Take Me

by Diane Alberts

  Glancing back to him, she must’ve seen his expression. She rolled her eyes and flopped back against the seat. “Don’t ruin it by looking cocky or you’ll be going home alone.”

  The hell he was. He grabbed her and pulled her up against him, running his fingers down her bare arms. She wore a long silver chain that dangled between her breasts, and a blue tank top that just barely showed off her beaded bra thingy that dancers wore. He played with the rhinestone-encrusted strap, his touch feather light. She braced herself, but didn’t move away. “No, I’m not. And neither are you.”

  She shivered when he traced the sliver chain, stopping at the swell of her breasts. He traced the curve of her cleavage, not dipping inside her shirt but rather skimming along the neckline. When she bit down on her lower lip and arched her back, he could barely stop himself from claiming her mouth again. But he wouldn’t give the cabbie a free show.

  She was his tonight, and his alone.

  She lifted her mouth to his, but he slid a finger in between their mouths like she had done to him earlier. She pulled back, her eyes narrow slits. “What game are you playing? I swear to God if we get back to my place and you leave me hanging…”

  He grasped her hand, yanking her down against his cock. “Believe me, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Then why not kiss me?”

  “You’re mine tonight.” He shot a pointed glance at the cab driver. “I’m not touching you until we’re alone and no one else can see you. No one else can hear your sighs and moans. They’re all mine.”

  She dug her nails into his biceps, her cheeks red. “Then this cab better speed, because I’m not gonna wait much longer.”

  He traced the swell of her breasts again. She was right. They were both on the edge.

  Luckily, they made it to her place in record time. Mike tossed some cash at the cab driver—could have been a wad of twenties for all he knew—and followed Morgan up the stairs to her apartment. Her ass swayed in front of him as they climbed higher and higher. With each step they took, his lust for her climbed higher and higher, too. By the time they reached her door and she unlocked it, he was boiling over with need.

  He entered her apartment, shut the door behind him and scanned the room. Everything was in perfect order. The colorful pillows perfectly arranged. The coffee table painstakingly dusted with an artful arrangement of candles and shells, of all things. He’d expected a messy, cluttered apartment out of her. Not this.

  She spun to face him and grabbed the hem of her tank top. Without a word, she ripped it over her head. Her sparkling bra cradled her large breasts to perfection and she ran her hand over her breasts like he’d done earlier. “What do you think?”

  “I think I’m ready to fuck you.” He growled and slung her over his shoulder. “Which way to the bedroom?”

  “Left,” she said, laughing breathlessly. As she hung there, she fondled his butt and dug her nails into his jeans. Damn, even when she was in a submissive position the girl didn’t give in. “Hurry up!”

  He walked into her room and tossed her onto the meticulously made bed. She might be wild and free when it came to sex, but she obviously liked the rest of her life orderly and controlled.

  Just like him.

  He liked that about her more than he should have. Shutting off his annoying brain from analyzing her psyche, he fell on top of her and melded his mouth to hers. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his hips, surging up against him. His body begged to hurry up and bury himself inside of her, but he ignored the urge. This was not a time to rush. He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth to hers so he could gain better access. Hell, she tasted good. Like whiskey sour and something sweet. She reached around him, grabbed on to the back of his shirt, and tugged.

  He stopped kissing her long enough to rip the shirt over his head, then went back for more. She ran her hands all over his chest and looked at him through her lashes. When she licked her lips, he bit back a groan. The sight of her pink tongue darting out sent a fist of need straight to his stomach. He didn’t think it was possible but his jeans had grown even tighter than they’d been before.

  She caressed his abs. “Damn. If I knew you were hiding amazing pecs and a six pack under there, I would’ve climbed all over you in that booth and I wouldn’t have cared who saw us.”

  “I would’ve cared.”

  “If you say so, Green Light.” He laughed despite himself. She’d heard that? Before he could respond she said, “Take the rest off.”

  He slid off of her and began undoing his belt. He took his time, enjoying the way she watched him. When he unclasped the latch, he murmured. “I told you, I don’t share.”

  She lifted up on her elbows, her gaze at cock level. “Then hurry the hell up before I take matters into my own hands.”

  The thought of her pleasuring herself while he watched was tempting but it was for another time. Right now he would be the one doing the pleasuring. “Don’t even think about it.”

  He ripped the belt open and undid his fly, and as he stepped out of his jeans, she trailed her hand down her own tight stomach. Fuck, he’d seen lots of women do that in his time, and they all did it because they thought it looked sexy. But with her, he had a feeling she didn’t even know or care how damn sexy he thought she looked when she did it. She didn’t have to try to be hot. She just was.

  He pulled a condom out of his pocket before he dropped the jeans to the floor. Her eyes flitted to the foil in his hand, then back to his abs. “Take the boxers off, too.”

  He started to take them off but froze with his hands on his waistband. There she went again, calling all of the shots. “Uh-uh.”

  “Excuse me?” She blinked up at him. “Why the hell not?”

  He pointed at her. “Your shorts go first, and then your panties.” He cocked his head. “You can keep the boots.”

  She looked like she might argue but then she stood up, kicked off her boots—no doubt just to get under his skin—and slid her shorts down her long, perfect legs.

  Holy fuck, she didn’t have underwear on. If he’d known that, he would have forgotten all of his rules and buried his fingers inside of her in the cab. The driver wouldn’t have had a clue. She was gloriously, beautifully naked minus the sparkling bra. The curve of her hips begged for his hands and so did the small patch of curls between her legs.

  He took a stumbling step toward her but she sat down on the bed and held her leg out—resting her foot on his thigh and keeping him back. “Put my boots back on first.”

  Fuck yeah. He knelt at her feet and picked up the right boot. Before he slid it back into place, he kissed a trail up her calf to her knee. The higher he got, the more her leg trembled in his hands. By the time he slid her boot on, her fingers were in his hair and she was urging him higher, begging without words for him to continue up her leg and bury his face in her warmth.

  He pulled away and picked up the other boot. This time he started at the top of her leg, just an inch or so above her knee. He nibbled at her soft skin and she moaned out loud. “You wanted me to wear them. So just put the damn boot on already.”

  He ignored her and worked his way over her knee, down her calf, to her ankle—which he bit gently. She cried out and scooted toward the edge of the bed. As if she could force him to do what she wanted if she just scooted a little bit closer.

  He slid the boot into place and then leaned back on his haunches. “Now that’s hot.”

  She held her hands out. “Get over here.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  He didn’t answer. Just crossed his arms.

  She’d started this game and would find out what he planned to do soon enough.

  Chapter Four

  Morgan swallowed hard. He was shooting her the most powerful, darkly passionate look she’d ever seen in
her whole life—a look that promised she would be whimpering with pleasure any minute—but he wasn’t coming any closer.

  Why?

  She might be fairly freethinking when it came to sex but she didn’t know what his game was. Had she made a mistake in bringing him here? Was it too late to call chicken and send him packing? Up until now, he’d been refreshingly alpha male in the face of her own thirst for control in bed. It had been a surprise she welcomed whole-heartedly.

  But now…?

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Looking.” He cocked a brow. Man, he liked to do that. “Am I not allowed to look?”

  “I’d like you to do more than look.”

  His eyes lit up and he grinned. He trailed his fingers over her bare leg, inching higher. “Roll over.”

  “No way.” She shook her head. “Not happening.”

  “Why not?”

  “No.”

  He laughed lightly. “Never mind. Stay where you are. We’ll save it for next time.”

  “Who said you’re getting a next time?” She paused, overcome with a moment of panic. She wasn’t interested in a relationship—long-term or short-term, unless short-term only meant one night. Certainly he didn’t think…

  She remembered his grandiose stoplight speech from the bar and relaxed.

  No, this is temporary fun for both of us.

  He nibbled on her thigh and she dropped her head back on the bed, closed her eyes and surrendered herself to his lips. In her haze of desire, she thought she might have heard him reply “me,” but she wasn’t sure. And she wasn’t asking him to repeat himself, or he would be distracted from the delicious things he was doing to her leg.

  As he inched higher, his hair teased her skin. When he nibbled on her hip, she spread her legs wider, allowing him better access. He scooted her lower on the bed, until her ass barely hung off the edge. Then, without any warning or teasing, his mouth was on her. His tongue was flicking her clit, sending a hard jolt of pleasure rocking through her.

  He’d been going so slowly and teasingly—she’d been certain the torture would continue until she was ready to burst—so the onslaught of pleasure took her off guard. It was almost too much, too fast. She rocked her hips up, trying to break his hold over her. She wasn’t ready. Hadn’t prepared herself for…

  Oh, God.

  She burst into a million pieces, unable to believe that he had made her come within seconds of touching her. The way he acted indicated he would be good in bed, but there had been men who’d fallen short on that unspoken promise. Not Mike. No, he delivered and he delivered right away. She was still shaking when he crawled up her body and made quick work of her bra. When she was naked, he closed his mouth over her nipple, sucking it deeply in his mouth.

  He didn’t even give her a second to recover from the mind-shattering orgasm he’d given her. He went right back to work on blowing her mind…again. Bless him.

  As he sucked the taut bud in his mouth, his fingers pushed into her. Her whole body tensed around him. Begged for his touch. He pressed his thumb against her sensitive clit and moved his fingers inside of her. Slowly at first, but then faster as she squirmed and moaned. He scraped his teeth against her nipple and she cried out before burying her hands in his hair. She yanked hard, making him release his hold on her.

  “Now. I need you now.” When he looked up at her, his gaze was so hot she was sure she’d burst into flames. She cringed at the begging tone of voice she used. Hated herself for it. But he’d reduced her to a mass of want and need and only he could fix it. Even she couldn’t believe it when she added, “Please.”

  “Not yet.” He thrust his fingers inside her again and she bit down hard on her lip. She refused to show him how much she liked what he was doing. He moved to her other breast and took it in his mouth.

  This time she lost it. She practically shrieked at the pleasure he caused, her back arching into his and her hips rolling against his hand. “God, you’re killing me.”

  He didn’t answer. Just scraped his teeth against her nipple again, in complete and utter control over her body. She was the puppet and he was the puppet master.

  It was time to take control back.

  She shoved his shoulders as hard as she could and he fell onto the floor. He hadn’t been expecting her to fight him. Good. The element of surprise had managed to land him flat on his ass. She fell to the floor in between his knees and claimed his mouth in a deep, punishing kiss. He groaned and started to push her away but she bit down on his lip and sucked. His hands on her hips stopped pushing and instead started pulling her closer.

  His erection ground against her core, demanding release. Demanding her. She crawled down his body, licking her way down his pecs and killer abs. He really had the perfect physique. The type you saw on romance novel covers. Hell, his was even better. When she reached the waistband of his boxers, she cupped his penis through the soft cotton.

  He groaned and rubbed against her. Then she slid her hand inside his boxers and closed her fingers over the long shaft, sliding her hand up his hard length. He hissed and arched into her hand, his abs flexing. She grew even wetter, watching the pleasure flitting over his face. He slammed his eyes shut and groaned.

  “Boxers off,” she commanded, her voice thick. She teased the head of his penis, squeezing gently, then let go. “Now.”

  He ripped off his boxers without arguing. She saw he wanted to fight to take charge but also wanted her to finish what she’d started. He wasn’t in control anymore—he’d given in to the pleasure like she had.

  Finally.

  With no clothing barriers in her way, she immediately closed her mouth around him. He didn’t have time to tell her no or try to get the upper hand. His entire body tensed and then he ground out, “Morgan.”

  She took as much of him in her mouth as she could, then she took a little more. As she took him deeper, she cupped his balls and tugged down, making him curse and grip her tighter. The muscles in his arms flexed and grew more pronounced, as if he held himself back from her with more force than she could ever imagine.

  She flicked her tongue over the head of his penis, and with him still in her mouth, she murmured.

  “Fuck. No more.”

  He ripped her off of him, tossed her up on the bed and slid the condom over his length. She watched him, aroused at the sight of his hands on his flesh. She could tell he was well endowed from their groping in the cab earlier, but hot damn he was huge. He yanked her ankle until she practically hung off the side of the bed, wrapped her legs around his waist, and claimed her lips.

  With one quick thrust, he was buried inside of her. She screamed his name and clung to him, wanting more. He was holding himself back. “Please. I need you.”

  His jaw flexed, and his grip on her tightened. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” She dug her boots into the skin of his butt. “Don’t you dare hold out on me now.”

  He seemed to snap. To finally lose what little bit of self-control he’d held onto. He growled and slammed into her hard. Her body stretched to accommodate him and clenched with the pleasure. He did it again, harder, and she clawed at his back, probably drawing blood. He didn’t seem to even notice. He increased his tempo, captured her mouth again, and lifted her butt higher.

  She clung to him, letting him sweep her away. As the pressure increased, demanding release, she cried out his name and begged, “Please. I’m so close.” He tilted his hips as he thrust inside of her and she burst. Everything seemed to disappear except the way he made her feel.

  “Morgan,” he ground out and then thrust into her three more times. He grunted and she felt him stiffen. His entire body went taut before he collapsed on top of her and buried his face in her neck.

  Their unsteady breathing blended together, filling the otherw
ise silent room. He held her flush against his hard body, still buried deep inside of her. Now was the time she usually shoved the man away and thanked him for the fun, to separate the pleasure she could find in bed with a man from the reality of being an independent woman.

  And she realized that for the first time ever, she didn’t want to let go yet.

  Eh, crap. She might be in over her head with Mike. In her defense, no other man had ever made her feel so damned good before, either. But the fact that she wasn’t ready for him to leave was all the more reason he should. She released him and drew in a deep breath. All she smelled was hard, sexy man. “Well, that was fun.”

  He rose up on his elbows, a cocky grin on those magical lips of his. “Fun, huh?”

  “Yeah.” When he kissed the side of her neck, she pushed against his chest. “You should probably go now. I have to get up early in the morning.”

  He drew back, his eyebrows drawn together. “Excuse me? Are you kicking me out already?”

  Was she?

  “Yep.”

  “Wow. You’re brutal.” He gave a soft laugh and withdrew from her. He rose to his feet and crossed the room to her trashcan. With his back to her, he removed the condom. “I usually wait until the girl at least comes down from her high before kicking her out of bed.”

  She kicked off her boots, pulled back the bedcovers, climbed underneath and yanked them up to her chin, oddly modest and insecure now that he’d rocked her world. This was a new feeling to her, too. Since when did she get shy after amazing sex? This was ridiculous. She was naked in bed with a sheet up to her chin. “Yeah, well, I’m not you.”

  He shook his head, laughing again, and stepped into his boxers. As she watched him, she wondered if she’d kicked him out too soon. Maybe they could have had a bit more fun before he left. But then she remembered how content she’d been in his arms and she knew she had made the right choice. Besides, he didn’t exactly look downtrodden over the fact that she’d booted him out. He didn’t care and neither did she. Not really. She couldn’t afford to grow attached to a man right now.