Chapter Seven
Lana fiddled with her purse as she followed Byron, unsure how much trouble she was about to invite into her life. She didn’t miss the distinct bulge in his jeans when he passed her, nor the heavy innuendo in his words. He had made it clear that he wanted her, but also that he was leaving it up to her to determine how far they took things. The way her body reacted whenever she came near him told her she should jump his bones now before one of them ended up dead.
Her mind, on the other hand, cautioned her not to give in to him blindly. He was hiding something from her, but what?
Espe’s whispered advice played again in her mind. Have a howling good time. What the hell did that mean? But as she caught a glimpse of the way his jeans clung to his tight ass, images of doing all kinds of naughty things came to mind. Her fingers itched to grab it, to pinch it, to feel the muscles slide under her palms as he pumped his cock deep inside her over and over again.
The cool desert night air suddenly felt as hot as the noon sun. Damn, why had her mind gone there? Why had another man’s touch made her skin crawl earlier tonight, whereas Byron’s made her want to remove every stitch of clothing? She admitted she needed a good ol’ fashioned fuck fest—a “Lana-palooza” where she came so many times, she would have trouble walking the next day. But it wouldn’t be open to the general public. Just the one man she’d hungered for since the first second she’d laid eyes on him.
There, that settles it. Just sleep with him and get it out of your system.
Her gut tightened. She hated it when her common sense agreed with her emotional side.
But what if once isn’t enough?
She shook her head. No, once would have to be enough. Anything more and she’d risk forming a relationship with him, however sick and twisted it might be.
With her walls up and a game plan in place, she entered the Venetian with a fixed smiled on her face.
Too bad the moment he took her hand, everything fell apart.
The innocent gesture cracked her façade and set free a torrent of emotions inside her. They cascaded through her body from the point of contact with him, filling her with warm, panty-drenching lust. The lone song of a gondolier reverberated off the walls from the canal that wound its way through the casino. The pleading notes tugged at her heart, intensified her desire, and made her want to push him against the wall and finish what they’d started last night.
Her breath came out in ragged pants. Screw looking for vampires—they had less than half an hour to get back to their black holes before the sun came up anyway. Where were the elevators up to his room?
“Are you feeling okay, Lana?”
His question pulled her from her downward spiral of self-destruction. Her whole body burned. She blinked a few times to bring her surroundings back into focus. How should she answer him? Take your clothes off and fuck me now? “Um, why don’t we just head upstairs?”
“And finish our discussion in private?”
The raw edge in his voice nearly sent her over the edge. Jesus Christ, he seemed just as turned on as she was. If they made it to his room fully clothed, she couldn’t decide if she’d be surprised or disappointed.
She got her answer as soon as the elevator doors closed. He took a step toward her and hesitated, as if he was worrying about being too aggressive. She’d barely inclined her head forward before he wrapped her up in his arms.
Their lips crushed together so fiercely, she could almost taste his desperation. Her mouth parted and his tongue swept in to ravage it. Each sensual flick heightened the throbbing tension between her legs. She pressed against the solid bulge in his jeans and frantically ground her hips, hoping to stimulate her already-sensitive clit.
The elevator dinged and they jumped apart like two teenagers caught making out in a car on the side of the road by the local sheriff.
His chest heaved up and down as if he’d just sprinted the hundred-meter dash at a world-record pace. “My room is just down the hall.”
“Good,” she managed to say between her own quick breaths. The sooner they got to bed, the better.
He fumbled with the key card, his hand trembling as he inserted it into the slot. She inhaled through her teeth and tried not to tell him to hurry up. Dear God, what was wrong with her? She was acting crazier than that cougar from the other night.
The green light flashed, and they practically fell into the room. He kicked the door closed while his hands slid under the slinky material of her top. The warm calluses on his palms felt rough against her skin, complementing the almost savage way he kissed her.
Byron was a man’s man, not some sissy metrosexual. He knew what he wanted, worked hard to get it, and had no qualms about being forceful when he needed to be. And she loved every second of it.
She slipped his blazer off, followed by his holster, and tugged at the buttons of his shirt. He needed to get naked now. He seemed to understand her urgency and broke lip contact long enough to pull her top over her head and then yanked at his shirt so hard, buttons flew across the room.
The sparse tawny hair that covered his chest tickled her aroused nipples through the thin lace of her bra. But still her hands traveled lower, now working on the zipper of his jeans as she backpedaled through the suite to the king-sized bed.
“Maybe we should slow things down before we get out of control,” he whispered in her ear before nibbling on the lobe.
“We’ll have time to be slow afterwards.” She opened his jeans with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning and shoved them and his boxers down to his ankles. His erect cock sprang free, a fresh pearl of dew gathering on its tip. She fell to her knees and licked it, savoring the salty taste of it on her tongue. But she wanted more and took all of his hard, thick length into her mouth.
A shudder shook his body as he moaned. “Oh God, Lana, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come right in your hot little mouth.”
If he came now, how long would she have to wait before he was ready to come again? She gave the underside of his cock one final, long lick as she pulled away. “What do you suggest I do then?”
He took her hands and helped her back to her feet. “I want to savor you.” He cupped one of her breasts. His thumb flicked across her taut nipple through her bra, and she gasped at the intense thrill that such a simple action elicited. “Taste every inch of your skin.” His lips trailed down her throat in a combination of nips, nibbles and chaste kisses. She threw her head back, allowing him easy access to her throat. “Make you cry my name out as you come over and over again.”
“Tall agenda for one man.” But she didn’t doubt he could fulfill each of his promises.
“I aim to please.” He removed her fitted black pants, leaving the lace panties that matched her bra in place, and stared at her with wonder in his eyes. “Lana, you’re so beautiful.”
The low hush of his words sent a shiver of delight down her spine. Not even Max had made her feel like the goddess Byron did. She forgot about her imperfections and reveled in his adoration.
“Come to bed.”
She took his hand, admiring the sculpted muscles of his ass and back as she followed him. Before she crawled on the mattress, she kicked off her shoes and released her hair from the tight ponytail she’d worn tonight. Under the low light, she watched him shed the last of his clothes and noticed the long, jagged scars across his chest and chiseled abs.
She traced one of them with her finger when he came close enough to touch. “What happened?”
A high-pitched hiss sounded between his teeth, and her heart stopped. Had she touched on a subject that left deeper scars than what she saw on the outside?
He lay down next to her and covered one of her breasts with his hand. “I was attacked by a wolf when I was seven.” He watched her intently as if he were waiting for her to run screaming.
Instead, compassion welled up in her heart almost to the point where it exploded. His imperfections made him all the more desirable. She leaned over and pressed her lips against the highest scar on his chest. “But you survived.”
Some of the tension eased from his muscles while she covered the scars with her kisses. “Yes.”
She wrapped her hand around his cock as she continued lower. It throbbed in her hand in time with the dull ache forming in the pit of her stomach. She wanted him and all his male magnificence inside her, but when she tried to straddle his lap, he pushed her back into the pillows.
“Eager, huh?” His lopsided grin teased her almost as much as his erection rubbing against the inside of her thighs. “Perhaps I should teach you the benefits of patience.” And with that, he unhooked her bra and took her bare breast into his mouth.
Her sex spasmed with the first swipe of his tongue, and a whimper rose in her throat. “Please don’t tease me all night.”
His chuckle vibrated through her chest. “There’s teasing, and then there’s foreplay.” His teeth grated against her nipple while his fingers massaged the other breast.
“There’s foreplay, and then there’s torture.” She dug her nails into his shoulder and lifted her hips, desperately trying to reach the angle where the head of his cock could penetrate her. She’d never physically needed a man like this before, and it almost scared her.
He laughed again and moved lower, his tongue now swirling in the hollows of her navel. “But what sweet torture.”
She threaded her fingers through his hair, hoping he was heading where she thought he was. Talk about sweet torture. What was a girl to do but sit back and enjoy it? Her eyelids grew heavy, and her brain shut down so she could focus only on the basic sensations: the feel of his hands on her hips, the lingering taste of his kiss, the smell of their arousal in the air.
His finger hooked the top of her panties and pushed them aside before delving into her slick folds. It grazed her swollen clit, making her whole body stiffen in pleasure. He lifted his head, smiling at her reaction, and repeated the action. “Should I continue?”
Lana didn’t trust her lips to form coherent words while his finger continued to toy with the tiny nub, so she just nodded.
“Do you have any idea how much you’re turning me on?” He bent down and spread her thighs apart. His tongue slipped into her damp crevice. “How delicious you taste?”
“Byron, please, I’m so close.” The reality of her statement shocked her. Even with her toys, it seemed to take forever to reach an orgasm, and he already had her teetering over the brink.
His tongue danced a dizzying swirl about her clit while two of his fingers explored the deeper recess of her sex. The combination of rough and gentle, lapping and suckling, stroking and coaxing, culminated in a tension that coiled tighter and tighter until it reached the breaking point. She remembered shouting his name before she became lost in the deluge of bliss.
The last waves of her orgasm began to recede when she heard the crinkling of a foil wrapper. She instinctively spread her legs wider to accommodate his hips. With agonizing slowness, he entered her, filling her completely and stretching her walls with his girth. An expression of pure ecstasy alternated with tense restraint on his face.
Worry over his internal battle almost ruined the moment for her. What is he thinking? She traced the lines of his face with her fingers. Why is he holding back? Does he think he’ll hurt me? She shifted her hips, allowing him to go deeper inside her, and sighed. “Dear God, Byron, you feel so good.”
Her words seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. He began to move inside her, taking his time with each stroke and driving her nearly insane with lust. His eyes remained fixed on her face, but she didn’t care what kind of funny contortions her features took. She needed to come again, and he seemed all too happy to oblige. Her hips moved to meet his and urged him to go faster.
“I have to be careful. I don’t want to—” His words broke off in mid-sentence when she clenched her walls around him. “You have no idea…”
She pulled his lips to hers and kissed him until they couldn’t breathe. “Don’t worry about me. Just finish what you started.”
“My. Sweet. Sexy. Lana.” He punctuated each word with a thrust of his cock, hitting her G-spot and bringing her back to the verge of coming again.
This is too good to be real. How can a man I’ve just met know me so well?
Sweat coated their bodies in a salty sheen she tasted every time her tongue touched his skin. He alternated his rhythm, speeding up until she almost came and then slowing down to draw out the experience as long as possible. Wickedly long. But she relished each second. After tonight, she’d never know the delight of being in his arms again. She’d never feel him inside her. Never feel wanted and cherished and—
Her thoughts halted as another wave of pleasure slammed into her, shattering her body and almost seeming to merge her consciousness with Byron’s. What had been a purely physical sensation morphed into something deeper when she met his gaze. For a second, she swore she saw his soul right before a strangled cry broke from his throat and he came inside her.
His body trembled under her hands while he experienced his own roller coaster of bliss. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, kissed his face and neck, and toyed with the idea of never letting him go. She knew from the moment she met him he’d wreak havoc in her life, but she had no idea how one night with him could shake up her whole existence.
He collapsed and rolled off her, panting. Her body suddenly felt cold and abandoned. She cuddled next to him, eager to regain his warmth. One arm wrapped around her waist while the other brought her hand over his pounding heart. His male scent filled her nostrils and calmed her.
“Lana, I never expected—I mean, I—” His brows scrunched together. “I’ve never experienced something that intense before.” Then his eyes shot open and he flipped her over, running his fingers over her bare skin. Panic crept into his voice. “I didn’t bite you or hurt you, did I?”
She giggled over his concern. “Why? Are you in the habit of doing such things to your lovers?”
Her chest tightened. Did I dare imply I was his lover?
“No, but I especially didn’t want to hurt you. Just toward the end, I seemed to lose track of where I ended and you began, and I…” He paused and cupped her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. A strange glow illuminated their hazel depths. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget this night.”
“Neither will I.” Her throat grew raw from unshed tears. She wouldn’t allow herself to cry. She should take every precious second and enjoy it instead of mourning the future. She’d deal with that in the morning.
He kissed her forehead and cradled her in his arms. His body grew still next to hers, and a few minutes later, his light snoring signaled that he’d already surrendered to his exhaustion.
She pulled the sheets up to her breasts and closed her eyes. In the morning, she’d explain the rules to him. Although, based on the way she was feeling right now, she could become all too comfortable with sleeping in his arms every night for the rest of her life.