by Desiree Holt
One minute she glimpsed his startled face. The next she was pressing her mouth to his and wishing he would open it so she could drown herself inside.
Chapter Two
Taylor felt shock ripple through him and she clutched harder at the fabric of his jacket to keep him from pulling back. She wanted this man in ways she’d never wanted anyone else. Ways that startled her as her body reacted in an unfamiliar manner. She almost pulled back, frightened at the explosion of desire streaking through her but determination overrode trepidation. For all the things she’d lost and the ones she’d never had, she deserved this. She pressed her tongue hard against his mouth and whether from shock or desire he opened and she tasted him. Whiskey and coffee and mint combined to produce a heady flavor that tantalized her sense of taste. She sucked at his tongue, drawing him into her mouth in a kiss more sensuous than she’d ever permitted herself. Or ever wanted.
His hand gripped her upper arms tightly as if to push her away but she had a death grip on his lapels. She was so damned tired of being strait laced and obedient. The past week had stripped away all the steel bands restricting her life, with today finishing the job. All that obedience had been for nothing. Now she wanted wild, a night that would help her blot out all the dark feelings rampaging through her.
With a groan the man pulled her closer. His own tongue responded to hers, sweeping into her mouth, leaving no inch of the dark wetness untouched. The slight roughness of it scraped across the sensitive tissues, calling each hidden nerve into play. His lips fused to hers, pressing down on them, devouring them, as his fingers dug into her shoulders.
They stood suspended in the darkness, sensations from the kiss rocketing through her body and drawing forth reactions from parts of her body long dormant. Her nipples began to tingle and she felt wetness seeping between her thighs. She would give anything to stay this way forever, balanced on a precipice.
He was the first to break away, looking down at her with glittering eyes. “I think you’ve had far too much to drink.”
Taylor was trying to find her breath but all the air seemed to have been sucked out of her lungs. The pulse that beat between her legs was echoing through her core. She knew about “getting hot” and “getting wet” but this was the first time a man had made her feel it. The drinks had nothing to do with what was happening to her. It was the man, a powerful jungle animal who called to the hidden wildness within her.
“This is my idea, not the whiskey.” She pulled in another breath and tried to drag his face down to hers again.
He tightened his hands on her shoulders, a strangled sound erupting from his throat. “I’m a stranger. You can’t just pick me up and take me to your room like this. Don’t you know things like that aren’t safe?”
“I don’t think you’ll harm me,” she whispered. “I don’t know why but I trust you.”
And wasn’t that absurd, when she’d hardly trusted anyone all her life. Yet something in him gave her a sense of security, certainly unusual when locked in the darkness with a caged panther. “Please don’t pull away.” With slightly trembling fingers she shifted his tie out of the way and began to unbutton his shirt. She pressed her body against him, rubbing herself against the hard erection the layers of clothing between them couldn’t hide.
“This is insanity.” His voice was hard and edgy, his grip on her tightening almost to the point of pain. “There are things about me you don’t know.”
Taylor licked the bare skin of his chest that she’d exposed and slid her hands inside his shirt. The warmth of his body almost burned her. Beneath the hot male skin he was harder than steel, his muscles like thick, flexible ropes. As her tongue found his soft chest and the tip of it danced over him, his breathing hitched.
She looked up at him, struggling to bring out words. “Are you a wanted criminal? Do you have a deadly disease? No? Then I don’t care about anything else.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I want this. I want you.”
“Listen, you don’t know… God damn it, I should have my head examined. I can’t do this.”
“Why?” She yanked on his tie. “Am I so repulsive?” She dropped her hands and turned away, consumed by equal parts of desire and shame. Of course. He was used to women with long graceful legs and ample breasts, with tiny hips and small asses. His kind didn’t get turned on by women with bodies like dumplings. “That’s it, isn’t it? I’ll bet all your women are tall blondes in size two dresses.”
“That’s not true. Not true at all.” He reached for her and turned her to face him. “This is just…” His throat muscles worked reflexively as he swallowed, fighting for control. “I have to get out of here.”
She saw the heat in his eyes, felt the desire flowing from his hands into her body and the whiskey empowered her. “But you don’t really want to, do you? Or you’d be out that door already.” She reached out and pressed her hand against his crotch, a very bold move for her. Her hand cupped the hard, impressive bulge through the fabric of his pants and squeezed. “See? You want me too. This tells me.”
My God, is this me doing this?
He sucked in his breath. For a long moment they stood there, her hand on his crotch as she waited for whatever war he was fighting with himself to resolve itself. Then, as if he’d come to some momentous decision, he pushed her hands away and stripped off his jacket, shirt and tie. “I’ll be damned to hell for this.”
Taylor felt her mouth go dry at the broad expanse of chest and the soft curls that spread across it and arrowed down to his groin. She stood waiting for him to remove the rest of his clothing, wondering what to do next.
He came back to her and brushed his lips across her forehead. “You don’t look like this is a familiar dance. Last chance to change your mind. Otherwise I’ll lead.”
“I’m not changing my mind.”
I want this. I need it. Don’t turn away from me.
“I should be shot.” His voice sounded strained as he made one last move to talk some sense into himself. “I’m not…”
But his voice trailed away. Impatient at his reluctance, she gripped the edges of her jacket and blouse and ripped them open, sending buttons popping onto the floor. Next came the skirt, pooling at her feet. She stepped out of it and kicked it away along with her shoes. She was glad she hadn’t worn pantyhose. Her grandmother would have been scandalized which was the very reason why she’d done it.
Taylor heard the sharp intake of breath as his eyes fastened on her breasts and her nipples hardened into tight points.
He ran a finger across the upper slope of her breasts, back and forth as if memorizing the texture of her skin. When he reached around behind her and unclasped the bit of lace and silk, her breasts sprang free and he cupped them in his hands.
“You have unbelievable breasts.” His voice was awed. “Magnificent.” He bent his head and drew one nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, taking it into the wet heat of his mouth.
Taylor felt a streak of heat go directly from her nipple to her womb. When he ran his tongue over the nipple and then bit down gently she thought she would faint from the pleasure. Just that light grazing of his teeth and the wetness of his mouth were enough to make her legs wobble.
He gave a soft laugh and swept her up in his arms. “I think you’d do much better lying down, don’t you?”
He stripped back the covers on the bed and laid her down on the coolness of the sheet. His hand stroked her abdomen and moved downward with a gentle glide, the pads of his fingers leaving trails of fire on her skin. Taylor shivered both in anticipation and fear of the unknown. No man had ever looked at her with such a devouring gaze. When he slid his hand inside her panties and teased at her curls with his fingers the throbbing deep inside her vaginal walls increased in tempo.
She had barely a second for her insecure self to wonder if he found the touch of her pleasing and her curls soft and appealing to him. Then the panties were gone and she was stripped naked.
When she reached to snap off the b
edside lamp he shook his head and closed his fingers around her hand. He spoke in a voice heavy with desire. “I’m not doing this in the dark. I want to see what every inch of you looks like.”
She flinched under his gaze, turning her head away from the sudden brightness. No one had ever seen her completely naked except doctors. Her tiny roster of lovers had been more than willing to perform in complete darkness. Her choice but no one had objected. The darkness gave her a sense of refuge, hiding her flaws and protecting her from the disappointment she was sure she’d see in the eyes of her partner. And that’s all they’d been—partners. Not lovers. Lovers caressed and worshiped and adored. Her fumbling experimentation had never included that.
But this man’s hands smoothed down her arms and hips as if stroking fine silk and her skin began to tingle under the intensity of his gaze, the sweep of his eyes touching her like a caress. There was no hint of the expected disappointment, no indication that he found her body wanting in anyway. That in itself eased the painful band around her heart. Without taking his gaze from her, he rid himself of shoes and socks, trousers and boxers. When his cock sprang free her half-closed eyes popped open and saliva pooled in her mouth. His erection was enormous, springing proudly erect from the dark hair curled at its base. Below it his heavy testicles rested against his thighs. She swallowed, wondering if she could fit all of that inside her.
As if he read her mind, he said, “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Fine. What a mild word to describe what she wanted to feel.
She devoured his naked body with her eyes. He was a magnificent animal, her panther. The bedside lamp reflected on his sculpted body with its rippling muscles and sun-bronzed skin. Warrior, she thought. The stalker, not the prey. He would devour and the prey would relish the devouring. Her heartbeat stuttered at the thought of being captured by him.
He watched her face intently as he knelt on the mattress at her feet. Placing both hands on her legs, he bent them up and spread them apart, fully exposing her. Her breath caught as he looked at every inch of her. No one, none of the fumbling men she’d had such unfulfilling sex with, had exposed her so shamelessly or looked at her with such hunger. Or wanted to.
Her first instinct was to cover herself up, frightened of the gaze that seemed to see inside her. But the heat in his eyes blew that away and suddenly she wanted more. To expose more. Feel more. With her eyes fastened on him, she spread her legs wider to offer him even greater access, shocked at the ripple of pleasure it gave her.
“You like that, do you? I wonder what else is under that proper exterior of yours.” His face gave nothing away but his eyes flashed and he ran one fingertip the length of her slit, probing gently. When he spoke his voice was almost reverent. “God, your cunt is beautiful.”
She jerked slightly at his words and he gave a soft laugh.
“Not used to people telling you it’s beautiful? Or is it calling it a cunt that puts that startled look in your eyes? Does it offend your sensitive ears? Get used to it, little girl. Whatever polite sex you’ve had until now is out the window. Tonight I’m going to look at every inch of your cunt…” he stressed the word…”your pussy. I’m going to suck you with my mouth and plunge my fingers inside you. Then I’m going to fuck you with my cock until you don’t even know who you are.” He bent toward her. “Can you take that, little girl?”
His voice was hard, with an indefinable underlying edge. Was something wrong? Had she already displeased him in some way? She was caught in a mixture of inexperience and uncontained need, with no idea how to deal with such a complex man. What did he want her to say?
“Can you?’ he repeated, his head close to hers, eyes demanding an answer from her.
“Yes,” she hissed at last, pushing herself toward him. Rather than frightening her, his words aroused her to an unbelievable state. Her body suddenly was not her own but an instrument that his words were tuning for the main performance. “And I’m not a little girl. Far from it.”
He reached out a thumb and forefinger and gave a light pinch to her clit. “We’ll find out, won’t we, little girl? You wanted to unleash the panther. This is what you get.”
“Taylor.” She was struggling to hold onto the threads of her mind which was rapidly sinking into a haze.
“What?” He frowned at her.
“My name is Taylor. Call me Taylor, not little girl.”
“All right, Taylor.” He stressed the name, the tone slightly mocking. “Time to feel the panther’s bite.”
Her body quivered in anticipation of what his words promised.
He moved up on the bed and cradled her breasts in his palms, his thumbs and forefingers rubbing and tugging at the nipples. When he pinched them the sharp bite of tiny pain sent arrows of heat straight to her womb. Then his mouth closed down on them, nipping and licking at the pebbled points. The wet warmth of his tongue swirled around the under curve and traced a line at the crease between breast and rib. With a slow movement he rubbed the pads of his fingers back and forth over the heated points until Taylor thought she would come just from his attention to her breasts.
She shifted beneath him, wishing he’d stroke her between her legs again, wanting to feel his hand there touching her, probing, wringing every drop of liquid from her. This was every fantasy she’d every suppressed coming true, with the kind of man she’d dreamed of but who was always far beyond her reach. His hands on her were like magic, his tongue like a hot flame wherever it touched her. Her body was so aroused she couldn’t hold herself still. She shifted her hips and thrust them at him. Whatever was driving him didn’t matter, only that he bring her the pleasure promised with every touch of his hands.
“Touch me like you did before,” she pleaded, her voice coming from a faraway place and sounding like someone else’s. “With your fingers. Please.”
“Don’t rush me, little girl.” He spoke the words directly against her lips, his voice pouring into her mouth like melted chocolate. “I plan to take my time with this. A gourmet feast shouldn’t be hurried. It should be savored and enjoyed slowly, letting the flavors invade your body.”
Then his mouth was on hers again, his lips pressing and caressing, his tongue like a torch lighting fires wherever it touched.
Taylor reached up to untie his badge of civilization, the leather thong that held his hair gathered neatly at his nape and his hair fell around his shoulders like a black cape. She ran her fingers through it feeling the silken texture and the strands fell easily away from her touch. She moved against him, pressing her body upward against the heat and hardness of him. He made her aware of him in a way she’d never been aware of another man, his powerful strength wrapping around her like a cape.
“Easy, Taylor.” His big hand cradled her hip, stilling her, his voice a low crooning sound. “We don’t want to miss all the good parts.”
He kissed her jawline, under her ear, down the column of her neck. Like the brush strokes of an artist, his tongue and his mouth painted her skin. His teeth grazed the column of her neck and bit gently at the place where her neck and shoulder joined then soothed the bite with a tender flick of his tongue.
She shivered and the heavy beat inside her vaginal sheath intensified.
When he returned to her breasts he paused to suckle each one again, drawing little whimpers from her. They felt swollen and tight and she was sure her nipples would burst. His five o’clock shadow rasped against the tenderness of her skin but then the silkiness of his hair flowed over her. When she was sure she would come if he kept it up one more minute, he moved his head and pressed his open mouth on the softness of her belly. The sensation made the muscles in her sheath contract and moisture pour out of her, drenching the curls covering the opening of her sex. God, she wanted him there. Touch her there.
With attention to detail that could only be called reverent he kissed his way down the length of her body, licking every inch of skin as his mouth moved over it. At last he knelt and pull
ed her toward him with her legs draped over his thighs. With his thumbs he pressed apart her labia, staring intently at her open cunt. Without warning he leaned down and ran his tongue the length of her slit, then flicked his tongue across her clit. Her body jerked and she nearly came off the bed. She would have except for his pressure on her inner thighs.
“Delicious. I knew you’d taste like ripe fruit.”
He licked her again, his tongue like the sweep of a flame against her throbbing sex. When he had tasted his fill, he parted her lips, slid a long, lean finger inside her and stroked it back and forth.
At once she felt her vaginal muscles clench around it, sucking at it. Gripping the sheet with her fists she pushed against his hand, urging him to explore her, wanting to feel him higher, deeper. God, just the simple exploration of her sheath and she was ready to turn herself inside out for him. She wanted to impale herself on him and draw him into the deepest recesses of her body. When he slipped a second finger in beside the first, tremors rippled through her.
“Tight and wet, like a liquid fist. You might squeeze my cock to death. I don’t know what to do first with such a banquet spread before me. But I think I’m going to finger-fuck you because I want to watch that gorgeous cunt when you come. The first time.”
“Mmm,” was all she could manage as he slid his fingers inside her hot waiting flesh.
He leaned toward her, his face suffused with lust. “Better than pleasuring yourself, isn’t it, little girl? Better than your vibrator.” When she didn’t answer, surprise flashed across his face but he wiped it away almost at once. His eyes narrowed. “You’ve never used a vibrator, have you. Never touched yourself or used your hand to give release.”
She felt a flush creep up her body until even her breasts were a bright pink. Her eyelids lowered, his lashes sweeping across her cheeks as she tried to hide her embarrassment. She couldn’t tell him that in the house where she grew up everything was forbidden and nothing was private. There was no place she could have hidden to pleasure herself, or hide the toys she’d need. It was nothing short of amazing that she’d managed even the unsatisfying, awkward forays into sex that she’d accomplished without her grandparents seeing the telltale knowledge in her eyes or emblazoned somehow on her face.