around her neck and tugged on the ends to drag her even closer. “You think you’re going to run the show, sweetheart?”

  Shealyn got the distinct impression he would humor her . . . for a while. Then he would insist on being in charge. She considered herself a feminist, was all about equal rights for equal pay, and thoroughly believed that women were every bit as smart as men, maybe more. But sometimes, a female wanted to feel like a desirable woman. For Shealyn, that meant a man strong enough to challenge her. Take her.

  Yeah, she knew her fantasies well. She had some favorites that helped things along with her battery-operated boyfriend.

  Cutter was surpassing them all.

  “I’m not trying to run the show, simply hurrying it along.” She slanted him a teasing stare through her lashes, along with a flirty smile. “Unless you’re dragging your feet for some reason? Maybe you’re not all that interested and I should find someone else . . .”

  She turned her back to him and sashayed toward the French doors again. Before she reached the threshold, Cutter wrapped his implacable arm around her middle and hauled her against his hard chest, his lips skimming the shell of her ear.

  “You’re provoking me.” His rough breath caressed her neck as his palm eased so slowly toward her aching sex. “Aren’t you at all worried I’ll make you regret it?”

  “No.” She tried to keep the pleading whimper out of her voice. “After all, it’s working.”

  He laughed long and low. It wasn’t a sound of mirth. “It is. But can you handle what happens next?”

  God, she hoped so. Before she could pretend that her heart wasn’t pounding madly and her head wasn’t positively dizzy with arousal, Cutter bent behind her to take her in his arms and lift her against his chest.

  With a stunned gasp, she curled herself against him and looped her arms around his neck. “I could have walked.”

  “So you cou
ld tease me more with the sway of that pretty ass? I’m on to you.” He stepped into the kitchen and somehow managed to twist so he caught the door handle with his elbow to close it behind him. “I want you naked and screaming for me now.” He turned to face the patio again. “Lock the door. I don’t want you to worry about your safety. I want you focused solely on us when I fuck you.”

  Oh, god.

  With trembling fingers, Shealyn latched the door. When she’d first begun to poke and bait Cutter, it had been an instinct. And it had been so heady to feel as sexy as the singer she played on TV. But her bodyguard was a man of few words. He wouldn’t waste his breath on a single one if he wasn’t absolutely serious.

  Cutter put one confident foot in front of the other and headed straight for her bedroom. She all but climbed his body to lay her lips over his. He kissed with his whole mouth, rough and demanding, but somehow tender. Somehow perfect.

  As soon as they reached her room, Cutter dropped the arm holding her feet and legs. She slid down his body, every inch of her rubbing against every inch of him—especially the hard ones.

  She could barely breathe through her lust as she finally stood against him, alone with him, free to touch him.

  Shealyn flattened her palms against his chest, and the jolt of need that went through her made her tremble. Denying her need to brush her fingertips up his pecs and around the massive bulges of his shoulders was impossible, so she didn’t even try.

  He took her touch in silence, allowing her to explore however she wanted. In return, his eyes demanded that she hold his dark stare. That gaze sizzled her, sliced her composure to ribbons, and pried open her head to expose every bad-girl thought she’d kept hidden under her good-girl facade.

  Her fingers curled behind his shoulders, nails digging in, envisioning the moment he’d sink inside her. Another hot wash of desire had her head falling back with a soft moan.

  That’s when Cutter pounced, hauling her against his body and carting her to the bed. He tossed her on the mattress, wedged his torso between her legs, and reached under her skirt to yank her panties down.

  In one fluid moment, he tossed them away and held her knees apart with his strong hands, his hungry gaze dropping to her sex.

  She panted, trembled. “Cutter?”

  “Why the hell didn’t I turn on the damn lights in here so I could see every part of what’s mine?”

  His answer stole what little breath she could find. “If I tell you where to find the switch, will you get naked?”

  He gave her another low chuckle. “I know how to turn on the light. And if I get naked now, I’ll be inside you in the next ten seconds.”

  “Would that really be such a bad thing?”

  CHAPTER 10

  No, being inside Shealyn in the next ten seconds wouldn’t be a bad thing at all, in Cutter’s estimation. He already knew it would both decimate his restraint and blow his mind. That’s also why he refused to rush this.

  “I’m going to savor you,” he told her. “I’m going to learn your body. I’m going to spend all night wringing one orgasm after another from you until you’re limp and wearing the sort of smile tomorrow that makes everyone wonder what you’ve been doing.”

  Her frozen, blinking expression told Cutter that he’d shocked her once more . . . but she liked his idea. And unlike that fucker in the video, he would make damn sure he thoroughly satisfied Shealyn. What they had couldn’t last, but he wouldn’t give her any reason to regret what they’d shared.

  “Please . . .” she breathed.

  Her whimper torqued him up, spurred him on.

  Cutter sidled up her body and wrangled her out of her blouse, then reached behind her to pinch her bra open before he tossed both to the floor. She lay across her bed, her blond hair an angelic cloud, but as he dragged a hand down her side, pausing to cup her breast and run a thumb over the taut bead, her expression suggested her thoughts were purely devilish.

  “You sure you want this?” he taunted.

  He hoped like hell she said yes. She didn’t give herself often or easily. If Shealyn didn’t spread herself open for him now, he didn’t know how he’d make it. He’d definitely question everything he felt brimming between them. Yes, giving in to emotion was dangerous and he might wish like hell he hadn’t later. His life was already complicated enough. But their time together was limited, and he’d be damned if he got on a plane to Louisiana still wondering what it felt like to make love to Shealyn West.

  She slid her gentle hand over his face and anchored her palm on his jaw, tangling her gaze with his. “Stop asking me. I’m sure.”

  Cutter covered her body with his and filtered his fingers through the silken skeins of her hair, drilling into her stare. God, she was so beautiful, it hurt.

  Slowly, he lowered his head. He needed to taste her, take her, somehow imprint himself on her. Irrational, yes, especially when he knew damn well they had no tomorrows. But he’d never felt such an urge and he didn’t know how to resist it. She was special to him and he wanted her to believe that.

  Suddenly, she wedged her palms between them, gripping his shoulders to stay him before he could lose himself in the sweet bliss of her mouth. “I wanted you the minute I saw you.”

  The unexpected admission blistered his self-control. Right now, she wasn’t a famous starlet. He wasn’t merely an expendable bodyguard. She was a woman; he was a man. And they were going to share passion, equally, wholly, and thoroughly.

  “Likewise.” Cutter heard the huskiness of his voice. “When we first met on Sunday night, the instant lust hit me like a bolt. You weren’t trying to entice me, but I was damn well tempted anyway. When you invited me to the living room to talk, I had to stare out the window and pretend fascination with the city view. Otherwise . . . I worried I’d give in to my urge to seduce you.”

  Under him, she smiled. “You were being professional. And you thought I was in love with Tower.”

  “That chapped me, but I don’t want to discuss him—or anything else—tonight.”

  “Sorry. I’m nervous because I’m pretty sure once we’re together, you’re going to scramble my brain horribly.” Her grin faded, replaced by stark honesty. “Because I’m afraid that, after you, I’ll never be the same again.”

  Cutter froze. Would he love to spoil her for every other man? His ego liked that a lot. His inner caveman couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else ever touching her.

  He shoved the thought aside. If Brea said yes to his proposal to take care of her, he’d be married soon. What he and Shealyn shared was a white-hot, inexplicable pull. If he was lucky, it would burn out after they tangled the sheets.

  But he wasn’t holding his breath. And he was too far gone right now to care.

  “I’ve had the same concerns,” he admitted.

  “Really?” Surprise softened her face. “What do we do?”

  Cutter let his hand drift down her body, fingertips skimming her shoulder, her ribs, the indentation of her waist, and the swell of her hip. Then he settled his palm under her ass with a groan of pleasure. “We get lost in each other and worry about the rest later. Whatever’s going to happen is going to happen.”

  “You’re right,” she breathed against his lips.

  Wrenching himself away from her, he fumbled on the nightstand for the remote to close her bedroom blinds, in case the creeper peeping into her bedroom windows came back. The last thing he needed was to give someone another reason to blackmail Shealyn. Then he pulled a condom from his pants, shucked them, set the foil package on the nightstand, and turned on the light.

  With the golden glow illuminating the room, Cutter drank in the sight of her, clad in nothing but her skirt bunched around her waist and a pair of wedged sandals that made her legs look a mile long. His gaze lingered over her sweet rosy nipples, then latched onto the tender folds of her pussy. A dusting of light brown curls was
the only shield between Cutter and what he really wanted—and that was no barrier at all. She looked swollen and succulent. Wet.

  Anticipation clawed its way through him, insistent, impatient, snarling, and greedy.

  Jesus, what was happening between them? He’d never had trouble controlling his desire. One glance at Shealyn ripped his restraint to shreds.

  He braced his knee on the bed and hovered over her. When he followed the line of her gaze, he realized she stared at his cock, visually fixated and unblinking.

  A little whirl of both pride and amusement curled through him. “Sweetheart?”

  She jerked her attention to his face, and he tried not to laugh.

  A little flush crawled up her cheeks. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m staring at you, too. I enjoy looking at you. I love planning where I’m going to touch you next and how I’m going to unravel you.”

  “When I look at you, I can’t think at all. You’re . . . beautiful.”

  “Not hardly,” he scoffed. “When I’m not desperate to be inside you, I’ll show you my collection of scars from the war. But right now . . .”

  “Kiss me. When you do, everything else falls away for me and there’s only you.”

  Shealyn needed that. Cutter could hear it in her voice. It humbled him. He wanted to be the man she turned to for protection, comfort, and, yes, satisfaction.

  Any thought he had of saving himself from what he felt sure would be her lasting spell and his eventual heartbreak evaporated.

  “Whatever you want, sweetheart, I’ll give it to you. And everything else to make you feel so good.”

  Wearing a Mona Lisa smile, she curled her arms around him and closed her eyes. Cutter palmed her neck and dropped his mouth to hers. He didn’t pause or brush or hesitate, just nudged her lips apart with his and dove inside.

  Kissing her was so intimate. Her taste wasn’t like any other woman’s. She had this way of clinging to him while remaining the tiniest bit aloof. It drove him mad. It made him want to conquer her completely.