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between her nipple and her clit.
Oh…wow. This guy was good.
He moved his mouth to her other nipple, and let his teeth gently scrape her flesh. The connection between her nipple and parts south only increased. She shifted restlessly. So he wasn’t just good, but really good.
Then he shocked her with a long, strong sucking of the nipple. She didn’t want to respond to Thorn; he was a stranger in the dark, sweetly tormenting her for information she didn’t have. She had nothing to give him, either in 411 or in orgasm. But logic wasn’t stopping her body from arching to give more of herself and get closer to this man.
He lifted his hand from her sex and wrapped his left arm around her, securing his strapping forearm in the arch of her back to keep her lifted to his mouth. The hot, bare flesh of his chest and abdomen licked fire across the skin of her torso. Being closer to him was somehow more exciting than having his fingers on her clit. It felt more…personal. He felt more like a lover. A dangerous sensation, but Thorn was so solid all around her. Unlike all the guys in high school, his touch told her he was committed to giving her orgasm, not getting a ten-minute lay at a drunken party.
When he lifted his mouth from her nipple and moved it up her body, he nuzzled her neck, his hot breaths skittering across her sensitive skin. Goose pimples broke out. He nipped at her lobe and she gasped, but he quickly swallowed that sound with a demanding kiss.
He drove deep past her lips, sweeping inside as if he couldn’t wait another minute to taste all of her mouth. Immediately, he proved that he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol, unlike the guys in her past. All she tasted was spicy, aroused male.
Brenna didn’t have to ask what he wanted, his desire to conquer her was all there in his groan, in his kiss. He challenged her with every thrust of his tongue, every frenzied sweep of his lips over hers. He was like a race car, built for speed and flash. If she let this go on, he’d dominate and do whatever necessary to ensure her compliance. Oh damn. The thought aroused her.
No, no, no!
He’d broken into Curtis’ bungalow either to coerce information out of her or get laid. Neither motives were particularly sterling. She needed to tell him to get lost, go to hell and never come back.
Then he climbed up on the bed, between her legs, tore his vest off, and with a whispered, “Fuck, yeah,” leaned over her body.
He fit his mouth right over her sex, his tongue swiping across her clit, providing maximum devastation.
Her cry filled the room as he swooped in for seconds, then thirds, then got really comfortable, as if he planned to stay for a while.
Without thinking, Brenna tried to raise her hands to tangle in that long golden mane. The cuffs stopped her short.
“Feel those cuffs,” he whispered against her slick flesh. “I’ve got you just where I need you. God, you taste sweet. And those cuffs are going to keep you there until I’ve tasted every drop of cream this sweet pussy has to offer.”
“This is insane.” Her voice shook both with lingering fear and rising passion.
“This is hot.”
He pushed her thighs a little wider, urging her to bend her knees and flare them out. The ties around her ankles stopped her eventually, but he opened her enough to dive deeper into her…and make her feel even more vulnerable than before.
Thorn didn’t waste time getting back down to it. He struck quick and fast, with destructive results. Her resistance began to melt under the onslaught of his determined mouth. A swipe of his tongue before he sucked her whole clit into his mouth. Then—oh, God—he plunged a pair of fingers into her.
Her hips lifted, and she offered herself to him like a sacrifice.
Without hesitation, he took it.
The burn between her legs shimmered and grew, streaking up her belly, down her thighs. She began to tremble. And Thorn showed no mercy—and no sign of letting up anytime soon.
But eventually he would let up. He would leave her. Every man did. Then…what? She would have given a part of herself to a man who didn’t know her, wouldn’t be there for her in the future. Did he even know her name? Could she pick him out in a crowd?
The thoughts ripped through her, leaving ugly shock in their wake. She was naked with and responding to a man who knew absolutely nothing about her and cared even less.
The fact she couldn’t feel him anywhere on her body except between the legs all but shouted that she was just a pussy to him. She’d almost been more aroused by feeling his bare chest against hers, heart to heart, his mouth demanding a response from her. Without that…well, his touch felt more like a sensual attack than a shared pleasure.
Brenna sank back to the mattress, tensing, doing everything to close her legs against his determined mouth.
Thorn lifted his head to glare at her. “What the hell? Relax.”
She shook her head. “I don’t relax with men.”
He quirked a golden brow. “With women?”
“Oh my…no!”
“Just checking. You one of those women who needs cock to get off?” He sat up and unsnapped the waistband of his leather pants. Then he reached for the zipper.
“Stop! I’m not the kind of woman to get off for a total stranger. Can we have a little light here? The dark is too…intimate, and I barely know you.”
“I had my mouth on your pussy. If that’s not getting to know you, what is?”
“A hit and run.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, then reached across her body to the lamp on the nightstand. Quickly, he flicked it on then leaned over her body again.
Brenna took one look, and sucked in a stunned breath. Gorgeous, almost exotic in a Norse kind of way. He looked like she imagined a Scandinavian god would—but with leather and tats. Sun-kissed skin only accentuated the harsh slashes of cheekbone dominating each side of his face. And his ice-blue eyes left her speechless. Beautiful…and emotionally lifeless. He could be a seducer or a killer without much deliberation or remorse.
She began to shake.
“I’m sure you can find plenty of women who get into anonymous sex. I’m not one of them. I swear I’ve told you everything I know about Curtis Lawton. I don’t know him well. I’ve seen him a handful of times in my whole life,” she said truthfully. “Just…go.”
Thorn said nothing for long moment. But those stunning eyes, they told her he was thinking hard and fast. She suspected very little got past this man.
“Curtis fuck you?”
“No. Never.”
He paused again, then finally said, “You frigid?”
Brenna winced. God, she hated that word. It implied that a woman was somehow irreparably broken.
Well, aren’t you?
“That’s none of your business.”
He stabbed his fists on his hips. “Since I’m the man in bed with you, baby, I beg to differ.”
“My name is not baby!” Brenna bucked against her bonds. “Or honey or babe or—”
“Whatever. Does it matter? It’s just a figure to speech.”
