by Rhea Regale
She smacked her palm flat to her chest. “Christ. I might not have a gun, Rylan, but you really shouldn’t be sneakin’ up on women with beer bottles.”
“One for one then?” He tried to make it light, but his voice dipped. Brianna’s gaze dropped to his chest, tracing over his naked torso until his skin burned.
Placing his crooked index finger beneath her chin, he lifted those eyes to his face. Slowly, he slid from his seat and crouched down behind the sofa, his face residing close to hers. He caressed the smooth skin beneath her chin with his knuckles, his attention focused on her parted lips as they awaited his.
Not so fast.
“Do you know what I’ve been thinkin’ about, Brianna?” Rylan asked in a soft, gravelly tone. He reached his free hand down and retrieved her bottle, placing it on the floor beside him. “You. Every way, you.”
Rylan dipped his head, his cheek brushing against the cool strand of her hair that rested against her face. He observed the quick nibble of her lower lip. That lip would be his to nibble and chew in the very near future.
“What I would do to you if I had you here with me night after night.” He snaked his free hand along her collarbone and teased the swells of her breasts with his pinkie finger. Beneath his hand, her heartbeat increased. He ran his thumb along her chin and nuzzled the tip of his nose along her cheek. When she turned her face into his, he quickly eased her back facing forward and tsked. “Be good, sweetheart. Don’t you want to hear my plan? No interruptin’.”
“Rylan,” she whispered. Hell on fire, the way she said his name felt like liquid heat long his cock. He closed his eyes, forcing the fierce throb to subside.
“This dress looks damn hot on you. Accentuates the slope of your breasts and highlights your nipples. Ah, yes, angel. I can see your nipples through the material.” He crept his hand from her collarbone down to the neckline of her dress. His eyelids grew heavy as desire pulsed throughout his being. He scraped his nails along the taut fabric. Brianna’s knees squeezed together. Her hand whipped up to his and guided him back to her breast.
“Touch me, Rylan, like you were goin’ to last night.”
Damn this woman, he wanted to squeeze the encased globe of flesh fitted against his palm. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He lowered her hand to the sofa. “Here, sweetheart. Don’t move.”
Stealing a minute to gather up his fleeting willpower, he folded his fingers along her chin and traced her throat with his knuckles.
“I’d start here,” he touched a small area under her ear, “and kiss every delicate tendon along your neck. I might tease your flesh to see if you whimper or tremble.” Rylan nipped her below the ear. Her breaths sieved between clenched teeth. The crease between her brows deepened. If he could smile at her reaction, he would, but he wanted to push her to the very edge of lust and control and follow at her heels.
“I’d work my way down to your breasts. Give your nipples a little twist, a playful pinch, and then suck each one until they were hard little buds.” He breathed against her ear. “I wonder how sensitive you’d be to my mouth fondlin’ your breasts. Would you like me to be gentle and lovin’, or rough and possessive? Could I make you come by toyin’ with those buds, or would I need to stimulate you other ways?”
Brianna moaned, arching her back. He licked the pad of his finger and, bringing his cheek alongside hers again, drew a slow line from the hollow of her neck down to her deep cleavage.
“I’ll bring your skin to life, sweetheart. Make you feel like you’ve never felt before.” He hooked his finger on her dress and gave it a teasing tug.
“Rylan, please.”
“Wonder what I’d do next?” Rylan turned his head slightly, enough to brush the corner of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. She was breaking apart, and he was enthralled watching every minute.
He traced the curve of each breast before moving lower where he teased the indentation of her belly button. She jerked. “Are you ticklish, sweetheart? If I licked my way down your stomach and nibbled around this little button here, would you squirm and laugh?”
“Probably a little,” she said in gasps. He followed her attempt to connect those lips to his, preventing a short-circuiting event. Taking hold of her chin again, he continued lower still. His pads absorbed the subtle disruption in the dress when he reached the hem of her panties. “My god, Rylan. I never imagined you to be so…sinful.”
“Sweetheart, you have no idea how sinful I can be.” The corner of his mouth curled as her fingers fisted against the sofa.
“Let’s continue, shall we? I’ve made my way from your neck to those lush breasts, then a little lower to your belly. Your scent would fill my lungs at this time, making my mouth water for a taste of you.” He slid his fingers a little lower, cresting her pubic bone then veering his hand to her thigh. A sharp breath shot out of her mouth. She wriggled against the sofa, her bottom lip tucked tightly between her teeth. Rylan lowered his eyes to the hem of her dress as his fingers curled around the fabric. The nylon stocking teased his hypersensitive pads. “But I wouldn’t want to give that to you so soon. Oh no, baby. You’d suffer a little more.”
“I’m sufferin’ now.”
“You’re warmin’ up now. You’ll suffer later,” Rylan reassured, slowly working the dress up her leg. She tried to lower her head, but he held her gaze away. This was for him to see and her to experience. Each inch along her leg built his own heightened anticipation. What would those legs look like this close? How would her skin feel against his hands?
His knuckles brushed against lace, followed by a small metal clip. The storm of arousal skyrocketed as the dress revealed her sexy stocking attached to a garter. “Well, well. Look what I’ve found.”
He splayed his hand along the small area of bare flesh between her stockings and panties. Her knees fell open, her head dropping back against the sofa.
Rylan gave her inner thigh a gentle squeeze, turning his face into hers. He teased her lips with his breaths, barely touching the corner of her mouth. He slipped a single finger beneath the lacy top of the stocking.
“Passion draws you in a beautiful light, Brianna. I can watch you like this for a long, long time.”
He wanted to kiss her then and give into the tug and pull she held over him, but somehow he restrained.
“Tell me, angel.” Rylan walked his fingers upward, pausing at the edge of her panties. Brianna was holding her breath, the crease in her brows prominent, teeth clenched. He leaned back enough to take her in entirely when he finally slid his fingers along her pussy. Beautiful. He stroked her once, twice, the answer to his question leaving a residue along his skin through the lace. “Are you wet?”
Rylan withdrew his hand and straightened up, his body simmering in liquid fire, his cock pulsing. Brianna squirmed on the sofa, her breaths unsteady, her breasts rising and falling. Her fingers were curled in the skirt of her dress, her knees squeezing together and falling apart as her hips undulated in a subtle rhythm. He could ride her at that rate, slow and steady, bringing her to a gentle climax.
If he held a sliver of control over this powerful beast called desire clawing at the surface of his being.
He had none of that control. Weeks of fighting his boiling desire for this woman, nine months of suffering with the pain of loss, he couldn’t take it anymore. The vision of the woman caught in a ruthless churn of pleasure feet away from him held him captivated. He did not want to—would not—let her go. Raw, potent, intoxicating hunger consumed him. It filled every ounce of his body, infiltrated every avenue of his mind, and left him with one dangerously erotic thought.
Angel, you’re all mine.
Chapter Nineteen
The shocking ebb and flow of electricity along her nerves could suffocate every sense she possessed. She creamed with each sexually charged suggestion Rylan whispered in her ear and against her skin. Her body resented his smooth instructions to keep her hands at her sides. He took verbal foreplay to a level that should be forbidden
, or come with a warning label.
Somehow, she found the strength to open her eyes when a floorboard creaked. She turned, expecting to meet Rylan’s face as he prepared to tease her a little more with that wicked tongue. Rylan wasn’t beside her. She twisted around and spotted him. In the entry foyer. Moving to the stairs.
Walking away?
“Oh no you don’t,” she choked, stumbling to her feet. She bumped into the arm of the sofa as she hurried to catch up to him, her legs weak, her pussy a buzzing cacophony, her mind damn near lost. “Don’t you dare walk away from me after that.”
He didn’t slow, didn’t pause, but continued his steady strides toward the stairs until she grabbed his arm.
“Ry—”
He whipped around, catching her chin with one hand, the back of her head with the other. She caught the glow of satisfaction in his eyes and the sensual curl of his lips right before he filled her with a kiss that pierced straight into her soul. She grabbed his shoulders, kissing him back, following each possessive sweep of his tongue until she became so lost in the raw passion that she clung on for the ride.
“Up,” he rasped, hands dropping to her hips. The skirt lifted until the rough palms of his hands cupped her ass. She snaked her arms around his neck, plunging a hand in his damp hair, and hopped up, wrapping her legs around his waist.
The hard bulge of his cock pressed against her lace panties. She rocked her pussy against his dick, whetting her appetite for what lay beneath the slippery fabric. He stumbled up the stairs, but his kiss deepened until all she could breathe and taste was Rylan. He was potent sexual desire, intoxicating to the point of sensual inebriation, leaving her lightheaded.
The support of his arms dropped from under her. Tightening her hold on him, she moaned when she felt his deft fingers making quick work of the hooks and zipper along the back of her dress. It loosened and slipped over her shoulders.
Rylan bunched up the dress to her waist, turned, and pinned her up against the wall. She gasped, the friction of his cock rubbing her clit sending tremors down her legs. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and licked her plump flesh, followed by a little tug.
“Off, Brianna.”
My god, your voice is sinful.
The deep, husky rasp of his charged voice raked through her nerves. She pressed her lips together, craving more of his kiss, more of him, all while trying to fight for each and every breath squeezing into her lungs. Rylan’s hands flattened against her sides, moving up along the outer swells of her breasts, pulling the dress with him. She lifted her arms, leaning forward enough to dislodge the caught fabric at her lower back. Rylan pulled the dress from her arms and tossed it aside. He cupped her breasts, keeping her pinned to the wall with his hips.
“You, Brianna, are a very dangerous woman,” he said quietly, running this thumbs along the lacy trim of her demi-bra. She had no strength to grin at his gravelly comment. She tightened her legs around his waist, taking another taste of pleasure with a slow rock against his cock that set his nostrils flaring and a low growl resonating deep in his chest. She reveled in the feel of his warm skin against her sensitive palms as she learned the hard, muscular contours of his arms, the plateau and valley of his chest, plucking his erect nipples as she went.
“And you, Rylan, are a drug to every one of my senses.”
He skated his hands along her arms. His eyes, so dark with only a hint of amber dancing around his pupils, held hers as he lifted her arms over her head and shackled her wrists to the wall with one strong hand. His fingers teased along the side of her face, feathering down the path of her jugular, lower to the strap of her bra. Her pussy creamed, her wild hunger shouldering for release. He hooked a finger in her bra, following the slope of the trim. His nail teased her nipple, sparks of pleasure erupting in her breast and spreading down to her pussy. She sucked in a breath, earning a soul-melting curl of his lips.
“I wanted these last night,” he said, flicking his finger back over her nipple. “I wanted all of you last night.”
“Take me, Rylan.” She dipped her head, reaching for his mouth. “I’m yours.”
He came closer, the tip of his nose brushing hers. The airy spread of his breath against her mouth, the heat of his lips so damn close, the persistent teasing of her nipple, made her dizzy. He was the stimulus she craved, but with each second that went by, she wondered if she could handle what he had to give. Her body was alive, tingling, burning from bone to skin. Her cunt pulsed, the slightest movement of his hips bringing a zing of raw pleasure to her core.
“Are you?” he whispered.
Her throat swelled. The fine electrical currents sparked between their lips. His nose slid against hers. The corner of his mouth barely touched her lips as he slanted his face enough to miss connecting with her mouth.
“Tell me you want me, and I’m yours.”
His cheek slid along hers, his unshaven jaw igniting a fierce wave of sensation as he drew closer to her ear. She curled her fingers, the need to touch him singeing her appendages. His lips pressed a light kiss just below her ear.
“Rylan, this is torture,” she whimpered, tilting her head and exposing her neck to his skilled mouth.
“You’ve no idea what torture is, sweetheart.” Another kiss, followed by a lazy sweep of his tongue. She gasped, goose bumps spreading down her arms. “A lesson I’ll teach you tonight.”
“Please, my body’s achin’. I need you.” She pumped her hips against his cock, seeking the pressure, the release from the burn building up to an outstanding proportion in her pussy. His hand fell from her bra, dropping to her undulating hips, and forced her still. He kissed her neck again, playing her flesh with a sensual nip.
“Tell me what you want. Your heart’s deepest desires.”
“I want everythin’, Rylan.” His thumb pressed against her clit. More. She licked her lips, sitting into his touch. “I want the happiness and love that I’ve seen in Summer. I want the heat and passion I’ve seen with Mandy. I want, oh god.” His thumb circled her clit through the wet lace, teasing her straight to that sweet precipice he refused to let her fall over. He lifted his head from her neck, eyes so dark, so feral. His heady gaze slowly shattered her mind. “The security and—mmm, ohhh—adoration I’ve seen with Lexi. Fuck, Rylan.”
The devil of a man took his thumb away from her clit as she was about to crest. She gasped for air. Her ankles unhooked from his waist, her legs too weak to continue to hold her without his support. She lowered her feet to the floor, suffering through the unrelenting throb in her pussy that resonated all over her.
Rylan released her hands, linked his arm around her back, and pulled her flush to him. A soft moan fled her, the feel of his skin against hers alluring.
When he backed her toward the nearest door, she stumbled, trying desperately not to step on his bare feet with her stilettos. Years of dancing lessons went out the window, taking her grace with it. This sexual prelude was a dance she knew little about, but she yearned to learn every step.
“Tell me yours,” Brianna said. “Your heart’s desire.”
She didn’t dare look away from him as he led her into the room until the backs of her legs hit a mattress. He sat her down.
“Learn to live again,” he said, easing her onto her back. “Startin’ here, with you.”
He lifted her leg and rested her heeled foot against his stomach to unfasten the straps of her shoes. It fell to the floor with a dull thump. His eyes lifted from her foot, traveling the length of her leg to her lace-covered cunt, hesitated long enough to make her shiver, and continued along her belly until he reached her face.
“You look so damn sexy like this. Not sure I want to take it off.” Rylan supported her calf, her foot resting in the crook of his elbow. He reached for the garter clip on the front of her thigh. “Next time.”
He released the first clip, then the second. Brianna arched, molding the sole of her foot over his flexed biceps, her toes tracing the jagged lines of his tattoo a
s he rolled her stocking down her leg.
“Ahh, so I’ll be wearing stockin’s and garters daily from now on?” Brianna asked. Rylan slipped the nylon over her heel and plucked the stocking off her foot. He held it to his side and let it fall to the floor, the heat in his gaze unbearably arousing.
He cocked his head, curled his fingers to his palm, and drew the backs of his nails from her ankle to midthigh. “You wear them, I’ll be takin’ them off.” Tingles played along her skin, the nylon having made her hypersensitive to his light touch.
Damn the man, that cocky half grin proved he knew it, too.
“That feels so nice,” she cooed, stretching her arms up over her head. His hand dipped, sliding along her pussy. She jerked, her lips falling apart. “Holy hell.”
“I told you what I was goin’ to do to you.” Rylan unclipped the two garters on her remaining stocking and took his sweet time peeling the nylon down her leg. Brianna slid her bare foot up his thigh, bridging the narrow space to his cock. His hands paused, that searing gaze shooting up to hers. She rubbed her foot up and down his erection, a hint of satisfaction displayed in her vague grin. “Foot down, Miss Cabot.”
Brianna brushed her fingers over her breast. “Or what, Sheriff?”
He opened her shoe and knocked it off then gave the nylon a sharp tug and tossed it aside. “Wrong question.”
Rylan spread her thighs with the flats of his palms. His thumb hooked over her thong and pulled the wet fabric aside.
The moment of lighthearted taunts vanished. Brianna sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.
The first skin-to-skin touch of his knuckle against her pussy stole her breath. Rylan unfurled his finger and traced her opening then slowly pressed into her tight cunt.
“My god, woman. You are wet.”
Brianna breathed out a sigh. “You’ve made me wet. Do somethin’ about it, Rylan.”
Rylan lashed his thumb over her clit. She bowed, clenching the comforter in both hands. “You don’t want me to make you come with my fingers, do you?”