Nauti Temptress
Page 21

That finger pointed up toward his face imperiously.
“Number two,” she continued. “Not only am I not a bitch to jump at your command, neither am I some whore you bought for fifty bucks, or the mistress you support. Just because you all but kidnapped me does not mean I owe you so much as my company, let alone my virginity.”
She watched as his eyes narrowed on her, the blue-gray definitely turning steel gray at the mention of her virginity.
“And number three,” she snapped, unable to hold back the anger caused by so much adrenaline with no place to go. “If you can’t respect me, Brogan, and see me as your equal, then I’ll be damned if you’re even in the running for my virginity.”
She was finished now.
Stepping back, she propped her hands on her hips and glared at him. He smiled. And that smile sent trepidation surging through her.
“My equal?” he asked. “Sweet pea, when you can work a ten-hour day in the freezing rain, take down four drug-crazed dealers intent on having your head, keep up with my daily workout, and show me you’ve grown a ten-inch dick at some point, then I will most gladly drop all my dominant, manipulating schemes to rid you of your virginity and will then consider you my equal.” His hand shot out, grabbed her wrist, and, before she could jerk it back, he used it to drag her to him, his other arm locking around her back to hold her to him. Eve found herself up and close and personal.
“Ten . . .” she squeaked as his hips pressed against her firmly while he held her close enough that there was no escaping the fact that he might not be lying.
“Outside our bed, outside what is sure to be some damned fucking mind-blowing sex, you can attempt to tame me until hell freezes over, if that’s what you want.” His head lowered, and the erotic demand and white-hot lust that tightened his features completely stole her breath as he continued. “But you will not control nor tame the dominance and sexual tastes that are as much a part of me as the color of my eyes or the sound of my voice. And I’m still damned sure going to accept your virginity.”
She didn’t remember offering it, and he didn’t give her a chance to offer or refuse.
Brogan lifted her closer as his lips slanted over hers, heated and hungry, the rough velvet feel of them staking a claim on her senses that she’d always known was coming.
The kisses they had shared before now were nothing compared to this one.
Eve whimpered in rising pleasure as her hands slid from where they were pressed against his chest to grip his shoulders. Sensation swirled inside her, around her, threatening to destroy any hope she ever had of escaping the hold she could feel he was taking of her soul.
As he lifted her closer, bringing her feet off the floor and urging her knees to his hips, Eve moaned at the implications of the position. She gripped his hips anyway, because she couldn’t help herself. Because the feel of his erection, heavy with lust and pressing tight against his jeans, was driving her crazy with need.
Using his hips as leverage, she rose and fell against the wedge of heat between her thighs, grinding it against her pussy, rubbing the denim covering it against the silk of her panties, and pressing it against the swollen, too-sensitive bud of her clit.
Suddenly she could feel things she had never felt before where her own body was concerned. She was feeling things she had never known she could feel until Brogan.
The emptiness of her vagina, clenched and aching; she could feel the desperate need to be filled. To be possessed.
His lips continued to devour hers; he took deep, stinging kisses and licked at the burn before deepening the kiss again. His tongue pressed between her lips, licked and teased hers. His lips slanted over hers as his tongue tasted against hers, and the taste of them together became intoxicating.
She was only barely aware of him moving, walking the distance from the patio to the bedroom, she assumed as he lowered her to the incredibly lush support of a mattress. His lips slid to the curve of her jaw before he lowered himself to his knees.
Her knees were still gripping his thighs. As he lifted from her, hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt, Eve stared around them in awe, taking in the incredibly romantic candlelit bedroom. The soft light cast a dreamy quality through the netting draped over the bed in several layers.
Like a scene out of one of the naughty romance books she liked to read, the candlelight gleamed against the bronzed flesh of his chest and shoulders as he shed the shirt. He was living proof that redheads could indeed tan to that gorgeous bronze color.
Lifting her hands, she ran them down his chest, past his flexing abdomen, to the leather belt cinching his hard waist.
Loosening the leather, she smothered a cry at the feel of his hands pushing the chiffon of her dress above her thighs. His gaze locked with hers as she struggled with the metal tabs securing his jeans.
When she eased up until she was sitting in front him, he let her have her way. When she released the last tab, he caught her hands, holding her from her prize.
“What?” she demanded desperately, her hands secured by his.
“Undress for me, Eve.” The demand in his voice should have pissed her off, rather than making her wet between her thighs.
Swallowing tightly as he eased back and helped her from the bed, Eve found herself standing before him, suddenly uncertain, trembling.
“I don’t . . .” She swallowed again, her hands lifting helplessly.
“Shh, baby,” he whispered, catching her hands, and as she watched he brought her hands to his lips, turned them, then pressed a kiss to each palm before he released them.
“I fantasize about watching you undress,” he said softly as he rose before her and shed his jeans. “Every time I jack off it’s to the images of you.” He sat back down on the bed, his fingers gripping the broad length of his cock, and began stroking it slowly as she watched, mesmerized.
The wide, engorged crest throbbed demandingly as a creamy bead of pre-come formed at the tip. Eve licked her lips nervously, unable to draw her gaze from the heavily veined shaft and throbbing head.
“How does that pretty dress come off, Eve?” he asked, the low, caressing murmur of his voice drawing free a sensuality she hadn’t known burned within her.
Lifting her hands, her gaze locked on his fingers as he caressed himself, Eve slowly reached behind her back and slid the zipper down. She knew what she wore beneath the dress. She had worn what she dreamed of wearing for him.
After releasing the zipper, Eve lifted her shoulders and slowly lowered the material over the black lace bra and matching bikini panties. The chiffon fell to her feet, revealing the silk thigh-high stockings gripping her thighs with a band of lacy elastic, while the four-inch heels made her legs look incredibly long.
Brogan’s fingers stilled on his cock, his gaze glittering with lust as it went over the lacy underthings.
Reaching back, Eve moved to unclip the fastening of the bra. Once the tiny hook released, she shrugged the straps from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
He was stroking his erection again, his fingers tightening at the base as she bent to loosen the heels she wore.
“Leave the shoes and the stockings,” he growled, reaching out to thread his fingers through her hair before she lifted her head.
“Eve,” he whispered her name, but the command, the dominance in his tone left her trembling. “If I ask for something and you’re uncomfortable, make certain the discomfort is because you’re not certain you want it rather than because of your innocence.”
He was trying to still the demand in his tone and give the statement more of the appearance of a request, but she knew what he was doing, just as she knew what he wanted.
He held her head, staring back at her as he stroked his erection, and Eve felt a shudder race through her as he slowly released his grip on her hair.
She straightened, restraining a low groan as he rose and held her shoulders, slowly turning her to the bed as his lips lowered to hers once again, moving against them, sipping at her lips, tasting her as his hands stroked down her back to her hips.
His lips shifted to her neck, stimulating and exciting the sensitive flesh as Eve trembled beneath him. She tipped her neck to the side, arching against him, and the hard, engorged shaft of his cock pressed against her lower stomach. Heat and steely strength throbbed against her, dragging a whimpering cry from her lips as need overcame hesitancy.
Eve’s lips found his chest, brushed the small disk of a male nipple, and she gloried in the sudden tension that tightened his body. One hand buried itself in her hair as the other gripped her thigh, holding her to him.
Easing her lips lower, Eve caressed the broad expanse of his chest one kiss at a time until the fingers buried in her hair tightened, easing her lips lower.
She knew what he wanted. She could feel it in the press of his fingers in her hair, the waiting stillness of his body.
Gripping his lean hips with trembling hands, Eve lowered her head down his torso, her tongue peeking out to sample the dark male taste of him. Slowly easing lower, she paused inches above the broad, throbbing crest awaiting her attention.
She’d never done this before. She’d dreamed about it, but she never actually tasted a man so intimately. And she found herself so nervous now, so uncertain.
Brogan pulled back.
Staring up at him in surprise, she gripped his hips, not ready quite yet to admit to failure. Her lips pressed against the strength of his abdomen, she closed her eyes, uncertain what to do.
“Sit on the bed.” The growl in his voice was a rasp of pure hunger.
Eve sat on the bed, finding herself at the perfect level now for what he wanted. His hand slid into her hair again as his fingers wrapped around the pulsing shaft.
There was no request, no apology. Her gaze jerked up to his as the broad head was slowly pushing against her lips.
“Open your mouth over it.” He groaned, his expression demanding. “Suck it into your mouth.”
Her lips parted over the bulging crest, a whimper escaping her as the slow penetration of her mouth sent a surge of sensation racing to the depths of her pussy.
Her clit was a swollen knot of sensual agony, aching with a force she hadn’t expected as her lips finally closed over the full breadth of his cock head.
It was a powerful feeling, the intimacy of holding such erotic strength with nothing but the pleasure her mouth could bring him.
The second her lips closed around the width of the throbbing crest, instinct seemed to take over. Everything she had read, every time she had tried to practice what she read with the erotic toy she had bought, came to her rescue. Her natural sensuality and the hungry need filling her did the rest.
Caressing him, her nails rasping against his flesh, Eve lowered her hands from his hips to his thighs. The fingers of one hand curled around the heavy shaft throbbing beneath her lips, while the fingers of the other found the taut sac drawn tight to the base of his cock.
Forcing her gaze to meet his, Eve watched the steely depths of his eyes flare, the color darkening as his hard jaw tightened with a noticeable clench.
She sucked the fierce heat of the broad crest into her mouth. Eve flicked her tongue beneath the flared head, rubbing at the sensitive underside with her tongue. Caressing and sucking the throbbing head, she closed her eyes. She stroked the hard shaft, her nails rasping over the tightened flesh of his balls before she cupped them, weighted it as a harsh groan sounded above her.
Brogan watched her face, the flushed, delicate features absorbed, suffused with sensuality as the heated dampness of her mouth tightened on the head of his cock. His fingers fisted in her hair, the silky midnight length like living warmth in his hand. Holding the soft strands, clutching them, he fought to keep from pushing her faster than she was ready; he wanted to let her find her own rhythm, her own pleasure in him.
And she was killing him with that pleasure. Each heated stroke of her hot little mouth, the silken glide of her delicate fingers, lanced his balls with heat. His shaft throbbed furiously as her mouth destroyed him with each sweet draw, with each stroke of her fingers and lash of her tongue.