by Maya Banks
“Take my pants off, Lyric. I want you to touch me. I don’t think I’ll be able to get enough.”
She licked her lips as he lowered her hands to his waist. She shook so bad that she fumbled clumsily with the button of his fly. The sound of the zipper was loud. It broke through the heavy silence and made her flinch as she eased it all the way down.
Slowly she peeled the denim over his hips and down his legs until it gathered around his ankles. He stepped free and stood before her, the burning question at last answered.
She laughed softly and raised her gaze to Connor, a smile twisting her lips.
He arched an eyebrow. “What’s so funny? I have to tell you, laughing when you’ve got a guy down to his underwear is never a good thing.”
“I was right,” she teased.
“About?”
“You’re a boxer brief guy.”
He grinned smugly and mischief lit his eyes. “So you have been thinking about me.”
Damn. “I may have wondered. But that was it.”
“Uh-huh. Admit it, Lyric. You’ve been thinking about me every bit as much as I’ve been thinking about you.”
She hooked her fingers in the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulled him closer to her. “Maybe.”
“I got a hard-on for you the very first time we met. You and that sassy mouth of yours had me so hard, and I was desperate for you not to know.”
One corner of her mouth went up and she reached gently to caress the very noticeable bulge between his legs. His cock strained against the cotton material, a hard ridge trapped against his body.
What would he expect? Would he want her to take the lead now? He’d seemed to cede control when he’d asked her to undress him. Then she frowned. Or maybe he expected to direct her through it all. Was he in control or was she?
He tipped a finger underneath her chin and nudged it upward until once again his heated gaze bored into her. “Why the frown?”
“Who’s in control?” she blurted. “I’m not sure . . . I’m not sure what you want me to do.”
“Does it matter?” he asked lazily. “Why do either of us have to control everything? Why can’t we just enjoy each other for a while? You tell me what you like, what feels good to you. I’ll tell you what I like.”
She smiled and sent her hand seeking into his underwear until her fingers wrapped around his rigid erection. His breath caught and he went completely still.
“Does that feel good?” she asked innocently.
“It’ll feel a hell of a lot better when you get your mouth wrapped around it,” he drawled.
When she would have gone to her knees, he caught her by the elbows and hauled her up against him.
“I don’t expect you to service me before I’ve made you feel good, sweetheart.”
Then his mouth closed over hers, so hot and wicked. She melted, let herself go limp against him as he picked her up and walked her to the edge of the bed.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him down with her when he would have laid her on the mattress.
“You’re like a feast and I have no idea where to start,” he said in a low voice. “So much to savor. I don’t want to miss a single taste of your sweetness.”
“You’re lethal,” she said helplessly. “How can I possibly resist you when you say such pretty words?”
He grinned. “I think the point is that you’re not supposed to resist me.”
His mouth brushed across her shoulder and he stopped to nibble a path to the column of her neck. Then he retraced back to her shoulder and he sank his teeth into her flesh.
“Mmmm.”
“You like that?” he husked against her skin.
“Mmm-hmmm.”
He chuckled and then licked the spot where he’d bitten her. As he wandered down her body with his oh-so-delectable mouth, she wondered if she’d have a mark where he’d bitten her. The completely irrational part of her hoped so. She wanted a tangible reminder of his possession.
He dragged his open mouth down her midline, kissing and licking at intervals until he left a wet trail between her breasts to her navel.
Despite his assurances that she was beautiful no matter her size, she tensed when his tongue laved over the soft skin of her belly. She wasn’t fat but neither did she have his taut, lean belly that you could bounce a quarter off. Plus she’d gained and lost weight so many times that she sagged in certain areas.
“Relax,” he murmured as his tongue dipped into her belly button.
Then he kissed every inch of her abdomen and then lowered his mouth to her pelvis. After pressing a gentle kiss to the flesh just above the juncture of her legs, he raised his head and eased a finger over her bare folds.
“I like this,” he murmured.
She didn’t raise her head because, really, she’d never had a man do an analysis of her pussy while she was lying beneath him.
“What do you like?”
He stroked the lips of her vagina and then ran his finger over the small triangle of hair just over the hood that shielded her clitoris.
“Your wax job. I hear women talk about them, but I’ve never seen one exactly. You know, in person.”
At that she did raise her head and she arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Never?”
He shrugged. “The women I’ve been with aren’t groomed down there.”
She laughed. “You make me sound like a poodle.”
His fingers returned to her folds. He seemed to be fascinated with the smoothness because he kept stroking her over and over until she was ready to twitch right off the bed. Didn’t he realize he was making her crazy?
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Yeah, I do. It makes me feel . . . sexy.”
At that he grinned and stared up at her with approval in his eyes. “I’m glad, then. You need to be as convinced as I am of just how beautiful you are.”
He lowered his head and nuzzled softly through her folds. The tip of his tongue brushed ever so lightly over her clit and she shuddered uncontrollably.
“You taste as sweet as you feel,” he murmured.
“You know just how to get to me,” she whispered. “Words are my life. How they flow. Their meaning. Twisting and turning them and making them more beautiful. Whenever you talk to me like this, I hear it like it’s a song.”
“You don’t want me to sing,” he said in amusement.
She nudged him upward with her knees and then reached for him, wanting him over her body. She wanted him to cover her like a blanket so there wasn’t an inch of her skin untouched.
He rose over her and she clutched at his shoulders, reveling in his hard strength.
“You don’t have to sing. I hear it in your words. No one has ever said such beautiful things to me.”
“Then you’re hanging out with the wrong people.”
And then he started again. Scorching a path over her body, only this time he stopped at her breasts, lavishing attention on each of them. He coaxed her nipples to rigid peaks and then he sucked them between his teeth, one at a time, alternating until she was making incomprehensible sounds of pleasure.
His movements were like the most beautiful notes. Perfect pitch. So in tune with her body—and her soul. He stroked her like a pianist might stroke the keys of a song he’d composed just for her.
She heard the notes, the raw, exquisite beauty, as they reverberated over her skin.
She no longer even knew what she needed. She needed him. Just him. It was a stupid thought but it was all that echoed in her mind.
“Please, Connor. I need you.”
As if realizing just what the admission cost her, he looked down at her tenderly as his hand went to part her thighs. He settled one knee between them and then he reached over her body to pick up a condom she hadn’t realized was resting beside her pillow.
He gave a slight groan as he rolled the latex over his cock. “God, I’m so close to coming and I haven’t even gotten inside you.”
She shifted restlessly, hoping he got the message that she didn’t want to wait any longer. Her skin felt too tight. Pressure swelled in her core until she fidgeted. She burned.
He eased his fingers farther into her heat and she moaned. His thumb gently circled her clit just as he fitted another finger and delved into her tight passage.
“You’re not ready yet, baby,” he murmured.
Her eyes flew open. “Please, Connor.”
“Not yet. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She sighed but closed her eyes when he lowered his mouth to her breast while his fingers continued their slow exploration of her most intimate recesses.
He stroked in and out in a perfect demonstration of how his cock would stroke through her insides to the very heart of her. She arched into his touch like a cat seeking petting. A low sound of contentment poured out of her throat and she reached blindly for him as he continued his erotic assault on her senses.
Her fingers curled into his hair, running through the crisp, short hairs as she held him to her breast. She idly stroked down to his nape and followed the thickly corded muscles of his neck and shoulders.
He was a perfect specimen of a man. Long, lean and tight. Clean-cut. Mr. All-American. Which begged the question of why in the hell he was attracted to her—she was decidedly not a fresh-faced girl next door in middle-class America. That was the woman she could see Connor with. Mr. Always Do Right with Miss Sweet Apple Pie.
“You left me,” Connor murmured.
She blinked and he came sharply into focus. He was staring down at her, his gaze seeking.
“Am I doing something wrong?”
She softened at his tone. His desire to please her couldn’t be more prevalent. Fuck Miss Apple Pie. Lyric hated apple pie anyway. This man was hers at least for the next half hour, and quite frankly, she’d kick some Miss America ass if she came within spitting distance of Connor.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a long, breathless kiss.
“You’re doing everything perfect.”
CHAPTER 17
C onnor rotated over Lyric until he came to rest between her thighs, his body held up off her by his hands on either side of her head.
She was ready for him. Satiny smooth and slick with her own arousal. And in her eyes glowed a sweetness that belied her hard edge.
There was something to be said for a soft, willing woman underneath you—who looked at you like you held the answer to all the problems in the world.
Lyric without the bite was sweet indeed. It made him wonder if anyone else ever saw the woman underneath the layers she’d carefully constructed. Did anyone even care?
Wanting to taste her again, he fit his mouth to hers and licked over the seam of her lips just as he positioned himself at her entrance.
“Tell me you’re ready now, Lyric,” he strained out. “Because I can’t wait any longer.”
His body screamed at him to take her. To mark her and possess her in every primitive way there was for a man to possess a woman.
“Take me,” she whispered.
The fact that her words so perfectly echoed his thoughts made his chest tighten. Desire raged through his veins and he stilled for a moment before the urge to thrust as deeply into her as possible took over.
He eased forward, bathing the head of his cock in her silken flesh. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he fought for control.
“Connor.”
His name escaped as a whispered plea and her eyes were glazed with passion. She stared at him through half lids, her vibrant blue eyes looking drugged and unfocused.
He inched forward, pushing farther inside her. God, she was tight.
Her nails raked over his back and came to rest on his ass. She arched and pulled at the same time, trying to force him deeper. With a groan he relented and thrust hard.
It was all he could do to hang on as her sweet heat enveloped his aching erection. He was balls deep and straining to get deeper.
Her shocked gasp startled him from his single-minded goal to bury himself deeper than he’d ever buried himself in a woman.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked urgently even as he began to withdraw.
“No. No!” She pulled at him, almost fighting to get him back, arching her hips to hold on to him.
He smiled and leaned down to fuse his lips with hers. “Well okay, then.” He surged back into her and closed his eyes as intense, mindbending pleasure shattered through his groin.
His balls tightened even as they pounded against her ass. His body wasn’t his own. He had no control. And she urged him on. Taking everything he had to give. Demanding more.
Fire coiled low in his balls, clutching the base of his cock with a death grip. It built rapidly, rising like an inevitable tide.
He looked down, wanting her with him. He wouldn’t go until she’d found her satisfaction.
“Tell me what you need,” he breathed.
She feathered a hand over his cheek, a simple touch he felt all the way to his soul.
“Just you. Just you.”
But she wasn’t as far as he was and he knew it. He paused though it damn near killed him. He had to grit his teeth and breathe harshly through his nose to prevent his orgasm.
He reached for her hand and gently guided it downward. “Touch yourself. Show me how you like it.”
He shifted his body the slightest bit so she could fit her hand between them. At first she hesitated, her expression a little uncertain—and shy—but then she slid her fingers through the damp folds, her knuckles grazing through the hair at his groin.
She gave a restless moan that prompted him to pull out of her and then stroke back, long and liquid. To his surprise her fingers wandered lower and wrapped around the inch of his cock that still remained outside her body.
She caressed his length as he eased out of her. Her fingers danced across the latex, and he cursed the condom that lay between her touch and his flesh. He’d never gone bareback with a woman—not even one he was in a relationship with, because caution was too firmly ingrained. But right now he’d sell his soul to be able to get inside her skin to skin.
Finally he had to pull at her wrist and return her fingers to her own pleasure because he was a nanosecond from exploding all over her hand. At this point he’d likely blow the condom completely off.
“You first,” he rasped. “I want to watch you come apart around me. I want to feel it.”
His statement seemed to excite her because she fluttered around him. Her flesh rippled across his cock and was so snug that he never wanted to leave its stranglehold.
Seemingly emboldened by his words, she began stroking herself in tight little circles, the backs of her fingers brushing over his sensitive skin.
Wanting her closer, wanting deeper, he reached down to cup her buttocks and marveled at how she filled his hands with such delectable, plump flesh. He squeezed and molded her in his palms and then plunged harder, reveling in the sounds that whispered past her lips.
Her fingers moved faster and her legs circled his waist. They strained and undulated. They gasped. His heart raced. Faster and faster and lightning sparked. His release was like a fast-burning fuse, sizzling through his balls and up his cock.
He cursed under his breath because God, he couldn’t last.
She went rigid underneath him and bowed until her back came off the bed. He stroked harder, determined to make it so good for her. The best she’d ever had.
His mouth found her neck, and he sucked at the sensitive spot beneath her ear as her cry split the air. He was instantly bathed in liquid fire. Surrounding him, encasing his cock in the sweetest honey.
He raised his head and stared straight into her eyes. Straight into the heart of her. His hips jerked forward as if he had no control over the beast that arose within him. It was startling. So primitive that he understood why some men were considered little better than cavemen because at the moment, his only consideration was dragging Lyric off to
his cave by the hair and keeping her underneath him for as long as he had strength to make love to her.
She withdrew her hand, her body still shivering in the aftermath of her orgasm. When she cupped his face, he turned so he could suck her fingers into his mouth to taste that sweet honey.
“Now you,” she whispered.
Her words had the same effect his had on her. A violent shiver overtook him and his balls drew up and his release rushed down his cock and exploded with a force that had him gasping. Pain. Pleasure. It all blended together in a myriad of wicked sensation that he never wanted to end.
His hips were still jerking spasmodically forward when he finally lowered his body to completely blanket hers. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on hers for a long moment as his cock twitched and shuddered deep inside her. He knew he couldn’t stay there long and expect the condom to work, but he was loath to retreat from her snug warmth.
Their breaths worked hot and hard, colliding with each other as they both gasped to catch up. When he finally felt his head stop spinning, he kissed her and, with a reluctant groan, pulled himself away and rolled to the side to dispose of the condom.
When he came back to her, her eyes were glazed—with shock? She seemed at a loss and a little baffled. Vulnerability shone like a beacon, and it riled every one of his protective instincts. She’d hate it if she knew how much he could see right now. The barriers would slam down and the hard edge would return.
He climbed into the bed and pulled her into his arms, but she was already stiff and tension radiated from her in waves. In an effort to ease some of her discomfort, he pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder but he didn’t say a word, knowing that if he did, it would completely shatter what calm remained.
Instead he lay there and turned over the matter in his head. He knew it was stupid to have slept with her but at the time he accepted the inevitability of it. She was like a slow-moving drug that had taken hold of his system, insidious and unrelenting.
He didn’t have the strength—or the desire—to deny the intense chemistry between them. Even when he’d thought the worst of her, his body had been achingly aware of every part of her.