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“What kind of marks?”
“Ready to see my whip?” He got perverse enjoyment from the trepidation in her gaze. “Red marks. From my lips.”
“Oh.”
He gripped her shoulder and slid his free hand under her shirt to fumble with her bra clasp. Two tries and it held fast. By three, she was laughing.
“Let me.”
“Gonna run if I take my hands off you?”
“No.” Her lips curved. “Because I want them right back there.” Oddly touched, he eased away as she dragged her top over her head. Her bra was next. Smooth caramel latte skin glowed in the lamplight, her large brown nipples puckered and infinitely arousing.
“Milk,” he said, itching to touch. “Definitely milk.”
“Sometimes they’re dark.” She cupped her hands under them in offering. “See for yourself.”
Carter dipped his head and swirled his tongue over the tight peak, spurred on by her nails weaving through his hair. He couldn’t be rough with her, though he suspected she’d be amenable. He’d waited too long, built this moment up too much.
The lightest skim of teeth brought on a long shiver, the slight roll of his thumb and forefinger elicited a muted gasp. He lifted her and laid her back on the bed, pleased to see her already working her skirt down her hips. When she was bared to him, her soft landing strip of curls already damp, dark lower lips gleaming with sensual promise, he dragged his fingers through her moisture and brought them to his lips. Only then did he think of the panties in his pocket. He tugged them out and tossed them onto his pillow.
“You won’t be needing those.”
She watched him silently, big brown eyes tracking every movement. Her lashes swept down as he drew his wet fingers into his mouth, the sooty fringe lifting when he extended his hand. She took it and sucked his fingers hard, the pull of her mouth acting as a blowtorch to his simmering lust.
In her expression, he saw everything she wanted to do to him, things she’d never admit. Delicious things he’d never dared to wish for when it came to Alana MacGregor.
But it wasn’t enough. He might be seriously infatuated, but he’d learned to deal with that emotion years ago. He needed her to accept who he was. To accept what she wanted and who she wanted it with.
He tugged his fingers free and let them wander her shapely body. Along the curve of her breast, over her flat stomach, around her cute navel. He’d seen so many bellybutton rings he’d almost forgotten how provocatively innocent untouched skin could be. Her back arched and she shuddered under his fleeting touch, thrusting her round breasts high.
His throat tightened but not nearly as much as his cock. She was incredible. More beautiful than the picture he’d kept in his nightstand for years could do justice.
When he reached her pussy, he spread her lips slowly, drinking her in with his gaze before he arrowed his tongue into her quivering flesh. A quick cry pierced the silence, cut off as if she were shocked she’d made it. He smiled and circled the swollen pearl that budded so eagerly against his mouth.
“Do you know,” he began, delighting in her frustrated half laugh, “that the clitoris is the only part of the woman’s body designed entirely for pleasure?” He flattened his tongue, bearing down until she squirmed.
“God, Nicky …”
“Never liked that name. I always thought you were trying to dismiss me.” He slid his finger inside her, rotating slowly. Her abundant liquid granted easy passage, so he added another and studied the frantic buck of her hips. “You’re not dismissing me now.”
“Want me to call you Carter?” Alana rose on her elbows and glared at him. “I’ll call you whatever you want as long as you fuck me.”
“Such a romantic.” Since he was currently finger- fucking her with the speed of a finely tuned drill, he wouldn’t quibble.
“It’s not about romance. I want your cock, not sonnets.”
“What if you get both?”
He drew his hand away from her sex and her breath hitched. Her neck bowed when his wet fingers grasped her nipple, which he followed with the slippery suction of his mouth.
“Let me explain how this is going to work.” Light streams of his breath caressed her areolas. “I’m going to make love to you my way. Slowly, thoroughly. No man’s ever paid as much attention to your body as I’m going to tonight. We have hours.” His gaze stayed direct even as his pulse kicked up enough to make him lightheaded. “More, if you’re willing to give us that. In the meantime, your body is my playground. You won’t rush me. And if I want to compose a goddamned sonnet, then I will. Got it?” She started to argue, then clamped her lips shut and nodded.
“Good.” He grinned and slid his finger back into the hot, tight channel that welcomed him so readily. “Now where was I?”
“Making me crazy.”
“Right.” He curved the digit inside her before inviting a friend. Two fingers scissored back and forth, building the pressure until she thrashed under his touch.
