More Than Tempt You

by Shayla Black

  My tongue belongs there.

  “Say something,” she begs. “You’re just staring.”

  It seems impossible that she’s feeling insecure, but I hear it in her voice. “Oh, sweetheart… You are sexy as hell. I’m going to eat those panties off your body.”

  A flush steals across her skin from head to toe. Time to get busy.

  After tossing the condoms on the nightstand, I lift Bethany and drape her across the middle of the bed, shoving tropical-colored pillows out of my way and onto the floor. Then I crawl above her, looking down at her gleaming like a pearl in the evening shadows. She’s focused completely on me, on us, on what will happen next.

  She stuns me when she trails her fingers down my chest, over my abs, and wraps hers fingers around my cock again. “I’m waiting.”

  “Are you trying to rush me?”

  “If you’re still wondering, I must not be doing this right.” She strokes my length again, harder, faster.

  Somehow, I resist the urge to let my eyes roll into the back of my head and lose myself. “You’re doing more than fine, sweetheart. Trust me.”

  In fact, the longer she’s got me in her hand, the more I feel my skin go damp and my system buzz with need. If I don’t stop her, this is going to be over way before I’m ready.

  I twist away from her, tangle my fingers in hers, and pin her wandering hand to the bed. “But I’m a gentleman. Ladies come first.”

  Her lips part in a soft, open-mouthed O as I work my way down her body, pressing kisses to the undersides of her breasts, her abdomen, and between the sexy crisscrossed straps of her panties before I open my mouth over the pink lace covering her pussy.

  Bethany wasn’t lying; she’s drenched. Through the fabric, I smell her. I taste a hint of her essence that only leaves me hungry for more. I feel how swollen and juicy she is.

  “So fucking sweet,” I moan.

  She shudders and cries out as I drag my tongue up the lace, then prod her clit through the lace. “Oh!”

  “If you’re at all attached to these panties, you should take them off now. If you leave me to do it, I can’t guarantee they’ll be wearable tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” She wraps her thumbs around the straps at her hips.

  Though I want her naked, I resent having to take my mouth off her and I’m even harder-pressed to give her the space to strip. With a curse, I ease up and flip on the closest light so I can see every inch of her, especially her face when I thrust deep and fill her up.

  I turn just in time to see her wriggle her panties down her thighs and into a puddle on the floor. Then I get my first view of her completely naked. “Oh, sweetheart… Give that pretty pussy to me now.”

  I back her onto the bed and wedge myself between her legs. She falls to her elbows, watching me, eyes dark with desire. I prowl closer until I flatten her onto her back. It takes all my restraint not to fit my hips between her spread thighs, probe for her wet opening, and plunge my throbbing length inside her.

  Instead, I lave her hard, juicy nipples and draw each, one after the other, into my mouth, eliciting another catch of breath from Bethany. Then I let my lips trail down her body once more until the Shangri-La of her pink, neatly trimmed sex is right under my lips. She’s wet and swollen. Her clit peeks out from between her folds, begging for attention.

  I cup her with my hand. Her entire body shudders as her eyes close. She lets out a long, agonized breath. “Clint…”

  “Hmm, I’m here. And I’m staying here for a good, long while. Spread your legs wider.”

  She trembles as she complies. “I-I don’t need to be more aroused for sex. Believe me, I’m more than ready.”

  “We’re going to get there, I promise. First, I need this perfect peach of a pussy in my mouth.”

  Thankfully, she doesn’t protest.

  With a growl, I rake my tongue up her center, lapping at her sweetness and reveling in her shocked little moan, before I settle on her clit.

  Her fingers find their way into my hair, and she tugs, hips wriggling, as I work the hard bud.

  “Oh, my…” Her back arches. “Oh. Oh…yes.”

  The sound of her pleasure resonates through every nerve and cell in my body. Once, I swore I’d never give her an orgasm. Now I can’t fucking wait. There’s something so kittenish and sensual about Bethany. If I had to bet whether any of her former lovers had ever gone down on her, I’d gamble everything I owned the answer is no. Being her first is turning me the fuck on.

  Happily, I redouble my efforts. I’m glad now that I’ve always enjoyed being oral with females. It won’t take me long to learn what stroke of my tongue will send her over the fastest. And I’ll definitely enjoy figuring it out.

  Soon, I settle into a slow, draggy rhythm, teasing her with long strokes before I lazily suck her clit into my mouth and pull, taunt her with a little nip, then release her to start all over again. Soon, she’s tensing, holding her breath, squirming and panting and begging.

  “Clint… Oh, please. Please. I…” Her next breath trembles, along with the rest of her body. “You’re killing me.”

  “Hmm,” I drawl, unwilling to take my mouth off her succulent flesh.

  I love the way she swells and blushes and grips my hair, trying to pull the short strands. The sting of my scalp spurs me on, makes me want to taste her on a deeper level.

  With my thumbs, I part her rosy folds and peek at all her sweet pink flesh. She’s beautiful all over, but hell, this must be the most perfect pussy I’ve ever seen, especially when I’m watching her whole body twist and writhe with the pleasure I’m giving her. And maybe I only think she’s so ideal because I’m in the moment. Maybe she’s really not any better put-together than any other woman. But I don’t remember similar thoughts ever crossing my mind.

  I dip my tongue deep in her well, drawing from the source of her flavor. Fuck, I want her everywhere—on me, around me, under me. Arousing her is pushing me close to the brink. I need to send her over and end my self-torture.

  I’ve got to get inside her.

  As I curl my tongue deeper, I circle my thumb around her distended clit in slow circles. She wails in agony, back contorting. Her skin is rosy all over. She struggles to breathe. And she looks so goddamn beautiful in pleasure I can hardly remember why I ever refused to give her any.

  “I-I’m…so close.”

  Fuck, yeah, she is. I can feel it, taste it, sense it.

  I grip her hips, sweep my tongue back over her clit, and lap my way into the rhythm I know will undo her. Seconds later, she digs her nails into my scalp, thrusts frantic hips up at me, and saws air in and out of her lungs before she screams like I’ve devastated her with the kind of pleasure that’s changed her definition of the word. And I’m loving every second of her orgasm, the smooth flow of honey, the undulating roll of her body as she tries to wring every last moment of ecstasy out of her climax and share it with me.

  Finally, she falls limply to the bed, breathing deep and fast, legs lax. Beautiful satiation transforms her face.

  I drink her expression in as I grab a condom before making my way up her body, kissing one hip bone and dragging my tongue over the soft valley between her breasts. Then I settle on top of her.

  “Am I alive?” she asks with a loopy grin.

  “You are,” I assure her. “In about two minutes, I’ll happily prove it again.”

  She shakes her head. “In two minutes, I’ll still be lying here with my eyes closed, trying to comprehend what just happened.”

  I laugh as I peel open the condom and roll it down my aching cock. “Not a chance. Come here, sweetheart.”

  When I gather Bethany in my arms, she shifts to her side with me, soft and instantly willing to cuddle. It feels good to have her against me, trusting me enough to hold her close when she’s vulnerable.

  Stroking my palm across her skin, I glide down her back, over the cheek of her ass, across her thigh. Needing more of her nearness, I lift her leg over my hip and press kisses ac
ross her shoulder, up her neck, take teasing nips of her lobe. Her eyes flare wide with surprise and rekindling arousal.

  I send her a knowing smile before I brush her lips with a kiss. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  I press my mouth to hers again, this time nudging her open. As soon as she parts for me, I invade deep, fusing our lips together as I roll her to her back and align my cock with her opening. I probe her, gliding inside her—one slick, tight inch at a time. She wraps her legs around me, gasping as I slowly submerge myself all the way.

  Oh, damn… Being buried inside Bethany is almost a sacred experience. A shudder wracks me from head to toe. A groan tears from my chest. My hands tighten on her hips. I want to keep her pinned under me for each thrust as much as I want to feel her in my grip and be assured that she’s mine.

  I tear my lips from hers. “Hold on, this is going to be hard and fast.”

  “Yes…please.”

  That’s all I needed to hear.

  Like a man possessed, I grip the far edge of the mattress and use it as leverage to fuck her in deep, rapid-fire strokes. Her lips trailing across my jaw and her arms wrapped around me like she hopes I never let go does something to me. But the way her pussy grips me is magic. With every retreat and surge inside her, I swear she melts my muscles, ignites my skin, and fries my brain.

  “Yes!” I use every bit of my strength to pull myself up and into her, even deeper than before. “Fuck…”

  “Clint!” Her lips move in a flurry of frenetic need across my shoulder. “I ache again. How?”

  Around me she tightens, wails, fingers digging desperately into me. I can’t last much longer. Bethany is destroying my self-control. Being inside her and hearing her climbing cries of passion juices my bloodstream with pure, dizzying euphoria. I can’t stop myself from plowing into her one hard, pounding stroke after another.

  “Come for me,” I growl out. “Come…”

  It’s my last coherent thought before bliss rolls me. The sensations only grow more intense when Bethany tosses her head back and clamps down on me with a violent, shattering scream. As she comes apart in my arms, I unravel. Blood rushes. My heart pounds. My body grinds, churning closer and closer to a climax that I swear feels cataclysmic and unlike anything I’ve ever termed an orgasm in my life. It’s stripping me down, ripping me up, fucking rooting me to this woman. I should be terrified. Instead, it can’t get here fast enough.

  When the peak finally hits, it seizes my whole body. My rhythm falters. I try to get impossibly deeper inside her. Even though it’s hopeless, I still sweat and growl and charge ahead, pouring out every ounce of need into her. Something thick and unfamiliar backfills its place. I can’t identify it, but it’s sweet. It attaches me to Bethany in a way I’ve never felt. It makes me grip her harder, spill the last drops of my soul into her, and cling as if only she can somehow save me.

  As if, regardless of who she is or what’s happened in the past, with her is where I belong.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dawn is a promise on the horizon when I slip out of Bethany’s cottage and tiptoe to the main house. She’s still sleeping, wrapped in the limp sheets and cozy blankets we shared last night.

  Other than Bethany, I can’t remember the last woman I actually slept beside for more than an hour or two. I usually don’t like touching a lover in my sleep. But, as seems to be the case with a lot of things, she’s different. All night, Bethany kept curling away from me on the far side of the bed. More than once, I rolled closer and dragged her body against me, wrapping my arm around her waist and burying my face in her neck. I woke up to her scent, to the feel of her backside against my cock, which stood hard and eager to pleasure her again after a peaceful, uninterrupted night’s sleep.

  Since Dad’s sudden death, that’s unusual, too.

  I let myself in the main house’s back door, hoping not to see anyone, and promise myself I’ll start mentally unpacking last night after coffee.

  As the brew drips into a spare carafe, I rummage around to find some fruit and a few pastries Keeley keeps on hand. As I toss everything onto a tray I find in the pantry, my phone buzzes. I almost ignore it—until I see the display.

  “Bret?” I answer my middle brother. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just checking in, making sure you’re okay. Happy New Year, bro.”

  “Sorry I didn’t call yesterday. Tending bar the other night was a bitch. I think my feet are still recovering,” I try to joke, all the while wondering why Bret is calling so early…and what I’m going to tell him about Bethany. I know how he’ll view the situation—and that he’ll see what’s happening between her and me as a betrayal.

  “It’s cool. I would have called sooner myself, but man, was I hungover. I’m so glad class doesn’t start for a couple of weeks.”

  “Yeah. Listen, not to nag, but it’s time to lay off the booze and start focusing on the future again.”

  He’s quiet for a very long time. “Yeah, I know. And I know you’ve had it way worse than me, watching Dad die and being helpless to stop it. But I keep realizing that I’m twenty-one, and both of my parents are already gone. Basically, I’m an orphan. And every time I think about doing things like finding my first job, buying my first house, or getting married without them giving me advice or cheering me on, it scares the shit out of me. I’ve got no safety net.”

  I understand exactly how he feels, but he’s wrong. “I know it’s not the same, but you’ve got me. I’ll always be here for you. I don’t profess to know everything, but I promise I’ll help you figure it out as best I can.”

  He sighs. “Yeah, and I appreciate it. I’m aware that I need to adult and to stop leaning on parties and vodka to get through this shit. I’m just trying to figure out how. It will be easier once you nail that fucking bitch. How’s it going, by the way? Get anything from her yet?”

  I wince. What the hell do I say? Bret is convinced that if I pin Dad’s death on Bethany, his pain will vanish. Looking back, I pretty much thought the same.

  “Listen… Now that I’m here and looking into all the facts, I think we may have gotten it wrong. She’s not who you think.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Based on what I’ve been able to find, I don’t think she was involved with the theft of Dad’s money.”

  “What? How is that even possible?” he shoots back hotly. “She was his financial advisor. She had the pulse on his investments. According to you, she fucking lied to him, didn’t care that he died of a massive heart attack after he got the news, then skipped town. What suddenly changed?”

  “Bethany and I work together, so I’ve spent some time actually getting to know her. She doesn’t have a greedy or vicious bone in her body. I even had the chance to search her place and found nothing incriminating. I just don’t think she did it.” When he answers me with shocked silence, I feel compelled to fill the void. “Bret, there are two sides to every story. I don’t know all of hers yet but—”

  “Oh, my god. You fucked her, didn’t you?” my brother growls.

  I swallow. “The situation is more complicated than—”

  “Bullshit! You got some from her and decided that her pussy is more important than Dad’s justice. I can’t fucking believe you.”

  Shit, Bret is pissed, which makes him almost impossible to reason with. Still, I have to try. Yeah, I admit the cynic in me still harbors niggling doubt about Bethany and wonders if I’m being played by a maestro. But I can’t admit my reservations to my brother. Innocent until proven guilty, right? Ninety-nine percent of me is not sorry about what happened last night, and I won’t let him guilt me into regretting the intimacy Bethany and I shared.

  “Stop. Think. Do you want to know what happened to Dad and the money or not? I’m not going to get whatever information she has about the criminal operation at Reed Financial by being an asshole. She may be the only person who can tell us, so don’t judge. You’re not here. You don’t know what’s happening. You don’t kn
ow her. And you don’t know what she’s been through.”

  “Whatever. I hope you can live with putting your dick above your family. Just don’t cry to me when she fucks you over, too.”

  Suddenly, I hear three beeps in my ear and scowl. The little shit hung up on me? I shouldn’t be shocked. Bret has always been a rash hothead. I wish like fuck he would think things through before he acts.

  Gritting my teeth, I shove my phone in my pocket. Now isn’t the time to reason with him. Sure, I know why he’s upset. I understand what my actions look like on the surface, but he shouldn’t judge without the facts. Once I can answer the questions we’ve all had since the day I told him Dad was gone, he’ll come around. For now, I’m going to focus on Bethany and earning her trust so she’ll tell me her secrets. No, we probably don’t have a future. That sucks because I actually like her, and we seriously had the best sex ever. But someday—soon—I’ll have to come clean with her. Hell, she doesn’t even know my real last name. And once she figures out who I am, she might even hate me.

  Unless we’re stronger before I confess… Unless the feelings between us genuinely grow and she’s willing to forgive…

  Because lying and deceit are totally the ways to persuade her not to lump you in the douchebag category.

  Okay, I’ll have to try plan B, then—once I figure out what that is.

  But what if Bret is right? that annoying voice asks me. What if she is guilty? Nope. I can’t let myself think about the fact I could be falling for the woman who contributed to my father’s demise.

  The coffee finishes brewing, and I balance it all on the tray before I head back to Bethany’s cottage. Inside, I set everything on the kitchen counter, then tiptoe to the bed.

  At my approach, she rolls over and opens her eyes.

  The sight of her is a gut punch. Her pale hair splays across the sheets. Her half-closed eyes look slumberous and sexy as hell. But the little smile curling up her lips makes me want to strip down and persuade her to repeat last night right now.