Nauti Temptress

Had she intended to keep it?



Eve had never lied to herself, but she realized she had lied to her brother.



“My head did,” she finally whispered. “But my heart wasn’t so certain.”



Staring up at him, Eve realized that even when Dawg had asked for her promise, she had known it was unfair. Just as she had known it would be impossible for her to keep.



Rising to her feet, she had every intention of returning to the lake house, gathering her things together, and leaving. There were too many emotions swirling inside her. Too many that she could sense were coming from Brogan, and too many of her own that she didn’t understand.



Then there was the hunger.



Through the conversation, each question and answer, there had been an unspoken hunger building, growing between them: needs she didn’t understand, hungers that raged and built until she was certain she wasn’t sensing just her own, but his as well.



“Where are you going?” he demanded as she moved past him.



“I have to leave, Brogan.” Staring up at him, she felt torn, so torn she couldn’t make sense of it. “I need time to think.”



“Time to think about what?” he demanded, his hands catching her hips and pulling her into him. “About us? Or about keeping a promise you should have never made to begin with?”



“Maybe I need to think about the fact that I really don’t like being controlled,” she burst out. “Not by my brother, your boss, or you.”



She faced him, her chin lifting proudly as she tried—hell, she fought—to ignore the needs raging through her.



Hard and erect, his cock pressed into her stomach.



She was wet, slick, and hot, the weeping heat spilling to the bare folds of her pussy and dampening her panties.



“And I already warned you that was something you should have already considered. It’s too damned late to think you can just walk away, Eve,” he warned her.



“I can do whatever I want to do,” she informed him defiantly.



“Then maybe I need to remind you why you don’t want to,” he stated, his tone rasping, assuring her that the thought of her leaving was one Brogan was refusing to entertain.



“Why?” she cried out, the uncertainties assailing her driving home the fact that maybe she really didn’t know the man she had allowed herself to sleep with the night before.



No, she hadn’t known him, something protested inside her, but she knew him now. She could stare into his face, into his eyes, and she could see him now. She could see the man staring down at her and recognize the emotions swirling beneath the chilly surface of his gaze.



What she sensed there had her body instantly priming for sex. Her clit swelled; her pussy began heating, the slick dampness preparing her vagina for his invasion. She could feel the fierce determination swirling in the depths of his gaze reaching out to her. And being able to read him so well now was a little freaky.



“I can fucking feel you.” He grimaced, his blue-gray eyes darkening, flashing with frustration. “It’s like you’re slapping me with your hurt feelings and uncertainty. Stop it!”



“Stop it?” Shooting him a withering look, she propped her hands on her hips in vexation. “Fine, Brogan, I’ll stop slapping you with the fact that everyone around me seems to be using me, for some reason, and you can stop slapping me with all that arrogance and distrust I can feel rushing from you.” She started to turn away before turning back to him. “And while you’re at it, stop fucking me in your mind. It was bad enough before, when all I had to worry about was changing my panties because of my own dirty thoughts, but yours are just plain depraved.” Her arms crossed beneath her breasts as she stared back at him, incensed.



His gaze became shuttered, brooding as she watched him, her heart racing with anger and excitement.



“You’ve never felt this before either, have you?” That certainty was as clear as the knowledge that the arousal hardening his body was only burning hotter inside him by the minute.



“Felt what?” Guarded, cautious, he watched her almost impassively.



“Forget it.” Shaking her head, she refused to allow herself to be drawn into an argument he would only find ways to refute. “Just mark it down to my overactive imagination. But remember, Brogan, you’re the one who told me to stop slapping you with my emotions first. I was keeping my mouth shut about it.”



That was what she sensed, felt. As though a part of her had opened up to him, making her completely empathic when it came to him.



And, it seemed, him to her.



“Chatham Doogan spoke to me first at the bar,” she gritted out between clenched teeth, determined to steer the conversation well away from what they were feeling. “John Walker introduced him as an old friend of his and Sierra’s.”



“Sierra’s a distant cousin,” he admitted grudgingly.



“He asked me to dinner; I accepted. Why did the two of you pretend you didn’t know each other at the restaurant?”



“Because it was the wrong place and time for explanations.” His tone was clipped as the curve of his jaw tightened into unyielding lines.



Complete denial filled his expression and his gaze, but that did nothing to change what she could feel—or what she could sense, perhaps.



She wasn’t certain what it was. Staring back at him, she could feel his anger, his sudden distrust, but also his arousal. And that was building by the second.



“I’m ready to go home, Brogan. . . .”



“No, you’re not. You’re as damned ready to fuck as I am.” Dripping with carnality, his voice roughened, lowering insinuatingly. “What do you want, Eve? My tongue filling your tight little pussy again? My cock fucking your mouth until you can taste my release?” As he spoke, his sharp, almost insulting tone became hoarse, heated.



And he was right; she wanted that and more.



Warily, she watched as he moved closer, his head tilting as he stared down at her, his gaze becoming dark, stormy as it glittered almost feverishly.



“And you want it here,” he stated provocatively. “Don’t you, Eve? Right here within this grotto, spread out on that bench.” His head lowered, his lips brushing at her ear. “You want my tongue and my cock so deep inside your pussy that you can’t bear any more. But you want more than that, don’t you?” he whispered then, surprise and rapacious anticipation growling in his voice. “You want it to hurt just that little bit again. You liked it, didn’t you? Fuck, no.” His breathing was heavy, harsh. “You loved it.”



“Stop.” She couldn’t fight this battle. She didn’t have the experience or the knowledge to combat what he was sensing.



“Do you know what I would love to do to you?” His hand lifted, the calloused tips of his fingers running up her arm. “I’d love to turn you over on your stomach, prop that pretty rounded ass up to me, and spank it until it flushes cherry red. Until your pussy is so wet your thighs are damp with your cream. And when you’re begging, so desperate to be fucked that nothing else matters, I want to watch my dick stretch your ass, watch as that tiny, tiny little entrance blooms around my cock and sucks it inside.”



She couldn’t breathe.



Eroticism rushed through her, weakening her knees and accelerating her breathing as he gripped her hip with his other hand while the fingers stroking her arm slid to the curve of her rear.



Cupping the rounded flesh of her rear cheeks beneath the soft chiffon of her skirt, he clenched the rounded flesh, pulling at it, igniting a tiny burst of heated sensation in her anus.



“I could make that hurt so good, Eve. You won’t know if it’s agony or ecstasy. All you’ll know is that you want more. That you have to have more.”



She was shaking in his arms, trembling as his hand moved between them, obviously loosening his belt, then his jeans.



“Brogan.” Protest or pleasure?



She had no idea what she was feeling or how she should react. She had no idea how to handle the wicked, carnal animal Brogan was unleashing on her.



Or the one he was unleashing in her.



“I can’t take your ass here.” Grudging regret filled his voice. “Unfortunately, the lube and toys are all back at the house, baby. But I can give you part of what you want.”



His jeans parted and a second later she could feel him stroking the hard, heated length of his cock as her nails curled against the shirt covering his wide chest.



“Why . . . why are you doing this . . . ?” Why was he using his ability to sense only her sexual needs and not the rest of her? The sexuality, the hunger for him, was rooted in something much deeper than lust.



“Because I’m just as hungry to do it as you are to have it done,” he admitted, his tone ragged. “And I’m going to do it, Eve. Just like you’re going to suck my dick, right here. Right now.”



His gaze was narrowed as her gaze jerked to his in sudden nervous awareness.



“Go to your knees,” he demanded, though his tone gentled at the last second. “Show me how badly you want to come for me, sweetheart. Show me how badly you want me to come in your hot little mouth.”



Sensation erupted in her womb, spasming through it as his gaze suddenly gleamed with avid hunger and awareness.



“On your knees.” The erotic command sent wanton excitement exploding through her senses.



Slowly, her gaze held by his, she went to her knees.



His fingers slid into her hair, clenching it and holding her in place as he gripped the base of his cock and rubbed it against her lips.



“I love watching my dick slide between your lips,” he confessed, his voice thick and rough. “Watching you suck it in as that hot little tongue licks over it. Suck it in, Eve. Show me how much you want it.”



Her lips parted, her tongue curling over the engorged crest as he pressed inside, filling her mouth with the throbbing heat of his cock head.



She wrapped the fingers of both hands around the thick shaft as she began to milk it slowly, her mouth tightening on the crest, sucking it deep as it filled the damp interior.



Brogan’s hands clenched in her hair, his hips suddenly tense, the need to thrust inside her mouth filling him.



Fuck. How had this happened? He’d been certain he’d never convince his sexually inexperienced little Eve to become so brazen and wanton.



Eyes closed, her face flushed and absorbed in the complete sexuality overtaking her, Brogan watched as her lips stretched to take the broad crest.



Her mouth suckled at the iron-hard flared head; she milked it with her mouth and hands as each draw sent brutal lashes of pleasure striking at his balls, surrounding his dick. Her delicate hands moved on the wide shaft, masturbating it in rhythm to the hungry draws of her mouth.



“Sweet Eve.” He groaned, his body taut with the sweeping pleasure. “That hot little mouth makes me crazy.” His hips moved, thrusting shallowly against her stretched lips. “Your fucking mouth is so damned good. Watching my dick take your mouth is so damned hot.”



Her lips tightened, her mouth drawing on the fiercely erect cock head. Her tongue lashed beneath the flared head, rubbing at the highly sensitive, nerve-laden area just beneath the crest.



Exquisite pleasure tightened around the taut sac of his balls. Clenched tight beneath the base of his cock, his testicles throbbed, ached for release. He watched her lips surrounding the throbbing crest as he fucked in, pulling free, the glistening moisture followed by the lash of her tongue around the crest.



His fingers held her hair, keeping her head firmly in place as he pressed deeper.



“Take it, baby,” he crooned, encouraging her hunger. “Just relax. Breathe out and swallow.”



His cock slid to the back of her mouth, and the feel of her swallowing against the tip sent jagged forks of sensation rushing straight to his balls.



Brogan knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Hell, he didn’t want to last much longer. He wanted to watch her face, see her take his release as he filled her mouth with it.