“Pretty please?” She said it again, her lips curling into a smile. “I’m asking nicely.”
“Do you want to be fucked nicely?” he asked, his voice tight. “Or do you want to be fucked hard?”
His words conjured all sorts of images, every one of them dirty and wonderful. She’d never had a man ask her if she wanted to be fucked hard before. Usually, it just . . . happened. There was no dirty talk. No wicked words whispered in her ear. She’d had no idea just hearing Lane say the word fuck would have such an effect on her.
His blunt words made her weak. Made her wet. Made her hot—all at once.
“Well? Tell me what you want, Dee.” He touched her face with his fingertips, his hand curving around her cheek, tilting her head up so their gazes locked. “This is why I don’t think I’m the man for you.”
She frowned, confused by his words. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you deserve romance and flowers and quiet dinner dates and heart-shaped candy. All I can offer you are a few stolen nights here and there and hard, dirty fucks. That’s all I can give, Dee. I’m not a romantic man, never have been. I don’t believe in hearts and flowers and love and poems and all that other bullshit. I like sex. I can’t deny that I want to have sex with you. But it won’t amount to much more than that.” A flicker of unease appeared in his eyes when he finished his speech. One moment it was there, the next moment gone.
Delilah released a shuddering breath, opening her mouth to answer as he cut her off.
“I’m a possessive man too, so if we’re going to do this, you can’t be fucking around with someone else. If you start liking some other guy, tell me and we’ll end it.” There was that uneasy flicker in his eyes again. Like he didn’t enjoy admitting that last part.
But she loved that admission. A shiver moved down her spine at his choice of words. What would it mean to be so completely possessed by Lane that he wouldn’t dare let another man touch what he claimed as his? Oh, she liked the thought of belonging to Lane. Probably a little too much.
“I would never go after some other guy while I’m . . . involved with you.” She didn’t finish what she wanted to say. How there had never really been any other man but Lane. How she couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else once she had him. That she’d wished for this moment for so long, she could hardly believe it was happening.
If anything was ever going to actually, you know, happen. What else could she do to make Lane see just how good they could be together?
She reached for him, her fingers grazing the front of his shorts, the length of his erection, and he jerked away from her touch as if she’d burned him.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned, and she began to laugh.
“How much more obvious can I be, Lane? I’m on my knees in front of you, completely naked, and I just begged you to fuck me. What more do you want from me?”
He didn’t answer. At least not with words. Instead he leaned down and scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing, holding her close for a moment, like he didn’t want to let her go.
And then she was falling, falling. A little shriek escaped her as she bounced on the mattress, her hands pressed against the cool cotton comforter to brace herself. “Lane, what are you . . . ” Her voice dwindled to nothing when Lane ripped off his T-shirt and shoved off his shorts, revealing his very thick, very erect cock.
Oh. Wow.
They were naked together and they’d hardly kissed.
Licking her lips, she backed up on the giant bed until she was lying against the pillows, her eyes going wide when he came toward her, his hungry gaze zeroed in on her and nothing else.
“I’d be an idiot to push you away now,” he murmured as he crawled right over her, his arms and legs caging her in, his face in hers. “I think we’ve both known this was going to happen eventually.”
She nodded, her throat dry as sand.
“You’re so damn beautiful.” He nuzzled the side of her face with his nose and her eyes fell shut, savoring his words, the way he touched her. “You want this, don’t you, Delilah?”
“Oh my God, stop talking.” She grabbed hold of his face, her palms flat against his cheeks as she pulled him to her, their mouths brushing. “Kiss me, Lane. Touch me. Please.”
He smiled. “You’re begging again.”
Desperate measures and all that. “Isn’t that what you wanted? I’ll beg some more if it will make you stop talking and start doing.” She started to kiss him but he broke away from her, his breath already coming fast.
“Once I start, I’m afraid I might not stop,” he said.
“Perfect,” she said just before she forced his lips back to hers.
Lane didn’t pull away. He didn’t stop kissing her either. Instead his mouth became urgent. Insistent. She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him on top of her, but he braced his elbows on the bed, keeping his weight off her.
She wanted to feel him though. Wanted his hard, heavy body to press her into the mattress. Wanted to feel his cock against her belly, wanted to swallow his groans and touch him in a way that made him go wild. She wanted it all.
“Jesus, Dee,” he muttered when she curled her fingers around his length and gripped him tight. “I’m gonna come all over your hand if you don’t watch it.”
Sparks of arousal lit just beneath her skin. He spoke like a man who was hanging on to his control by a thread. Did she do that to him? Was his reaction all because of her?
“I’ll give you a hand job,” she said as she gave him a firm stroke. He shuddered against her, his breath hot in her ear. He was like hard, hot velvet in her hand, and she didn’t want to ever stop touching him.
He choked out a laugh at her offer. “And make all your teenage fantasies come true?”
“Are you accusing me of having teenage fantasies about you?” She rubbed her thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the moisture everywhere, and he moaned low in his throat.
“I had fantasies about you when you were a teen,” he admitted, his mouth on hers, stealing her gasp of surprise.
She nudged at his shoulder with her free hand, halting their kiss. “Are you serious?” Never had she thought Lane lusted after her back then. When she’d been dating his brother and she and West had thought Lane was a jerk.
Well, she hadn’t thought he was that big of a jerk. More like a hot jerk. A sexy jerk. A jerk she couldn’t stop thinking about even while she was dating his brother. Talk about feeling guilty . . .
“Dead serious. Felt like shit for it too.”
He hung his head, his warm breath wafting across her chest, making her nipples harder. She really wanted to feel his mouth on her nipples. They were extra sensitive, and she figured she’d go up in flames upon first touch of his lips.
“I’d catch you kissing my stupid brother and wish it was me you were kissing.”
Oh, that was hot. Seriously, unbelievably hot. He’d liked her back then, which meant he’d liked her for years. They’d wasted all this time. He’d come at her only moments ago like some big dominant out to Christian Grey the shit out of her and now he was being sweet and admitting his teen crush.
On her.
“Really?”
“Really.” He looked up at her, grimacing. “I should’ve never admitted that.”
“I love that you admitted it.” She pressed her lips together to keep from saying what she really wanted to say. That she was more than halfway in love with him already. They might’ve only just started fooling around, but she’d known him for so long, yearned for him for years. He was her friend. She trusted him. Liked him—even if he drove her insane half the time. Why was it so ridiculous to consider that she was in love with him?
Oh God, she was in love with him. Talk about scary. This man didn’t do commitment. She was wasting her time falling in love with a man like Lane.
But it was too late. She was in it for the long haul.
Fighting her fears, she raised her head a
nd kissed Lane, her fingers still wrapped around his erection, her other hand resting on the back of his head. He returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, his tongue thrusting against hers, driving her out of her mind. If he kissed as well as he fucked, she was in deep trouble.
Again, too late.
She was already in deep trouble.
Chapter Eight
LANE HAD HER right where he wanted her. Naked and writhing beneath him, her fingers wrapped tight around his dick as they slid up and down in determined strokes. She wanted to get him off. Hell, she’d offered up a hand job—something it seemed no female wanted to do, not anymore. They were too old for that shit.
Or so he’d thought. He found it pretty damn exciting having her touch him like this. Kiss him like this. He didn’t want to crush her, so he kept his body lifted away from hers, but it was becoming harder and harder. His muscles shook. His entire body trembled from the way she touched him, and he knew if he let go he’d blow his wad in minutes if not seconds.
And he wanted this to last, damn it.
“Come here,” he told her once he pulled his mouth from hers, needing to catch his breath. She reached for him again, like she couldn’t help herself, and he rolled them both over so they were on their sides, facing each other. Her hand fell away from his cock, which was probably for the best, but her eyes glowed and her skin was flushed a warm, rosy hue that made his mouth water for the taste of her. “We need to slow down.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to come inside you, not all over your fingers,” he said bluntly.
She lifted her brows, a laugh falling from her lips. “You’re crude.”
“This is nothing.” And it wasn’t. He could say worse. Do worse. But for some reason, he didn’t want to unleash all of that on Delilah anymore. She was too pretty, too special, too close to his heart—
Lane frowned. Wait a minute. He didn’t have a heart, was fairly certain that thing had shriveled up and died a long time ago. But there it was, pounding away in his chest, creating its own rhythm that sounded suspiciously like this woman’s name.
De-li-lah. De-li-lah. De-li-lah.
He rubbed at his chest to ease the ache.
“You like to talk dirty?” When he didn’t answer right away, she laughed again. “I’ve never really done it before but with you, I’m willing to give it a try.”
“No one’s ever said nasty things to you before, Dee?” He was shocked. He could make up a dirty poem about her legs alone, right on the spot.
She shook her head, reaching out to drift her fingers across his cheek, along his lips. He kissed the tips, and she jerked her hand away with a soft giggle. “I’ve never even had a guy tell me he wanted to fuck me before.”
Jealousy reared its ugly green-eyed head, and he pushed it away. He had no business being jealous over some schlumps she’d messed around with in her past. Who was he to judge? To worry? To want to rip their heads off and shove them down the toilet right before he flushed them away for good?
Yeah. What the fuck was wrong with him?
“Well, I want to do more than fuck you.” He needed to shock her. Forget this worrying about her heart along with his. Hearts had no place in what they were about to indulge in tonight. He ran his palm along the gentle curve of her waist, noting the shiver that moved through her at his touch. “I want to kiss every inch of your skin.”
Huh. He meant for that to sound . . . dirtier.
Her eyes glowed in the semidarkness. “I like the sound of that.”
He smiled. “And then I want to nibble on the inside of your thighs.”
“Mmm.” She leaned toward him, a sigh escaping her when he stroked his thumb over her naked hipbone.
“I bet you’d like that, huh? Tease you a little bit, get you nice and wet.” She said nothing in response, and he continued to caress her baby-soft skin. Her belly was smooth and flat, and he slid his hand down, his fingertips grazing her pubic hair. He could feel the heat emanating from between her legs, and his fingers itched to touch her there. Test just how wet she might already be. “I’m dying to taste you, Dee. You want me to go down on you?”
He met her gaze, saw the hesitation on her face. Why? Pretty much every woman he’d ever been with enjoyed his oral skills. Hell, most of the time he believed oral sex was severely underrated.
“I-I don’t know,” she murmured. “I don’t really like it when . . . ”
“A guy eats your pussy?” He said it to shock her, and it worked. Her eyes went big and round and her mouth popped open. Suddenly, the image of him shoving his cock between those perfect lips and demanding she suck him off floated through his brain.
Bet she’d be real good at it too.
“Yeah. That.” She nodded, clearly uncomfortable. “I never, um, get off that way.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m serious!” She made a cute little squirmy motion. “I get uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable how?” He was genuinely curious. Obviously she’d been with the wrong men.
“This is embarrassing,” she muttered, shaking her head. He drew her into his arms, holding her close, her face pressed against his chest. He slid one hand down the length of her back, until he was cupping one perfect ass cheek, and he held her like that. Savoring the feeling of her in his arms, naked and warm. His cock demanded more but he wanted to be patient with her. She deserved that.
Again, a contradiction to how he usually felt when it came to women and sex, but Delilah was proving yet again to be the exception to his normally firm rules.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he told her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Tell me.”
“Fine.” She blew out a harsh breath. “I’m always afraid I might, I don’t know, take too long to come? Maybe it smells down there? Maybe it doesn’t taste good? Maybe I’m too wet or making weird noises or . . . crap. I’ve never said this to anyone before.” She tried to jerk out of his hold, but he banded his arms around her, keeping her pinned to him. “Forget I admitted any of this.”
“No way. I can’t. I’m going to show you just how amazing you really are.” He released his hold on her and pushed her back so she was lying on the bed, those big brown eyes blinking up at him. “Relax, baby.” He ran his fingers across her collarbone, then down, along the tops of her breasts, teasing her nipples. “Let me show you how good this can be.” Between us, he almost added. But he didn’t.
She nodded and remained quiet, which was very un-Delilah-like. Not that he was complaining.
Her compliancy, he had to admit, was a total turn-on.
He kissed her neck, her chest, her small breasts. Drew his tongue in tight circles around one nipple, then the other, before pulling the first one into his mouth and giving it a deep suck. She cupped the back of his head, holding him to her as he continued to suck and lick her nipples, her fingers tight in his hair and making him wince. But he didn’t mind. Her moans and the way she shifted beneath him indicated that she loved the attention he was lavishing on her perfect, peach-colored nipples.
Slipping away from her hands, he shifted lower, brushing his mouth across her quivering stomach, licking a circle around her navel. Her scent grew stronger and he knew without a doubt her pussy was wet.
He couldn’t wait to taste her.
Slowly he moved down the length of her body, teasing her. Kissing a path along the outside of her thighs, her knees, her calves, making her moan in frustration. Then moving back up, pushing her legs apart, he kissed the inside of her soft thighs, nibbling the skin there, her fingers impatient as she tried to guide him to where she really wanted him.
“Be patient,” he urged. A frustrated growl sounded low in her throat, making him chuckle.
“I’m actually enjoying this,” she said, flopping back against the pillows and closing her eyes. “Don’t ruin it for me.”
As if he could. Right now, this moment was all about her. He wanted her focused on her pleasure, not worrying about those other silly li
ttle things that had distracted her in the past. He took his time kissing her slender inner thighs, making himself crazy with want every time he cast a glance at her pretty pink, glistening center. He enjoyed the way she squirmed as she arched closer to his mouth.
For a woman who said she wasn’t comfortable with this sort of thing, she seemed pretty damn comfortable with him. And he liked that, because it meant that the other guys weren’t doing it for her.
But he was.
“You smell so damn good,” he murmured as he readjusted himself so he was once more face-to-pussy. She slung her arm over her eyes, seemingly embarrassed, but he continued on. “You’re wet, Dee.”
“Lane . . . ” Her voice was a warning he ignored.
“I can’t wait to taste you.” He dropped a kiss just above her pubic hair, then moved lower, his tongue darting out to lick at her swollen clit just once. Just to reassure her he knew exactly where it was. “Fuck, just as good as I thought you’d be.”
She jolted against him when he licked her, and he did it again, and again, circling his tongue around her clit, sucking it between his lips, sliding a finger deep inside her. Delilah groaned so loud it surprised him, and he knew he could make her come like this. It would be so damn easy . . .
A ringtone ripped through the room, startling them both. Followed by another. And another. It was his motherfucking phone.
Worst. Timing. Ever.
Trying to ignore the incessant ringing, he concentrated on bringing Delilah to the brink of orgasm, adding another finger as he started to slip them in and out of her welcoming body. She worked with him, moving her arm away from her eyes so she could watch him. Their gazes held as she set her body to its own rhythm, her hips rising, soft sighs filling the air around them, the ringing long gone.
Until it started up again seconds later, the sound loud and shrill.
Jesus Christ.
Her hips fell, and she released a shuddering breath. “You should go answer it,” she whispered.
“Fuck that,” he said, his voice muffled against her flesh. But she was right. He should at least check who it was. What if it was his mom or Wren or work?
Smolder: The Wildwood Series Page 8