Chapter Eleven
This was a bad idea. The worst. He’d already hurt more women than he could count, every damned cut he’d given them slicing un-healable scars into his own soul. Hurting Darya, dealing the inevitable blow that always came when lines were crossed, would kill what little good was left in him.
But he still couldn’t pull his hand away. Her heart pounded beneath his palm. Fast, yes, but strong and steady. Unable to help himself, he spread his fingers wider and skimmed the soft inner swell of her breast with his thumb.
She sucked in a shaky breath and arched into the touch, her eyelids slipping closed. “You want this as much as I do. You feel it.”
Hell yes, he felt it. Had done absolutely nothing but rerun a host of fantasies since the day she’d walked into his office, a fact that made dialing up anyone else for relief and a shot at quality sleep unpalatable.
The smart thing to do was walk away. Get his ass on his bike and find someone, anyone else but her, to take the edge off. He braced himself for the disconnect, an act he was pretty damned sure was going to sting as much as a severed hand.
Her eyes opened, the pure cloudless blue nearly consumed by her dilated pupils. “Please.” A whisper, thick with need, spoken with perfect soft pink lips. Exactly what he wanted to hear when he sunk into her wet heat.
The image popped all too vividly in his head. Darya splayed out on her bed, those creamy thighs of hers spread wide while she took his cock.
Fuck.
He fisted his hand in her shirt, yanked her to him and claimed her mouth, forcing her lips apart with his own and slicking his tongue inside. He moaned into her mouth, palming the back of her head to hold her immobile and deepening the kiss. Sweet baby Jesus, she tasted good. Honey sweet and dangerously addictive. A teaser course guaranteed to wind him up and amp his thirst until he finagled his mouth between her thighs.
She jerked his T-shirt up and out of the way so her hands had unhindered room to work.
And work they did. Smoothing along his skin in confident, tempting strokes. This was a woman who knew what she wanted and went for it, giving as good as she got along the way. A total fucking turn-on for a man like him, but also a bullet train to getting him off.
He captured her hands, pinned them behind her and backed her toward the wall.
She wiggled and tried to yank free of his grip, groaning against his mouth, “Let me touch you.”
Her shoulders met wall and he ground his pelvis against hers. “Later.” He nipped her chin and licked and sucked his way down the column of her neck.
“Not later.” Breathy and edgy as though she wanted to fight but couldn’t quite muster the strength. She tilted her neck to give him better room to work. “Now.”
“You’ll get your turn.” He gave into one of many impulses that had ridden him all night, cupped one breast and squeezed. “But I’m a greedy bastard so I’m taking mine first.”
Her head dropped back against the wall and her back bowed. “Knox.” A plea. And damned if his name slipping past her lips like that didn’t turn his dick from humdrum concrete to the fucking Rock of Gibraltar. Man, he was so screwed. She wasn’t even naked yet and he was primed to blow.
He rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb, and a delicate tremor moved through her. Like the carnal contact had jump-started a dormant passion. If she was this responsive with this many layers of clothes between them, he couldn’t wait to get his tongue on her clit. “Look at me.”
Slowly, she opened her eyes. Her hips rocked against his, each undulation matching the back-and-forth tug he gave the hard bud between his fingers.
The words that sat on his tongue stung, but not saying them wasn’t an option. Taking this step was already fifty kinds of stupid. No way was he not giving her one last out. “You get what this is?”
“Sex.” Her voice was the living embodiment of the word she’d spoken, the tail end of it humming with a pleasure soaked hiss. “Good, hard, sweaty sex.”
Right. Fucking. Answer.
He jerked her away from the wall, yanked her T-shirt up and over her head and crushed her against him, devouring her mouth as he backed her toward the bed. One quick pinch of his fingers and her bra snicked open. He’d barely curled his fingers around the silky black straps to pull them free, when her legs hit the edge of the bed and she tumbled onto the bloodred comforter.
Christ, what a sight. All damned night, she’d drawn men’s attention. Hell, he’d had a hard time keeping his own dick from saluting every time she’d so much as looked at him. But seeing her now, her creamy skin and white-blonde hair against those decadent sheets and the way her tits jiggled on impact, it’d take five lifetimes before he got that image out of his head.
She pushed herself up on her elbows and cocked one knee as though she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the feature presentation she’d found herself in. “You’re staring.”
“Fuck yeah, I’m staring.” He toed off his boots, not daring to take his eyes off her for fear she’d bolt. “Been thinking about seeing you exactly where you are now for the last week. You think I’m not gonna pause and pay homage, you’re out of your mind.”
The comment earned him a naughty smile and damned if she didn’t push her shoulders back with a lot more confidence.
Done shucking his socks, he tugged his T off and popped the buttons on his fly, giving his straining cock some much needed breathing room. “You like that? Watching me look at you?”
Her gaze dropped to his torso then farther to where his dick stretched tall and proud behind his black briefs. “Yes, but I think I like looking at you more.”
He chuckled and put a knee to the bed. “The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.” He worked the button/zipper combo on her jeans and tugged them down her hips. “Now, ass up, because I’m gonna get a full frontal before I dive in and see if your pussy tastes as good as your mouth.”
She lifted for him, but she did it on a low moan, squeezing her legs together like he’d already got his face between her thighs.
The second the denim cleared her bubblegum-pink painted toes, he was up on the bed, knees anchored on either side of her and hands skimming up her slender hips then in to cup her breasts. Fitting for her ballerina-lithe body, they barely filled his palms, but were one hundred percent Grade-A perfect with watermelon pink tips to match her lips.
Her fingertips danced across his pecs, then lower to his abs.
“Oh no, you don’t.” He caught her at both wrists and guided them to her chest. “You want to play with something, you play with these.”
She pouted and opened her mouth.
“You don’t like me bossy in the office,” he said before she could argue, “you’re gonna hate me in the bedroom. Now, get your hands engaged and show me how you play with your tits when you’ve got that box of toys out from under your bed.”
Her eyelids grew heavy and her voice rasped through him in all the right places, “I don’t want my hands, I want yours. And your mouth.”
“Oh, you’re gonna get my mouth.” He maneuvered himself between her thighs, slipped his hands behind her knees and splayed them up and wide. “My mouth, my fingers and every inch of my cock.”
He should have braced. Or at least had the common sense not to let his gaze trail down to her exposed sex. Beautiful. A thin strip of closely cropped blonde as white as the hair on her head and her pretty pink center just waiting for his undivided attention. Her clit was already so hard it peeked out from its hood and her labia glistened in the lamplight. He dove in, bypassing all preamble in favor of a direct assault and licking straight through her slit.
Darya bucked against his mouth and cried out, not one of the Russian words she uttered anything he understood, but sounded fantastic spilling from her lips. She widened her knees and her fingers tangled in his hair holding him in place. As if there was a snowball’s chance in hell of him moving from this spot before she came on his tongue.
With another long swipe, he slowly lifted his gaze and nearly came at the sight.
She watched him. Openly. Her lips parted as her breath sawed in and out on heavy pants. A shining angel caught in a debauched moment.
He flicked her clit with his tongue and plunged one finger inside her. “This what you want?”
Her eyes widened and she rolled her hips. “More.”
Now, that was a word he understood. He added a second and pumped deeper.
She moaned and fisted her hands in his hair. “Yes. Just like that.” Her hips rocked, over and over, eyes riveted to his work. She licked her lower lip and her voice dropped to a husky pitch that drew his nuts up tight. “I imagined this. Wanted it.”
God, so had he. Though, not once had he imagined she’d be this candid. This comfortable and direct in her sexuality. Combined with her responsiveness, she was a fresh new addiction just waiting to happen. “Yeah?” he muttered over her sex, his warm breath ricocheting off her flesh and eliciting a tiny whimper. “You come from my mouth in your fantasies, or my cock?”
“Both.” An instant answer and insistent demand all rolled up into one.
He lifted his head just enough to grin up at her, crooked his wrist for just the right angle and growled against her clit. “Then sweetheart, that’s exactly what you’re gonna get.”
The pads of his fingertips brushed the dimpled sweet spot along her front wall just as his mouth closed around her and suckled deep.
Her back bowed in a beautiful arch and her pert nipples jutted straight for the ceiling. With every brush of his fingers, her hips jerked and the muscles around his fingers quavered. So close. So damned close. He slipped in a third finger, her slickness easily letting him play and stretch her for his cock. He hummed and gently crazed her clit with his teeth.
“Knox!”
Hard and fast, her pussy contracted around his fingers, the sheer strength of the reaction making his shaft throb in anticipation. Her scent and taste engulfed him. A lethal mix of sin and sweetness. Not giving her a chance to level out, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, spearing deep to gather every drop while he rubbed out her release. Fuck, but he needed inside her. Needed that fierce catch and release rippling up and down his cock.
He nipped the inside of one thigh and landed a sharp smack on the outside of the other. “Hands and knees. Now.”
Rather than follow his instruction, she slid her fingers between her legs, milking out the dregs of her release with a slow pump and glide. Her lips held a languid smile and her eyelids hung heavy like a milk-drunk kitten. Her husky voice mixed with her accent made her sound like a film noir starlet. “You’re being bossy.”
He pushed off the bed, shoved his jeans and briefs free and snagged a condom from his pocket in record time. His cock bobbed tall and eager, so engorged with blood it was a wonder he could stand at all. “You feel good?”
Her gaze dropped to his cock. “Oh, yes.”
He grinned and ripped open the condom. “Then I’d say bossy’s working just fine.” Gloved up, he crawled onto the bed, grabbed her at the waist and flipped her over. “Now, ass up, face to the mattress. I’ve got work to do.”
On his knees behind her, he couldn’t see her face, but her low and wicked chuckle said game on. Sure enough, she slowly widened her knees and lifted her perfect heart-shaped ass. If that wasn’t a drop dead sexy enough move on its own, she tossed her head, peeked at him over one shoulder and glided her fingers through her slit, picking right back up where she’d left off. “You work. I’ll play.”
Hell, yeah.
He palmed her hips and nudged his glans against her entrance. His whole damned body lit up on contact, a powerhouse current jolting through him that could have powered all of Dallas for a solid twenty-four hours.
She arched her back higher, offering herself in the most carnal way.
The sight was hands down the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. His thick cock, dark and insanely hard, poised and ready to tunnel into her soft pink pussy. But more than that, the moment felt huge. Life altering in a way he couldn’t have stepped back from even at gunpoint. He pressed forward, the whole damned world narrowing down to that single moment. To the feel of her sex taking him in and making him whole.
“Knox.” His name on her lips sounded like a prayer, which was good because he needed one. A huge one if he had any hopes of keeping his balance with this woman. Her scent. Her breathy moans. The forthright way she owned her sensuality and grabbed for what she wanted. It was intoxicating. A fix no man in his right mind would ever want to kick.
He worked himself inside, slow and steady at first then building to faster and longer strokes. Smoothing his hand up her spine, he wrapped one hand in her glorious hair and tugged her upright. It was primal, completely out of line with a woman who barely knew him, but Darya came willingly, dropping her head back against his shoulder with a sigh that pulsed straight down the center of his shaft.
“You like it hard?”
“Yes.”
He cupped one breast, plucking the tip while the other shook with each smack of his hips. “Dirty?”
“God, yes.” The way she said it, an edge of relief and utter gratitude mixed with wrenching need, cut straight through him. Untethered what was left of his control.
“Good,” he said between heavy breaths, “because that’s where we’re going and we’re going there fast.”
She rolled her head toward him and opened her lust-drunk eyes, a triumphant smile tilting her lips. “I can’t wait.”
Fuck.
He tumbled them both forward, one hand holding his weight while the other pinned her at the back of her neck to the bed. Thrust after thrust, he powered deep and damned if she didn’t lift her hips for more. Every detail crowded around him in the sharpest focus. His dog tags resting against her spine. The slap of flesh on flesh. Their ragged breaths. His dark hands gripping her pale hips and the way her hair spilled down her back. So many layers. An intricate, erotic labyrinth that lured him deeper and deeper.
Her sex fluttered around him, the promise of her release so close he nearly shot his own. He fingered the ample wetness between them and slicked the moisture up to her swollen nub. “Need you to get there.” His sharp pants buffeted off her neck and against his face. “Need your cunt milking my cock the way you came on my fingers.”
Her hips jerked and she cried out, the sweet pulse of her pussy fisting unmercifully around him. He tried to hold it. Drove his pelvis flush against her ass and stilled every movement save the gentle back-and-forth of his finger over her clit, but the clench of her muscles was too strong. Too potent.
His nuts drew up tight and his hips bucked on reflex, his release shooting down his shaft and jetting free so hard the rest of the world ceased to exist. All that that mattered was the silky glide of his cock inside her. Her winter-rose scent on his skin and the lingering musk of sex.
Slowly, he pumped in and out, leisurely exploring her slick folds with his fingers while his heart scrambled to find a steady rhythm.
Her body trembled beneath him and her breath shuddered out on a long sigh.
He eased some of his weight off her and nudged her to her belly with his hips. “Lay flat for me.”
Instantly, she obeyed, for once not giving him lip or questioning why. He kept their connection, though, blanketing her back with his body. He kissed her sweat-dampened shoulder. “You okay?”
“Mmmm.” She opened her eyes. No remorse shone back at him. Only sated pleasure. She stirred her hips beneath him and generated a fresh wave of aftershocks. “Quite happy, actually. Sweaty, but happy.”
He grinned, swept her hair to one side and blew a cold stream of air along her spine. “Better?”
She shivered and giggled. “Stop that. I’m Russian. We appreciate heat.”
Man, did he understand that, especially with his softening cock still nestled deep in the heart of her. He should move. Deal with the condom and give them both space before she read more into the moment than she should. Hell, before he read any more into it.
He kissed the top of her spine, taking one last second to savor the taste of her skin before he moved away. An act that, in and of itself, said just how dangerous this woman could be for him. Not one of his lovers had ever called him callous, but he’d always made a point to watch the affection afterward. Blurring the lines with sex was too easy, and yet with her, he couldn’t help but trail more down her back as he pulled away, his dog tags dragging along her skin. “Gonna hit the bathroom. You want anything while I’m up?”
She hissed as he left her and slowly rolled to her back, a wanton sex goddess replete on a bed of sin. “No. I’m perfect.” She waved him away with a soft smile. “Go. Deal with business. Let me rest.”
Dismissed without so much as a flinch. Definitely a good sign, but for some reason it stung. He ambled to the bathroom and tossed the condom. His reflection stared back at him. Same man. Same safe routine, but the image looked empty. Flat.
The lamplight from Darya’s room clicked off.
So now what did he do? Normally, he covered the ground rules well before he got near a bed and made sure whoever he was with was good with him crashing long and hard while his brain disengaged, but he’d been so amped up and in denial when he snapped he’d leap-frogged right over logistics.
One thing was for sure, he needed the shut-eye. Badly. But on the other hand, if he woke up and found her wrapped around him he’d have a whole different mess on his hands.
He flipped off the light and padded to her bedroom. Only a trace of light slipped from the parking lot through her blinds, but enough to show her curled on one side of the bed, her blonde hair spilling across her pillow. She yawned and the seductive sound of her skin moving against the soft sheets slipped through the room. “Sorry,” she said on the tail end of her yawn. “This is my side. You’ll have to take the other.”
So easy. Almost too easy.
But for a good night’s sleep he’d take it at face value and worry about the rest in the morning. He peeled back the sheets and stretched out beside her. Her scent was everywhere, mingled with his own and the rich aftermath of sex. He closed his eyes and the blessed languidness that eluded him most nights crept in fog-thick around him. His heart slowed and his breath evened out, matching Darya’s beside him. So close to sleep. “Darya?”
“Mmm?”
The darkness rolled closer. Heavier. “You were right. No regrets.”
“No regrets,” she whispered back.
And then, blessed sleep.