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He saw something he didn’t want to see. It went beyond a sensual awareness or hunger for him. It went beyond what he had wanted to see in the past.
“You’re jealous,” he accused her softly, the truth slapping him in the face. “You think you’re in love with me? Have you lost your mind, Sierra?”
Incredulity echoed in his voice even as it pulsed through his mind. He hadn’t seen it before. Why hadn’t he seen that emotion in her eyes before?
“I did that a long time ago. ” Her voice was husky now, her eyes glittering with dampness. With tears. Fuck, she was not going to cry on him.
“Don’t you dare cry. ” He moved to her, jerking her against him.
Big mistake, but there she was, against him. So fucking young and too damned tiny. And he was hungry for her. That hunger had pulsed inside him for too long, burned in his gut and tormented him. He didn’t want this, not with Sierra. With the only person in his life that he had counted on as a friend.
“I didn’t want this with you,” he snarled down at her. She was too soft for what he wanted and he knew it. Too vulnerable, even if she was experienced enough for it. But he was drunk. He was hard for her. And he’d fought it for too damned long.
“Why?” The vulnerability in that single word struck at his heart. As though he had just broken all her dreams, all her hopes. “Why not me, John?”
“Because damn you, I didn’t want to hurt you. ”
He didn’t give her a chance to retort. His head lowered, his lips taking hers quickly, parting the lush curves as he slid one hand into the riotous curls that surrounded her face and gripped the soft strands to hold her to him.
The silken curls wrapped around his fingers as though hugging him to her. Like living strands of heat, they caressed his flesh, stroked it.
The taste of her, the adrenaline and hunger coursing through his veins, only made him drunker. Drunk on her. He’d known touching her would be hazardous, and how right he had been.
Growling at the surge of lust tearing through him, he dropped the empty glass to the floor and gripped the slender strap of her dress to drag it over her arm. It would only go so far. He couldn’t find the zipper. It wasn’t at her back. He didn’t want to look for it.
The sound of the material rending didn’t faze him; what it did do was give him entrance to the bodice of her dress and the swollen curves of her breasts, the tight, hard nipples topping them.
“John?” Pleasure and confusion filled her voice now. “Oh, God, John, what are you doing?”
What the hell did she think he was doing? Giving them both what they were hungering for.
His lips slid down her neck, moving for those tight little berries. The feel of them against his tongue sent a groan tearing from his chest.
Sucking one into his mouth, he laved it with his tongue and loved it with his mouth as he lowered his hand again, this time to his trousers.
If he didn’t release his cock, he was going to go insane. It pressed against the zipper of his pants, demanding to be set free. Like a ravenous beast, it throbbed and pulsed at the confinement, silently demanding attention.
Demanding her mouth, her fingers, the lush, hot folds of her wet pussy. He groaned at the thought of fucking her. Of pumping inside her, deep, hard, feeling the snug tissue rippling over his dick.
As he released her nipple, his lips pulled back.
His hand tightened in her hair as his gaze centered on her lips and he pressed her downward.
God, he wanted her mouth on his dick. Her tongue licking over the bulbous crest, her lips covering it, her mouth sucking him inside.
He wanted it with a hunger he had never wanted anything with before. He’d lost all reason, all logic. Objectivity was simply a thing of the past. Nothing existed now but getting his cock in her mouth.
Sierra lost her breath at the silent demand in his face, his gaze, as he tugged her lower. She knew what he wanted. With one hand he gripped her fingers and dragged them to the heavy length of his cock as it speared from the opening of his trousers. Long, thick, the heavy crest dark and flushed. It throbbed, glistened with dampness, and caused her mouth to water at the thought of the taste of him. Her fingers wouldn’t wrap around the width of the pulsing flesh, like silk over iron, it heated her palm and made her ache for the feel of it.
She could feel her pussy growing wetter, hotter. The ache between her thighs, her hardened clit, pulsed with the need for touch in ways it had never done before.
“I’ve dreamed of you sucking my dick,” he groaned as she went slowly to her knees in front of him. “Nights of it, Sierra. So many nights spent sweating at the thought of having you. ”
He had no idea what he was doing to her—he couldn’t. He had no clue she had never done this before; all he had were the rumors he believed of her wild ways. Rumors she knew he believed because he teased her over it. Always gently, always with affection but always with a glimmer of some darker emotion in his eyes.
He believed them though. How surprised would he be when he learned she was a virgin?
Kneeling in front of him, her fingers caressing his hard flesh, she swallowed tightly, fighting to keep her mind clear enough to please him. She wanted to go hungry on him though. She wanted to lose the overwhelming need to simply devour him.
