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Taking hold of his ass, Haven brought her face up tight, sucking him down, keeping him deep. Nothing about her approach was shy or reserved, which made him think she’d done this before. And he didn’t fucking care one bit as long as she kept burying his head in the back of her throat.
For a long moment, she set a pace that had him fisting his hand in her hair, and then she pulled off, gasping for air and looking up at him with the most pleading expression. “Tell me what feels good to you.”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s fucking phenomenal.” He dragged his thumb over her lips, and she caught it with her teeth. He pushed it into her mouth and she immediately sucked at his flesh, her eyes making it clear how turned on she was. By pleasing him.
She took his cock deep again and got into a rhythm that alternated between fast and shallow and slow and deep. His thighs shook and his hand kept fisting and he could no longer keep his hips from pushing for more. Always more.
“Gonna come,” he rasped, tugging at her hair.
She popped free long enough to say, “I want it.” And then she took him deep and sucked him off until Dare was grasping her head and coming down her throat with a shout and a groan.
When she finally eased off of him, he pulled her up and kissed her hard, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and stealing her breath. Like she’d stolen his. “You’re fucking good at that, you know it?”
The smile that crept up her face was ridiculously cute. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Do it absolutely any time you want,” he said with a wink.
She threw her head back and laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They finally got down to getting clean. She did her thing and he did his, but in trading kisses and small touches and heated glances, it felt intimate, loaded, full of promise for something more. And Dare was down for that, because as long as the storm raged outside his house, he was keeping Haven here. In his sights, in his arms, and in his bed.
Because when the rain cleared, the time they might have together would be counted in days at best. And that was hardly enough when he’d finally found a woman he wanted for longer, for more, and maybe even for everything.
“YOU HUNGRY?” DARE asked when they were dried and dressed and downstairs again. He wasn’t sure how long any of those were going to last, given how sexy Haven looked wearing a pair of his boxers and his old Harley shirt knotted at her waist so it didn’t hang halfway down her legs.
“Actually, I’m kinda starving.” She leaned her elbows on his kitchen counter. And damn if she didn’t look perfect there, hanging out with him in his house doing a whole lot of nothing in particular.
Dare opened his wasteland of a fridge. Given how often Bunny cooked up at the clubhouse, he’d gotten into a routine of eating there with whoever showed up, or making himself the odd bowl of cold cereal here on the fly. Otherwise, his fridge was filled with beer, milk, condiments, and a package of hot dogs. “How ’bout I order a pizza?” he asked, turning to her. “You like that?”
Haven nodded. “Yeah.”
“What kind?” he asked, grabbing his cell.
“I like just about anything, so whatever you want.” Her expression was totally open and honest, but something about the words still rubbed him wrong.
“I want to know what you want, not what you’ll accept,” he said, giving her a pointed look.
“Oh. Uh. I really like pepperoni and sausage,” she said, uncertainty slipping into her gaze.
Dare leaned in for a deep, lingering kiss. “I really like when you tell me what you want.” He pulled away, arched his brow at her until she smiled and nodded, and dialed the phone. “Be here in thirty,” he said when he hung up.
“Do you use your kitchen much?” she asked, her gaze taking in the room.
He came up behind her and braced his hands on either side of her body. Leaned in and kissed the side of her neck. “Not nearly as much as I should.”
She tilted her head, opening to him. “That’s a shame,” she whispered distractedly.
“What would you make?” he asked, sucking on her earlobe.
On a soft moan, she said, “Oh, everything. Fluffy pancakes and waffles for breakfast and grilled sandwiches for lunch and hearty pastas and grilled steaks for dinner.”
He tugged the too-big neck of her shirt to the side, exposing her whole shoulder, and ran nipping bites all along the skin there. “And for dessert?”
Haven shivered and leaned into him. “Chocolate cake made with real fudge and a layer of raspberry filling with mini chocolate chips in between. I’d cover it with a buttercream icing and decorate it with big, thick shavings of chocolate.” She turned her face to his. “And peanut butter cookies, too, of course.”
