When his finger slid between her folds, Marissa forgot how to breathe. And when he dipped inside of her, she wondered whether her heart would explode.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit. It was too good. Too much but not enough all at the same time.
Wanting more, Marissa thrust her hips forward, trying to force him deeper. The quick swat on her ass made her yelp.
“Don’t move,” Trace growled. “You’re mine for the night, Marissa. That’s the deal. I get to control your pleasure, not you. I get to make you squirm and hold you back at the same time. Understand?”
That’s the deal.
The words reverberated in her skull. At this point, she’d be willing to make a deal with the devil just as long as Trace would keep touching her.
Marissa nodded although her body was in total disagreement, proving it when her hips shifted again. Another stinging slap on her butt had her reveling in the fire that ignited in her veins.
God, had she ever been hotter than she was right then?
“So fucking pretty,” Trace whispered. “In a minute, I’m going to press my lips right here.” Trace punctuated his statement with his fingertip as it gently rubbed her clit. “I’m going to thrust my tongue in here,” he added as he slid his finger lower, delving into her entrance once more.
She wanted him to do those things now. Why wait? Why cause any unnecessary misery as she longed for the pleasure?
His finger went deeper, and Marissa realized there was no misery, just unadulterated pleasure to coincide with the desperate, eager wanting that had built to a crescendo.
“Trace,” she said, his name a plea on her lips. “Oh, God.”
He was thrusting one finger inside, retreating and then going deeper, faster. She was close. So close. For some reason, she wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to come or if he wanted her to hold off, but suddenly the decision wasn’t her own as her body soared.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me.”
Holy… Oh, God.
Marissa’s vision went hazy as the pleasure consumed her, an orgasm gripping her, pulling her under and holding her within its grasp until she wasn’t sure she could keep her knees locked beneath her.
“So beautiful.” Trace’s dark, rich tone washed over her, pulling her back from the exquisite high that he’d pushed her toward.
Her breaths came in ragged pants. Her arms felt heavy, unable to hold her up where she was propped on the side of the bed.
“I’m going to watch you come so many times you’ll be begging for me to stop,” he warned her.
“Never,” she breathed. She would never want him to stop.
Marissa wasn’t a virgin, and she wasn’t inexperienced, but what had just happened was… It was addicting, and she was already gearing up for more.
Twenty-Six
Responsive.
It was another word Trace would now use to describe Marissa. The way she reacted to the stinging slaps he placed on her ass was hotter than fucking hell. He hadn’t even thought about it the first time he’d spanked her. It was a normal reaction, one that she apparently enjoyed.
That drove his need higher as he watched Marissa, manipulating her slippery folds while she rode his finger. And to think this was only the beginning. At this point, he was ready to go all night, to see how many times he could make her come.
Pulling his finger from the depths of her pussy, Trace moved his hands up her body, stopping near her mouth. “Suck my finger,” he instructed. It was truthfully a test, another one to see what her reaction would be.
A lingering groan escaped his chest when Marissa leaned forward and sucked his finger into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the digit as she licked it clean.
Fuck, that was hot.
“Ah, hell,” he growled, retrieving his finger from between her lips as he stepped back. “Don’t move,” he added before she had a chance to do just that.
Marissa remained still, her head hanging between her shoulders as she kept her palms flat on the bed, her legs spread enticingly as she bent over in front of him. Needing to get her naked, just because the thought of her completely on display for him made him crazy, Trace took the edges of her panties in his hands and pulled, enjoying the sound of delicate lace tearing away from her body.
A delicious gasp escaped her lips as she pushed her ass back, obviously seeking him out.
“Impatient, are you?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Yes,” she said quickly.
He liked that about her. She didn’t seem worried about responding to him, and truthfully, he wanted her to answer him. He wanted her fully engaged in their lovemaking because that was the only way this would work. Trace wanted Marissa like an addict wanted his next fix, and knowing she was right there with him was the only thing that would satisfy him.
Running his palms over her ass, he admired the subtle pink handprint on the right side. “Very pretty.” He didn’t mean for the words to come out, but he didn’t care about taking them back once they had. “Crawl onto the bed. I want you right in the middle.”
Trace watched for any hesitation, but there seemed to be none. Maybe this was what Marissa needed to take her mind off everything. And though he’d been tempted to argue with her request for him to eradicate the pressing thoughts weighing heavily on her mind, because he preferred not to be used, Trace had kept his mouth shut. He was more than happy to distract her for the time being, but he could guarantee her it wouldn’t be the only time.
Then again, if he had any doubts that she’d retreat after this, he wouldn’t be moving forward.
Trace had been with many women in his lifetime. Enjoying to the fullest the pleasure to be found in a woman’s body, in her satisfaction. But never had he been totally consumed by a woman.
Everything about Marissa appealed to him. From the golden fall of her silky hair around her face to the crystal-blue of her eyes, her perfect pale pink lips, and a body to make a man forget his own name. But her intelligence and determination were what drew him to her ultimately. She was stronger than most women. Then again, she hadn’t had much choice up to this point. What would’ve broken other women, she had endured with her head up, her focus always forward.
Even if he detected a vulnerability down deep, he knew Marissa was made of some pretty tough stuff. And he wouldn’t lie, he’d been involved in sexual encounters where the woman he was with was looking for him to break her, to dominate her to the point of submission. Trace didn’t believe Marissa wanted to submit, which made his dominating side roar to the surface. But it also allowed him more freedom. Marissa didn’t seem to have any expectations from him other than mind-blowing pleasure.
That he could guarantee her.
Kneeling on the bed behind her, Trace settled his knees between her calves and inched closer until he was on all fours above her, his arms by hers, his chest pressed against her back.
Urging her hair to slide over her shoulders and leave her back bare, Trace then placed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck. Her head lowered slightly, giving him better access, and that’s when he saw it.
A tattoo. Two lines of small, black script across her upper back that read “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.” He recognized that quote from Emily Dickinson because it was something Marissa had always found comfort in.
Rather than ask her when she’d gotten it, Trace proceeded to explore her with his mouth, tasting her skin as he moved lower, dragging a trail of kisses down the center of her spine until he reached her lower back, letting his tongue dart into the crease of her ass.
Marissa shuddered, her body trembling. Trace performed the same action in the opposite direction, moving back up her spine to her neck. Holding himself above her with one hand, he reached the other beneath her, cupping her right breast in his palm and squeezing gently.
“I want to put my mouth here,” he told her, gently tweaking her nipple. “Do you want that, Marissa?”
“Yes. Everywhere,” she mumbled.
“What’s that?”
“I want your mouth everywhere.”
That was one request he fully intended to fulfill.
“Turn over for me,” he told her, not moving from his position. It forced her to collapse beneath him and roll over. He moved just enough so that she could shift her legs, which left him kneeling between her spread thighs, his hands pressed into the mattress on each side of her head.
He dared a glance down to her mouth and then decided he needed to taste her lips. Lowering himself to one forearm, he pushed his hand beneath her head, cradling the back as he eased closer, his lips touching hers tentatively. When her lips parted, her tongue darting out to taste him, he held himself in check.
A soft, urgent moan escaped her when he didn’t immediately relent by opening his mouth. Instead, he let her lick his lips while her hands came up to rest on his cheeks. Her soft, cool fingers slid down his jaw, then back up, the gentle scrape of her fingers against his stubble audible in the quiet of the room.
He decided right then that he loved when she touched him.
“Why have we waited so long for this?” she asked, pulling her mouth back and looking into his eyes.
Trace couldn’t answer that. He’d wanted to give in to this desire for longer than he could remember, but he’d attempted to be the gentleman, the protector. He wasn’t an easy man to deal with, he knew that. Trace wasn’t perfect. In fact, he had more flaws than most, but he knew when it came to what he wanted from Marissa, it would consume them both, and he hadn’t been so sure they could survive the aftermath.
He still wasn’t sure they could. But he was past the point of being able to contain the need. She was temptation and freedom all wrapped up in a beautiful, delicate package. He needed her, but at the same time, he feared her. As much as he would want from her, he knew she’d be the same, wanting so much in return. He had plenty to give, but he simply wasn’t sure how to go about doing that.
Trace had never been in love with a woman, and he knew without a doubt that Marissa would need love. Pure, untainted love. Could he do it? He wasn’t certain. But the more time that passed, Trace knew that if anyone would ever weave their way into his heart, it would be her. Hell, he was pretty sure she already had.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered, staring deep into the crystal blue that peered up at him with so much hope, so much desire he was tempted to slide deep inside her body and hold her to him so that they would be one. Then he’d never let her go once that happened.
But he didn’t.
He had dreamed about pleasuring her, and this was his opportunity. He was going to treat it as though it might be his last. It was how he handled everything in his life. There were no guarantees of tomorrow; he knew that much. His life had been entwined with danger and sometimes unnecessary risk. Trace tried never to take anything for granted, and he damn sure wasn’t about to now.
Shifting his legs, he forced Marissa to turn until they were lying on the bed correctly, her head near the headboard.
“Put your hands above your head,” he stated. He tried to keep his tone light, but it wasn’t a request. The gleam in her eyes and the gentle smirk that tilted the edge of her mouth told him she knew that.
Without questioning him, she lifted her arms above her head, never looking away from him. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest as her excitement built, and he wasn’t sure he could make her wait too long.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. “I love seeing you just like that.”
Considering he didn’t have women over to his house, Trace hadn’t actually planned for this moment. But tying Marissa to his bed, watching as she was helpless beneath him, was something he couldn’t resist. Glancing around, Trace tried to find something he could use to tie her to his bed, something to hold her in place so he could pleasure her until she was begging him to make her come. His gaze landed on the alarm clock on the nightstand, then traveled over the cord that led to the wall.
That would certainly do.
Reaching forward, he yanked on the cord until he felt it disengage from the wall, the numbers on the clock going dark. Pulling the cord from behind the bed, he once again peered down at Marissa, pushing up so that he was kneeling. She was watching him, yet there wasn’t an ounce of fear in her eyes, and she actually seemed more interested in looking at his body than in what he was doing. The heat in her gaze as she looked at him was a boost to his ego, something he’d never cared about before. But to know that she appreciated what she saw loosened a knot inside of him, one he hadn’t even known existed.
Desperate to get his mouth back on her, Trace climbed off the bed, coming to stand near the headboard, still holding the cord in his hand. Quickly, he restrained her, tying the cord loosely around each of her wrists and then to the rails in the headboard.
Marissa smiled up at him, so sexy and so damn sweet. She tried to pull on her restraints, but they held enough to keep her where he wanted her for the time being.
As he stood back, admiring his handiwork, he let his gaze drift slowly over her, offering the same appreciation he’d seen in her eyes earlier. She seemed surprisingly open to him looking at her — eye fucking as she’d referred to it before. And maybe that was what he was doing, because he couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Just looking at her made his cock pulse painfully.
Something he was still ignoring.
He made his way down to the end of the bed, still watching, admiring. He put his hands on each of her feet, kneading the arches gently with his thumbs until she sighed. Working his way up, he eased onto the mattress between her legs as he explored higher with his fingertips, gently tracing up her shin, then to her knee, making sure his touch remained light.
In the dim glow from the lamp on the bedside table, he could see the goose bumps rise on her skin, her chest continuing to rise and fall regularly, her breath hissing in and out of her lungs, proof that even his gentlest of touches affected her.
He settled on his knees between her legs, stopping when he reached her thighs. He transferred his attention from her face, down over the generous swell of her breasts, then down her slender torso until he reached the juncture between her thighs.
“Bare,” he said, his voice laced with gravel as he kept a firm grasp on his control. “I like you bare.”
Marissa didn’t say anything, but her breath hitched when he trailed the backs of his fingers over her smooth, hairless mound. Teasing her, he went lower, sliding one knuckle between her slick folds, grazing her clit lightly before retreating.
“You like when I tease your clit?” he asked, meeting her gaze once more.
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes locked on his.
“What about when I lick your clit? Will you like that?”
Marissa nodded, and he got the impression she wasn’t able to speak because her breaths had increased, her body tensing beautifully as though she were trying to will his mouth down to her pussy.
He grinned sheepishly at her as he bent over, his back bowing as he let his breath fan across the sensitive skin. He darted his tongue out and let it slide quickly over her clit before he sat back up. “Like that?”
Marissa nodded, a little more enthusiastically than before.
“I’m not going to continue until you say it,” he informed her.
“Yes,” she said on a breathless moan.
“Yes what?”
“I like it. I like when you lick my clit.”
Trace couldn’t control the hungry growl that escaped. He loved the sound of her voice, the sweet lilt of her Texas twang. And Lord have mercy, when she spoke to him like that…
It turned him on when she talked dirty, more so because Marissa wasn’t the type of woman who would dare speak like that.
What was the saying? A lady in public, a freak in the bedroom? Yeah, that was a rather apt description of the sexy woman splayed out before him. He admired her ladylike grace, the sweet, gentle
way she interacted with her family and friends. But he loved the uninhibited side of her that had let loose as soon as he had touched her.
“Ask me nicely, baby. And then I’ll eat your sweet pussy until you scream my name.”
The hitch in her breath was loud in the silent room, and Trace’s dick jumped at the excitement he saw in her eyes.
“Please.”
Trace didn’t encourage her with words; he simply sat there, his hands kneading her thighs softly.
He watched as she swallowed hard. Her tantalizing pink tongue darted out and licked her bottom lip, a tempting move on her part, but Trace refused to respond.
“Please, lick me.”
“Say it. Ask me to lick your sweet pussy, Marissa.” Trace knew his words were choppy, his control slipping as she watched him so eagerly.
“Please lick my pussy,” she whispered, the words barely audible, but they were loud enough to please him.
“It would be my pleasure.” Pretending he wasn’t aching to do just that, Trace eased himself between her legs, anticipation scorching him from the inside out.
He wasn’t sure Marissa would ever even realize just how much control she actually had over him, no matter what it looked like from her point of view.
□«»□«»□«»□
Marissa could hardly swallow past the lump of desire clogging her throat. As she watched Trace’s magnificent form settling between her thighs, she felt his breath warm against her skin, and her back arched slightly. Her skin was crawling with need, her body begging for what she knew he could provide.
When he’d teased her a moment before, she’d been surprised she hadn’t shattered from that one single intimate touch of his tongue to her clit. The only thing that had kept her from going over the edge was when he’d pulled back and looked down at her with a burning hunger in his beautiful white-gray gaze. No man had ever looked at her like that. No man had ever looked as though he wouldn’t be able to take another minute without touching her.
It was a heady thing.
Just when she settled back onto the bed, Trace’s tongue slid quickly through her folds without warning, and her entire body bowed up off the bed, her arms pulling at the restraints that effectively kept her in place. She groaned, the sound not at all ladylike or sweet as the exquisite pleasure exploded within her. The soft heat of his tongue against her most sensitive flesh had her close to bursting.
Wait for Morning (Sniper 1 Security #1) Page 23