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“Oh, God!” There were plenty of aftershocks to keep me charged.
Several suspended moments ticked by, with me not quite catching my breath. Dane withdrew the vibrator and managed to jerk a tissue from its packet and set the toy on the nightstand, all with one hand. His other arm remained wrapped around my waist.
“Oh, Christ.” I could barely breathe. “Now that was nice.”
I saw his smirk in the pale moonlight. “Just nice?”
“Downright deviant?”
He laughed quietly. “Hardly.”
“Well, I will admit you’re much better at that than I am.” Yet I still ached for him. How was that possible? And what did it mean?
I’d crossed a number of personal lines this evening. Since I’d met Dane, really. I couldn’t seem to help myself. He was good at guiding me and I was hooked on following.
But similar to him needing more when he was touching me, when he was inside me, I couldn’t find a satiable medium. I literally craved more of him. So much so, my private companion for years had been reduced to an impersonal substitution for the real thing—for the only thing, I feared, would ever fulfill me. Dane.
Since I couldn’t have his cock buried deep, I clasped his hand and dragged it to the apex of my legs. I couldn’t explain the urgency of the moment, other than to say, “I need to feel you.”
His sexy growl sparked my nerve endings, instantly lighting me up like the Vegas Strip.
“You make me so damn hot,” he whispered into my hair. Two fingers plunged deep. I let out a gratified cry.
His skin, his heat, his very essence … I needed it all.
As Dane massaged my inner walls with just the right rhythm, I carefully lowered his briefs so I could curl my hand around his cock.
“Ari,” he said on a gruff sigh. “You’ll make me come.”
“That’s what I want,” I told him. “I want to feel you come in my hand, on my stomach—”
His mouth crashed over mine and he claimed it with passion and aggression. I was suddenly lost, drowning in a sea of erotic thoughts, sensations, desires.
I pumped his thick erection in my fist, moisture from the indentation in the tip of his head helping my hand to glide smoothly, with just a hint of friction. His hips bucked in time with my ministrations. All the while, his fingers inside me caressed masterfully.
When my breath caught in my throat, I had to tear my mouth from his. I was so close to falling apart again.
“You know the perfect spot,” I said, thinking of what he’d done to me in the limo, when my hands were tied behind my back.
The pads of his fingers rubbed my g-spot as though the man had the ultimate road map to my erogenous zones. He knew my body—had learned those intricate nuances so quickly.
“Dane.” I moaned, pleasure rippling through me. My foot flattened on the mattress, my hips lifted. “That’s it.” I panted. “Oh, God. Right there.”
His mouth was on my neck again. His fingers stroked expertly. I felt myself unravel.
My hand pumped faster, closing over his head and then sliding down to his base before gliding back up. His breathing was as erratic as mine. His cock pulsed against my palm. The rush of getting him so worked up mingled with the sizzling between my legs and deep in my core.
“Squeeze me tight,” he whispered. I did. He grunted. “Yeah, just like that.”
His eyes locked with mine in the shimmery slive
rs of light. I was so dazed, so hypnotized by the sensual feelings, the burning in his eyes, the intensity of the intimate moments we shared. I wasn’t at all myself. I seemed to float in a different realm, collecting all the flashes of excitement, disassociating myself from everything around me except for Dane. Vibrating from head to toe as the anticipation built between us, a near palpable sensation that enveloped us.
“Ari,” he murmured.
I knew he was as close as I was. I could feel it, home in on it. I wanted him to explode at the exact moment I did.
“Come with me,” I urged.
