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He wouldn’t say the three words that would frighten her, but he placed his mouth next to her ear and told her the rest of the truth, what she needed to hear. “I want all of you, Summers.” He felt her stiffen beneath him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never hurt you or make you ashamed to have been with me. You can trust me. I have no secrets from you.”
He closed his eyes, feeling the frantic beat of her heart against his and listening for her breathing to calm enough that he could be sure she heard him. He didn’t lift up and gaze into her eyes, because he didn’t want to pressure her any more than he already had. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and gently lowered her hands from above her head, careful to avoid her gaze. She needed a modicum of control even when she was giving it up. She needed to make the next move.
DYLAN HAD LONG ago shattered any armor Tiffany had around her heart, but what he was asking for now was even bigger. Making love with him was intense and glorious and hot as hell, but she’d never been able to relinquish complete control with anyone. It wasn’t in her. She wasn’t even sure her body would obey the command, but she wanted to try. For Dylan, she’d do anything. She lifted shaky hands above her head and curled her fingers around the smooth wooden slats again.
His smile told how deeply her handing over the reins had touched him, and when he lowered his mouth to hers, she drank in the sweetness of his kiss. He lingered on her mouth, placing feathery kisses over her lips, and whispering sweet words of encouragement that made her insides burn and ache for more.
He rose onto his knees between her legs. Heat simmered beneath her skin at the sight of him watching her. His chest rose with each lustful breath. Her eyes followed the dark trail of chest chair down the center of his abs to his long, eager cock, reaching beyond his belly button. Her thighs instinctively pressed against his legs. His eyes drifted upward, burning a path from her sex, to her breasts, and lingered on her mouth.
“I love your mouth,” he whispered. His hands hung tensely by his sides, his fingers curling, his biceps flexing. It was as if he was savoring every second of his visual feast. Those dark eyes drifted lower again, lingering on her breasts, and a stroke of pleasure whipped through her.
He licked his lips, the air pulsing with anticipation, and when his gaze followed her belly down to her sex, desire surged through her. She bit her lower lip to keep from making a sound.
He sank back on his heels and ran his fingers lightly along the outside of her legs. “Are you okay, babe?”
Her body was humming, and when she opened her mouth to respond, all that came out was a shaky breath. He splayed his hands over her thighs, spreading them wider. Her thighs were wet, and as he came down over her, he rubbed his hard length along her wetness and brought his mouth to hers, kissing her tauntingly softly, then brushed his lips over hers.
“Still with me?”
She nodded. “I want to kiss you.”
“Then we’ll have to wait to do that,” he said with more control than tenderness. Moving over her body, he straddled her waist and brought his mouth to her wrists. His chest moved beside her face, bringing his masculine scent and the scent of sex with it. His tongue slicked over the inside of first one wrist, then the other. She tightened her fingers around the headboard, needing more of him so desperately she lifted her head and flicked her tongue over his nipple.
He groaned and lowered his chest, allowing her to do it again. She sucked and teased ravenously, wanting so much more, but she’d take what she could get. He made a low, growling sound of appreciation in the back of his throat, and she increased her efforts, sucking and licking and trying to move to his other nipple. But he shifted, slicking his tongue down the underside of her arm, then sucking on the crook of her elbow. Her hips rose off the mattress with the electric shock of heat it sent between her legs.
“Dylan,” she panted out. “I want more of you.”
In the blink of an eye he claimed her mouth, kissing her hard and sending her senses reeling. She clung so tightly to the wood, she shifted up on the mattress, and just as quickly, he released her mouth. Before she could catch her breath, he was between her legs, eating at her pussy, fucking her with his tongue, and holding her legs open, rousing passion she didn’t know she possessed. Noises streamed uncontrollably from her lips. She should be embarrassed, lying open to him,forhim, giving herself over like this, but she wasn’t. She felt loved and whole and in complete control because this washerdecision. She was giving herself to Dylan; he wasn’t demanding or taking. She wanted this. She wanted him. All of him. And this glorious, tantalizing torture blew her away. Her limbs shook, and desire radiated outward from her chest, from between her legs, where she throbbed, swollen and wet.
She tried to rise off the mattress but his grip was too tight, and when he spread his hands over her thighs, using his thumb to tease her while his tongue gently massaged her sex, her consciousness reeled. And with one hard lick, she exploded in a sea of pleasure.
Her body went limp against the mattress, and then Dylan’s mouth was on hers, and she tasted her arousal and his heady, dark, desire. She was shaking all over, and when he unfurled her fingers from the wood, they ached. He gathered her against him, cradling her body as he caressed her back and ran his fingers soothingly through her hair. Then he massaged her arms, her wrists, her fingers.
“You’re so beautiful, Summers,” he whispered against her cheek.
“More,” she whispered in a trembling breath.
He tipped up her chin and kissed her deeply, causing waves of ecstasy to consume her. And then he laid her on her belly with her arms by her sides, and he lavished her with kisses, leaving no speck of skin unloved. When he lifted her hips and ran his tongue along her ass, she let her chest fall to the mattress, succumbing to the pure and explosive pleasures he unleashed. His fingers probed her sex and his tongue probed her ass in a dizzying rhythm, and she wondered if a person could pass out from sheer bliss. He could have used her relinquishing of control for his own gratification, but he was solely focused on her.
When his hot, hard chest met her back and he whispered, “Still with me, babe?” she’d come so many times she could barely move, but she managed to beg for more.
He angled his hips and nudged his cock between her cheeks. He could have taken her from behind, and she would have willingly given him every inch of herself. But he continued to be the intense, passionate, caring lover she trusted, and she knew he would never go there without first seeking her approval. When he pushed his arms beneath her, holding her across her chest with one arm, and found her sweet spot with the other, she drowned in a torrent of elicit, blissful sensations. Her senses careened as the orgasm throbbed on and on, and when it finally eased, he cupped her breasts and sucked on the back of her neck. The coarse hair at the base of his cock rubbed against her ass with every thrust of his hips, and when he squeezed her nipple, she detonated again. Only then did he roll her onto her back, take her into his arms, and make love to her as he gazed into her eyes. He took his time, moving slowly and carefully, angling his hips in all the right ways to make her lose herself again and again. She was lost in the love in his eyes, and when she reached up and drew his mouth to hers, she felt, in every inch of their connected bodies, how veryrightthey were together.
She lay safe and warm in Dylan’s arms, listening to the even cadence of his breathing, and she knew deep in her soul the ghosts of her past were gone. They were no match for the connection they shared.
“Dylan,” she whispered.
“Yeah, babe?”
“I want more of you in my life, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
LATER THAT MORNING Tiffany paced the balcony with her phone pressed to her ear. Dylan set down next week’s staff schedule he was working on and admired her curvy figure in her skinny jeans and blousy blue top. Her beautiful blond waves tumbled over her shoulders. He didn’t need to ask to know she was on the phone with the wife or mother of one of her clients. He’d admired her so often he’d memorized her mannerisms, which were softer and more graceful when she spoke with the female members of her clients’ families. She laughed easier, smiled more often, and even her eyes were brighter, whereas when she dealt with clients, male or female, she stood taller, looked shrewder. And when she was with Dylan she was an intoxicating mix of keen and sassy, warm and loving, and her eyes took on a sheen of sensuality that was meant only for him.
He was a hell of a lucky man.
She stopped pacing and rested one hand on her hip, allowing him to study her in profile. He loved her delicate features and that adorable dimple in the center of her chin. She was gorgeous, but she clearly worked hard to keep her looks from affecting her business dealings. As Dylan watched her, he thought about how seamlessly she transitioned between sweet, compassionate friend and keen businesswoman. Did that take a toll on her, feeling as though she had to tuck away her beauty in order to succeed in the male-dominated sports industry? That was probably another reason it was so difficult for her to leave those delineations behind and justbeherself. And, he realized for the first time, perhaps that also played into why she hadn’t been sure what type of woman she was when they first met. She’d done such a good job of protecting herself from being hurt she’d lost track of the more fragile elements—and together they’d found them. Even with all she’d been through, there was nothing fake about Tiffany Winters—the sports agentorthe woman. She cared deeply about her clients, and Dylan knew she cared deeply about him.
