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“I want you,” she whispered. “All night, John. Take me. Take me until I know nothing but your touch, know nothing but the pleasure you can give me. Don’t leave me alone.”
She slid her fingers from the pants, the tips wet, glistening with her juices, and moved them to touch her lips, to taste herself.
He caught her hand before the tips touched the curves, his breathing suddenly hard as he pulled them to his mouth instead and tasted her, sucked her fingers between his lips and raked the sensitive tips with his tongue.
Bailey moaned. She couldn’t stop the sound, still rough from her tears, rasping with the pain that burned inside her and the hunger rising to scorch her.
“What the hell do you do to me?” he asked as her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt and fought to undo them quickly. When the tiny disks slipped through her fingers, she gripped the edges of his shirt and jerked them apart, sending the buttons flying.
“The same thing you do to me, perhaps?” she panted.
She could forget the world in his arms. She did it every time he touched her. She needed to do it now. She needed the world and the guilt to recede, to evaporate for just a little while.
She watched his jaw clench as his hands moved to the waist of her pants and with a smooth shift of muscle in his shoulders, jerked the material over her hips and to her knees.
His hands weren’t rough, but they were insistent, dominant. This was what she needed. That blazing hunger that burned inside him. She needed all of it, every desire that had filled his imagination as well as hers.
“I used to dream,” she whispered as she stared into his hungry eyes, her hands going to the belt that cinched the waist of his pants. “When I was alone.” When she had thought he was gone. “When it was dark. I would touch myself, and imagine you. You would forget yourself with me. You would touch me like you were never going to touch me again. You took me as though it were the last time you would ever have the chance.”
The belt came loose and she sucked in a hard breath as his hand suddenly cupped between her thighs, covering the swollen, sensitive flesh of her pussy while his upper palm rasped against the engorged bud of her clit.
“What did I do to you?” His voice was dark, dangerously sexy. It whispered of rain-swept nights and fierce passionate storms.
She pulled the clasp of his pants loose, lowered the zipper.
“Your lips went to my nipples,” she breathed out roughly. “You sucked me, hard. Your teeth and tongue rasped them.”
Her head fell back as a cry tore from her throat. His lips moved to a nipple, covered it. He tugged at it with his teeth, lashed it with his tongue, then sucked her in deep as she pushed his pants over his hips, freeing the thick, fierce length of his cock.
She loved him, loved his touch, his kiss, loved the heavy shaft that she knew brought the edge of pleasure and pain so destructive to her senses.
Her fingers tried to wrap around the heavy flesh, but they wouldn’t reach. She contented herself with stroking it, feeling the dampness that coated the wide crest and the fierce throb that pounded through the heavy veins.
Her other hand gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, held him to her breast. She gloried in the heated feast he was making of her flesh.
He wasn’t holding back. So many times she had felt him holding back, taking her gently when he needed to take her harder. Suppressing his own needs for what he thought were hers.
His teeth tugged at her nipple again before releasing it and moving to the other. Bailey whimpered at the incredible sensations that tore through her. It was like strokes of lightning tearing from her nipple to her clit, clenching her womb. The burning sensations overwhelmed her and tore another cry from her lips as her head dipped, her teeth moving to his shoulder to clench at the tight flesh there.
A hard male groan echoed from his chest and he pulled back, one hand clenching at the back of her head, as her lips moved lower, her teeth rasping against his flesh, nipping, taking heated, stinging tastes of his skin while he used his fingers to lead her down his body.
“D’you think you’re the only one who dreamed?” His voice was almost a snarl above her, the lightest flavor of an accent coming through as he shed his pants and knelt fully on the bed before her. “Come on, love, give me what I need. Let me watch you take me, Bailey. Suck my cock, baby.”
She moaned as her lips reached the wide, glistening crest. Her tongue licked over it as she teased him, evading the caress she could feel he sought.
He wanted in her mouth. She wanted him there. But she wasn’t about to give in to him so easily. Bent before him, she braced one hand on the mattress and raked down his thigh with the nails of the other.
She felt him shudder and felt the juices flowing from her sex at the knowledge that she could affect him like this. That he needed her as much as she needed him.
She had never felt him like this, never felt that hunger clawing so close to the surface of his lust before. It was there in the tight tension of his body, the steady pressure of his hand at her hair, holding her in place as his cock nudged insistently at her lips.
She licked over the demanding crest again, blew a rough breath of air over it, and tempted him to take more, to demand more from her.
“Little tease,” he growled.
Holding her head still, he pressed his cock more firmly against her lips, parting them, pressing inside as she felt flames lance over her nerve endings.
She could feel his fingers tight in her hair, tugging at the tender roots just enough to send fresh flares of ecstatic sensation tearing through her.
