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“Oh, fuck,” she gasped.
When he sucked, her hand gave up its hold on him and went to his head to pull him tighter to her. Now he was the one chuckling, feeling pure joy at the soft sounds that vibrated through her throat as he worked her nipple with his tongue. But he still wrapped his fingers into hers and moved her hand back down to his cock.
“Yes,” she said, stroking him again, her left hand still clutching his head. “Yes,” she gasped when he pressed his teeth into her.
Her fingers fumbled, leaving him for a moment, and then he realized she was sliding his zipper down.
Oh, God. He needed that so much. Their current state of undress was nothing a quick flick of his hand couldn’t correct, but if it proceeded any further, they wouldn’t have time to recover at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Her hand would feel so good, though. Squeezing him. Pumping him. And they probably wouldn’t get caught. Unless one of her friends needed to use the bathroom. Or wanted a drink of water. Or remembered she’d left her purse by the table.
Isabelle’s fingertips slid along his open zipper, stroking him through just his underwear now. His hips pushed toward the feeling. She hummed her pleasure. His cock throbbed.
And Tom did the impossible. He took her hand off his dick and raised it back up to his neck.
“Tom,” she whispered.
“We can’t,” he growled against her wet nipple. “Not here.”
“My bedroom,” she urged.
That hadn’t been what he’d meant. He’d meant not here in her house tonight, with people only a few feet away, but now that she’d mentioned her bedroom, it seemed absurd to say no. Cruel and stupid and absurd.
He shook his head, but then he sat back and got a look at her, and she was stunning. Eyes dark with lust. Cheeks flushed. Lips parted to let her breath free. And her top pushed to one side to expose part of one breast, her nipple wet and tight and wanting.
“Your bedroom,” he said, and he was lost.
* * *
ISABELLE LIKED THE way he looked when he was aroused. There was none of the helpful law-enforcement officer left in his expression. He looked dangerous and beautiful.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said as she hit the button lock on her bedroom door. But when she whipped her top off, he started unbuttoning his shirt.
“We’ll be quiet,” she assured him.
He nodded, but still looked a little troubled as he reached the third button. S
he stopped him with a hand on his wrist. Even though the motion seemed to pain him, he nodded and dropped his hands. Silly boy. He thought she was telling him to stop, but she only wanted to do it herself.
His lips parted when she reached for the next button of his shirt, as if he meant to say something, but his objection died when she slipped the button free and smoothed her hands down to the next one. He stayed silent and watched as she tugged the tail of his shirt from his pants and finished unbuttoning.
His flat stomach was the first thing she saw when she parted the cotton. Then the sprinkling of hair over his chest. Then the muscles of his pecs and his flat nipples, and oh, she wanted to touch all of it. She pushed the shirt all the way down his arms and pressed her mouth to his shoulder.
She tasted his skin, licked it, put her teeth to the taut muscle. His hands were at her back, and she felt her bra loosen and let it fall to the floor.
Not bothering to turn off the light, she backed toward the bed, pulling him along with her. She wanted to see him. Wanted to be seen. No hiding behind darkness tonight. If she had to be quiet, she didn’t want to be blind.
Under her fingers, his belt slipped free with a satisfying sound. His hands hovered for a minute, as if he were unused to giving up control, but in the end, he stood with his hands at his sides, letting her undress him. Watching. So she took her time, smoothing her hands down his belly, feeling the muscles jump at her touch.
She sat down on her bed, and now her mouth was even with his navel. She kissed his stomach, letting him feel the heat of her tongue as she reached for the button of his pants.
When she inhaled, the scent of his skin filled her. It was all she could taste and smell. She liked being filled with him, so she breathed in again and lowered the zipper he’d so hurriedly pulled up only minutes before. She tugged down his briefs, and then he was free. And big. And hard. Now the scent of him was stronger, and her mouth watered, some animal part of her let loose as sure as she’d freed his cock.
When she wrapped her fist around him, he grunted as if he were shocked. And God, he felt nice. Thick and solid. His skin sliding over his shaft as she stroked him. She wanted that inside her. Needed it.
“Jesus, Isabelle,” he murmured. “That feels so good.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, not taking her eyes off him. His skin was dark against her hand, the head of his cock flushed with blood. She stroked him, watching as his thighs grew tense, as his hips thrust forward. When she squeezed more firmly, a clear drop of fluid gathered at the tip. When she smeared it with her thumb, Tom hissed.
