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How could you speak when someone was stealing your breath? It was a silver yin and yang symbolwith a diamond for the point of light in dark and vice versa.
Who gave it to you?
She shuddered as two fingers pinched the nipple. Her thighs quivered, her hips pushing back into that solid leg. What if I said he was a sexy bad boy biker guy with six pack abs and a dragon tattoo on his biceps? A re you the jealous type?
Nudging her head to the side, he put his lips on her accelerating pulse, right between his fingers. What do you think?
I think you get underestimated in the dangerous bad boy department. She gave a half laugh, half gasp. You dont have to get jealous. You make damn sure a girl has zero desire to be with anyone but you. Its a different form of possessiveness, more MachMachiavellian than A ttila the Hun. She had to take a deep breath to get through a suddenly far too complex word, but that reaction increased the pressure of her breast against his hand, embellishing the squeezing, pleasurable sensation. Her nipple was stabbing his palm and she wanted to push it against him harder.
Hmm. Did a man give it to you?
No. I bought it for myself. Rickthat was his nametook me to the bluegrass festivalwhere the vendor was. He spent all his money on his bike. He wasn-nineteen. Youre really making it hard totalk.
Good. Hed continued down the side of her throat with that devastating hand on her cheek, his fingers tracing her nose, gliding over her lashes.
It made her eyes close, then her teeth bit down on her lip as he nipped and suckled on her throat in a way that had her body moving restlessly. Heat and wetness grew between her legs, making her panties damp, making her want him to touch her there, feel it too.
She didnt have the navel piercing anymore because Marguerites father had ripped the barbell loose. His face had been close, stark, horror-movie close, saliva spraying her as he screamed. This is what a dirty whore wears. A slut. Ive always been with you. I know what you became. What you are.
Brendans hands slid away, but only to turn her around, gently push her back against the closet door. Her fingers slipped out of his pocket regretfully, grazed his hip as he completed that turn. Closing his hands over hers, he held them out in the air to either side of them, letting them float erratically up and down, a drift of movement that helped steady what had suddenly become unsteady to her.
Keeping his gray-green eyes on hers, he eased down to one knee, flanking her with the other bent one as he let go of one of her hands, then the other, to place his hands on her hips. Leaning forward, he put his mouth on her navel through the thin fabric between them and drove that terrible memory away, the shame that went with it.
The moist heat of his breath dampened the area. That and the pressure of his mouth made her nerves respond, perhaps even more violently than if it had been flesh on flesh, no barrier between them. The deprivation somehow heightened her reaction.
Can you Her voice was a cautious plea in the full dark, because shed closed her eyes, one hand restlessly kneading his shoulder while the other found his hair
, gripped.
What, beloved?
Beloved. Never would she have thought a guy could use such an old-fashioned word and make it sound like that, like it was supposed to sound.
A vow of adoration in one, three-syllable utterance.
But then Brendan wasnt a guy, was he? Shed dated guys, like Rick. A lot of them. Brendan was a man, everything that word should mean. Just like the word beloved, it had a rich significance to it that was lost unless everything became really still, like this.
If I needwant you tocan you
She shouldnt think about this so much, or she was going to mess herself up, but what if he couldnt do what she wanted? What she thought she understood about tonight, everything shed seen, said it wasnt fair to ask this. But it wasnt anger or that dark ugliness motivating her now, and hed said hed give her anything. A nything.
A s she waffled over it, he stood. A s he got up, his body was so close it dragged along hers, his jeans, the shirt he wore, catching the thin fabric of her dress, pulling it up with the motion of his body so it was gathered between them, her hem rucked up and trapped between their thighs.
Take me over. She flicked her attention doubtfully up to his face, wanting too much, too badly, to give herself a chance to be sensitive or debate the wisdom.
He gazed at her. Then, slowly, his lips curved to show his teeth. No question about it. It was a dangerous, bad-boy smile.
Chapter Fourteen
Closing his hands over both of hers, he brought her wrists up against the door, over her head, stealing her breath. Then he brought his head down so his lips hovered over hers, his eyes so close.
Chloe. A s her pulse slammed against those points in her wrist, held firmly beneath his hands, his breath caressed her face.
Yeah. Her throat had gone dry, thick. His thigh slid forward, pressed against her mons, eliciting a quiet gasp, then lower, insinuating between her legs so she had to adjust her stance over him. The moment she did, he brought his knee up, an insistent, searing pressure against the thin panties she wore. The folds of her dress whispered over the denim-clad leg.
Kiss me the way you want me to fuck you. Show me with your mouth and tongue, with your desire, how hard you want me to nail you against this wall.
Holy God. She let go of thought, guilt or consequences and surged up against his hold, hitting his mouth as if fueled by a firelake of pheromones. His grip tightened, a resistant counterpoint, and she growled into his mouth, scraping her teeth over his tongue, a tongue clever enough to be tangling with hers as she thrust savagely into his mouth, not thinking about finesse or seduction, just a desire to be straight out, Victorian romance-novel ravished. Taken over and taken hard. Pummeled, owned, so shed know he was completely hers. A possession to seal the deal between them. She needed his response to her eager desire to know hed give her anything of himself.
