“Let me kiss you,” he muttered, lifting his hands towards her as she moved to stand between his gently spread legs.
As much as she wanted him to, she couldn’t let that happen yet. “Soon. I want to kiss you first.”
And she did. Along the breath of his shoulders, down the plane of his chest, to each nipple. She licked down the line of hair that led to his jutting cock.
And then she licked that.
So good. She wrapped her hand round the base of him and licked again.
Damn it. She was never going to get enough. She moaned and pressed close, needed to kiss him—to taste.
“You’re feeling okay?” he asked.
“Of course I am.” She pumped her hand down his shaft. “You’re the one covered in bruises.” She paused to look up at him, then rose on her knees, gently brushing her lips over the ugly markings again.
“I was worried about you,” he muttered.
“I’m fine.”
“I can see that.” He shuddered as she tightened her grip on him. “You’re gorgeous.”
“So are you.”
He grunted a rough laugh. “I was joking about the reward…” he breathed harshly. “You don’t have to—”
He broke off as she bent and ran her tongue from the root of his cock all the way to the slit at the tip.
“Shut up,” she told him bluntly. “I want to. I want to see all of your body. Taste all of it.”
She needed to kiss, to touch, to tease. So she did—sweeping open-mouthed kisses over him, spreading light strokes of her fingertips over his straining skin.
“Savannah,” he breathed. “You need to stop that.”
She lifted her head, let her hands keep stroking. “Just shut up and come.”
“That’s what you want?”
“As much as you do.”
His lips twisted. “You have no fucking idea how much I want. If you did, you wouldn’t be—” he broke off with a groan.
She sucked him in as deep as she could. Working her hands as well, she sucked and pulled.
So delicious. So big. And in this moment, hers.
She felt the restless, uncontrolled rhythm of his hips increase. Felt the tension coiling within him. So she moved faster. Sucked harder. As fast and as hard as she liked it herself—ruthlessly efficient.
Passionate.
He thrust his hands in her hair, mussing it as he arched up in release.
“Oh. Yessssssssss.” He hissed as his pleasure spurted into her throat. He groaned. “Hurts so good.”
He fell back on the sofa, breathing hard. “I can’t… Thank you.” He groaned again. “Wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
“Says who?” She stood up in front of him. “Wasn’t this meant to be what I wanted? That was what I wanted.”
“That wasn’t all you wanted.” He sat up a little and eyeballed her. He suddenly moved, shackling her wrists with his big hands.
She glanced down at them pointedly. “What are you doing?”
“Inviting you to sit on the sofa with me” He tugged on her wrists.
Weak-kneed woman that she was, she sat.
As soon as she did, he moved. Standing, turning, straddling until he knelt on the sofa, one knee either side of her. Her mouth parted, Savannah could only gaze upon the very hot, very naked man holding himself above her lap.
He was hard again. She should have known he’d be that resilient and have the stamina of an athlete.
He ran his finger down the side of her neck. “Your hair is always so perfect, even when you wear it loose. I like messing it up.”
Her breasts tightened. She swallowed.
He smiled.
And he touched, gentle sweeps over her shoulders, then her breasts. She wanted him to move faster.
He smiled again. Bent and kissed—not her mouth, but her neck. She blew out a tense breath, tilted her head. Wanted more.
He slid his hand beneath the waistband of her skirt. Beneath the waistband of her panties. She shifted, trying to give him room to go lower, to curl into her curves.
She felt his smile as he kissed up and down her neck in a way designed to send her insane.
“You want me inside you?” he asked her.
Tempted her.
More than anything. But she couldn’t. She’d want too much. Be too tempted to take everything he could offer and still want more.
“Your tongue,” she requested. Heat burned her cheeks. “Kiss me.”
She’d meant him to kiss her mouth. She was so close to getting off even with just the pressure of his palm on her mound.
But he carefully rolled. Sliding down to the floor to kneel where she’d knelt earlier, he reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down.
Hell, it was a sexy sight. All that strong, naked man before her? Peeling her clothing away to expose her to him?
He glanced up at her and smiled like he knew she was getting off on the sight of him again.
He kissed up her thigh. Hot, lush, hungry kisses. “How wet am I going to find you, Sugar? How hot are you already?”
So hot.
He lashed her intimate curve with his tongue and groaned in delight. “That wet.” He licked her again. “That’s good. But it can be better. Let’s make it better. Ride my tongue, Sugar,” he muttered quick and rough. “Ride hard.”
So she did, rocking fast to match the rhythm he suddenly set.
Always fast and hard with him.
Savannah clawed the soft cushions beside her, stopping herself from reaching out to grab him. But her hips lifted, bucking into his face until he firmly gripped her hip, holding her still enough so he could keep the slippery onslaught of his hot mouth. Then he added his fingers to her torment. And she had no chance. She threw her head back.
“I want to kiss you too,” she cried out. She needed something to do. Some kind of action. “I need to—”
To have some control over this. All the control.
“69” she called desperately. “Now.”
The bastard just chuckled. “You want to suck me off some more? You didn’t get enough already?”
No. And that’s what she was afraid of. That she’d never get enough of his body.
“I don’t trust you just at this moment, Sugar.” He laughed again, his hot breath tickling her sex. “You’re so close to losing it, you might bite.”
She arched up, a raw cry ripping from her throat as he pumped his fingers deeper into her. “If you dare stop, I will.”
He bent and worked his tongue again.
And Savannah was gone.
One blinding orgasm later, she was so warm and so relaxed. But hunger licked. Needling her. It would roar to life in less than a minute.
Which meant it was time for her to move.
Chapter Twelve
“Crawl into my arms and let me make you come again, Sugar.” Connor reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist. “I won’t go inside you, unless you ask me to. I’ll just tease.” He wanted to touch her some more. Hold her close, properly. As glorious as the last twenty minutes had been, they weren’t enough.
“No. I’m tired. It’s time for you to leave.” She twisted her arm, freeing herself from his loose hold.
He watched as she stood and walked away from him, pulling her skirt back down.
She’d not even been naked.
He hauled himself to his feet and carefully started to dress. Satisfied—yes, in part. But he was wholly stunned. Having her on her knees totally hadn’t been how he’d imagined this night would go. He’d thought she’d take, instead, she’d sought to satisfy him first.
It was unexpectedly sweet. And so damn sexy.
“You’re satisfied?” he asked, cupping her jaw as she stood by the door, so pointedly waiting for him to leave.
But he wasn’t quite ready to.
She nodded. “And tired. Goodbye.”
She shut the conversation down. No post-coital cuddles wanted, huh? Nor any sleepy, intimate conversation. But like she didn’t want more sex?
He’d heard her moan as he’d licked inside her. He’d tasted her wet heat. And he’d watched the way her fingers had curled into the cushions.
She’d been holding herself back.
He’d rather have born her scratches on his back. He’d rather she pulled him into her with the ferocity she’d shown the other night. He’d wanted to feel her raw, abandoned passion again.
And he’d wanted to be inside her more than he’d ever wanted anything. Still did.
He was more than happy to stand for her. To be the stud and provide the physical release she needed. Because he needed it too. He’d denied himself too long. But now he wanted to take the pleasure everyone else did and he needed a woman who was his match. As strong. As determined. This battle had the edge he needed. That she wouldn’t let him inside her showed just how strong she was. Because she’d wanted him, badly. Breathlessly.
Yet she was resisting it.
And he wasn’t about to take what she wasn’t willing or ready to give.
Something had changed. It wasn’t that she knew who he was. It was something else. He didn’t know what. But he’d find out.
“You want me to send a car for you in the morning?” he asked.
She sent him one of her best iced-up looks.
“I’ll fetch you myself but we might get… distracted… again before getting there,” he winked.
“I can make my own way.”
Of course she could.
“Great,” he smiled at her, knowing it would antagonise her. “You’re going to love it.”