Beneath the Secrets
Page 18
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His hands stroked over her waist, caressing her br**sts, and she arched into him, panting into his mouth. He reached behind her, surprising her by tugging away the blouse, and releasing her hands. He lifted her and before her arms and legs fully circled his body, he’d set her on the desk on the opposite side of the room. Kara had barely steadied herself with her hands behind her when Blake settled into the chair in front of her, and lifted her legs over his shoulders.
Kara sucked in a breath at the intimate, vulnerable position she was in, wearing nothing but thigh-highs and heels, spread wide open for him. A sense of that vulnerability mixed with extreme arousal overcame her, scared her. Suddenly, desperately, she needed some form of control, some ability to impact what came next when she had none now. “Blake, I—”
“We’ll talk later,” he said, and with a hot flick of his gaze over her br**sts, he leaned down and licked her clit. And then licked it again, and again, until he suckled her nub with a gentle, perfect pressure that had her lashes lowering, her body quivering. So much for control. She needed a plan, a defense. Right. Defense. That’s what she needed. He slipped two fingers inside her sex, stroking her, pleasing her. She moaned and decided the plan could wait until later.
Chapter Seven
She shattered for him, the sweet honey of her release teasing his tongue and thickening his ridiculously hard cock. The already insane and intense ache to be inside Kara deepened, became nearly unbearable, but it was the kind of ache he knew how to satisfy, the kind that he often sought as an escape from the torment of the past two years. Finally he was with this woman in the place he belonged, in a place where only one thing mattered. Hot, sweaty, forget-everything-else sex. It was the only place the enemy belonged, the only place he could afford to let her, or anyone else for that matter, perhaps, ever again. This was a place, a feeling, he could deal with. This, Blake could embrace.
Just thinking about being naked with Kara again had his blood roaring in his ears, pumping through his body like liquid fire. Blake licked her clit one last time, feeling her tremble and soften into the aftermath of release. He eased her legs off his shoulders, then lifted her from the desk. Her legs wrapped his waist, arms wrapped his neck, and she buried her face in his neck, tangled her fingers in his hair. There was something about her gentle fingers on his scalp, the way she held him, the way her soft curves pressed into his, and her silky hair tickled his cheek, that broke through the fog of desire and allowed an uncomfortable pinching sensation in the center of his chest. Emotion. It was emotion. He hated flipping emotions. Emotions led to attachment, and attachment led to trouble…to loss and pain, and…more trouble. He wanted none of those things ever again, most especially not with the woman formerly known as Tiffany Snow.
He simply wanted to give the one woman he’d ever loved the only send-off he could by way of the slow, painful death of the man responsible. He didn’t give a damn who thought that was wrong. He could bet Whitney didn’t either considering she was dead and in the ground. Damn it to hell, why was he thinking when he could be f**king? It was past time to get naked and deep inside Kara.
Blake lifted Kara and carried her toward the bed, settling her onto the mattress. He tried to pull away from her, intending to make quick work of undressing, but she wrapped herself around him, and somehow their eyes locked. And Holy shit, the impact of that connection all but knocked him over. His breath lodged in his lungs, and his damn heart raced as if he were running a marathon. He had no idea what it was about this woman, but she reached inside him and twisted him in knots. His gaze dropped to her mouth, her lush, tempting mouth, that he wanted to kiss way too damn much for comfort. His teeth ground together, the muscles in his body tightening. It was time to shove Kara into a “fuck only” box, and make damn sure she knew that’s where she belonged.
With a low growl, Blake slanted his mouth over hers, devouring her, hungry for that dark place he knew would allow him to escape, to get lost in pleasure. His tongue suckled Kara’s, and then delved deeply for a long, seductive lick.
She moaned at his invasion, a delicate, sweet sound when he knew she was anything and everything but sweet. But she sounded sweet now and tasted it, too. Sweet and delicious and addictive. Too addictive. He couldn’t stop kissing her. Damn, he needed her wrapped around him, all tight and wet, the way he remembered her feeling in Denver.
With a low growl, Blake tore his mouth from hers, intending to push away and undress, but the creamy expanse of Kara’s throat called to him, demanding attention. His lips trailed over it, downward, while his hands caressed her br**sts, his mouth finally settled on her quivering belly. He believed her when she’d said Denver had felt “necessary”. She was too responsive, too completely his when he touched her, for it to be a lie. His ability to affect her drove him wild, made him even crazier with desire for her. But it was still just sex and he planned to make sure she knew it, too.
He pushed away from her, tugging his shirt over his head. She sat up, her br**sts high, her ni**les puckered, and kicked away her shoes, lounging in front of him, watching him with a languid quality that reminded him of a regal feline, ready to be served, pleasured. Her gaze followed his jeans and briefs to the ground, her dark lashes lowering over her chocolate-brown eyes, and lingering on the thick jut of his erection. Holy f**k, she was killing him, and the flick of her tongue over her bottom lip that made his c**k jerk, told him she knew it, too. She was everything and anything but sweet, and he’d be smart to remember that.
Kara sucked in a breath at the intimate, vulnerable position she was in, wearing nothing but thigh-highs and heels, spread wide open for him. A sense of that vulnerability mixed with extreme arousal overcame her, scared her. Suddenly, desperately, she needed some form of control, some ability to impact what came next when she had none now. “Blake, I—”
“We’ll talk later,” he said, and with a hot flick of his gaze over her br**sts, he leaned down and licked her clit. And then licked it again, and again, until he suckled her nub with a gentle, perfect pressure that had her lashes lowering, her body quivering. So much for control. She needed a plan, a defense. Right. Defense. That’s what she needed. He slipped two fingers inside her sex, stroking her, pleasing her. She moaned and decided the plan could wait until later.
Chapter Seven
She shattered for him, the sweet honey of her release teasing his tongue and thickening his ridiculously hard cock. The already insane and intense ache to be inside Kara deepened, became nearly unbearable, but it was the kind of ache he knew how to satisfy, the kind that he often sought as an escape from the torment of the past two years. Finally he was with this woman in the place he belonged, in a place where only one thing mattered. Hot, sweaty, forget-everything-else sex. It was the only place the enemy belonged, the only place he could afford to let her, or anyone else for that matter, perhaps, ever again. This was a place, a feeling, he could deal with. This, Blake could embrace.
Just thinking about being naked with Kara again had his blood roaring in his ears, pumping through his body like liquid fire. Blake licked her clit one last time, feeling her tremble and soften into the aftermath of release. He eased her legs off his shoulders, then lifted her from the desk. Her legs wrapped his waist, arms wrapped his neck, and she buried her face in his neck, tangled her fingers in his hair. There was something about her gentle fingers on his scalp, the way she held him, the way her soft curves pressed into his, and her silky hair tickled his cheek, that broke through the fog of desire and allowed an uncomfortable pinching sensation in the center of his chest. Emotion. It was emotion. He hated flipping emotions. Emotions led to attachment, and attachment led to trouble…to loss and pain, and…more trouble. He wanted none of those things ever again, most especially not with the woman formerly known as Tiffany Snow.
He simply wanted to give the one woman he’d ever loved the only send-off he could by way of the slow, painful death of the man responsible. He didn’t give a damn who thought that was wrong. He could bet Whitney didn’t either considering she was dead and in the ground. Damn it to hell, why was he thinking when he could be f**king? It was past time to get naked and deep inside Kara.
Blake lifted Kara and carried her toward the bed, settling her onto the mattress. He tried to pull away from her, intending to make quick work of undressing, but she wrapped herself around him, and somehow their eyes locked. And Holy shit, the impact of that connection all but knocked him over. His breath lodged in his lungs, and his damn heart raced as if he were running a marathon. He had no idea what it was about this woman, but she reached inside him and twisted him in knots. His gaze dropped to her mouth, her lush, tempting mouth, that he wanted to kiss way too damn much for comfort. His teeth ground together, the muscles in his body tightening. It was time to shove Kara into a “fuck only” box, and make damn sure she knew that’s where she belonged.
With a low growl, Blake slanted his mouth over hers, devouring her, hungry for that dark place he knew would allow him to escape, to get lost in pleasure. His tongue suckled Kara’s, and then delved deeply for a long, seductive lick.
She moaned at his invasion, a delicate, sweet sound when he knew she was anything and everything but sweet. But she sounded sweet now and tasted it, too. Sweet and delicious and addictive. Too addictive. He couldn’t stop kissing her. Damn, he needed her wrapped around him, all tight and wet, the way he remembered her feeling in Denver.
With a low growl, Blake tore his mouth from hers, intending to push away and undress, but the creamy expanse of Kara’s throat called to him, demanding attention. His lips trailed over it, downward, while his hands caressed her br**sts, his mouth finally settled on her quivering belly. He believed her when she’d said Denver had felt “necessary”. She was too responsive, too completely his when he touched her, for it to be a lie. His ability to affect her drove him wild, made him even crazier with desire for her. But it was still just sex and he planned to make sure she knew it, too.
He pushed away from her, tugging his shirt over his head. She sat up, her br**sts high, her ni**les puckered, and kicked away her shoes, lounging in front of him, watching him with a languid quality that reminded him of a regal feline, ready to be served, pleasured. Her gaze followed his jeans and briefs to the ground, her dark lashes lowering over her chocolate-brown eyes, and lingering on the thick jut of his erection. Holy f**k, she was killing him, and the flick of her tongue over her bottom lip that made his c**k jerk, told him she knew it, too. She was everything and anything but sweet, and he’d be smart to remember that.
