Moments later she withdrew. The muscles in his shoulders ached. His erection had been tight and full for so long that the pain of arousal had muted to a burning fire that engulfed his entire lower body. He tried to regulate his breathing. Used an old relaxation technique from his college days when he’d been constantly horny and unable to sleep. Nothing worked.
The agony of his need for her surpassed his self-control. He was ready to cry uncle when, suddenly, he felt the brush of her lips on his sex and she took him in her mouth all the way to the root.
“Damn it, damn it…” He pumped wildly, his hands grabbing at her head, anchoring in her hair, as he exploded. His release went on and on for seconds, minutes, aeons. Winnie, instinctive in her innocence, sucked him gently, even as he came, turning him inside out and leaving him weak as a baby with her head lying on his chest.
“Turn on the light,” he croaked.
She traced a fingernail on his flat belly. “No.” She had yet to touch him with her hands. Not where he wanted it the most.
“This isn’t up for debate. I want the lights on. Now.”
Her fist closed around his limp shaft, shocking it to life with a million volts of power. He groaned, insanely out of control. “I’ll do it myself.” It was an empty threat.
The humor in her voice called his bluff. “No, you won’t.” Gently she learned the rhythm that hardened him, that made his aching flesh ready for more. He wanted to grab her and take what was his. But he had promised her the driver’s seat, and some last thread of honor kept him docile beneath her torture.
Nothing she had done so far was out of the ordinary. Only her shy enthusiasm and his growing hunger for intimacy with her transformed the night into a fantasy. He was resigned now to being blind. Lord help him when he made love to her with the lights on. The sensory overload might turn him into a slobbering maniac.
Gradually, his shaft returned to full attention. His recent release had only taken the edge off his hunger. When Winnie ran her finger across the drop of fluid that signaled his readiness, he sensed her leaning back on her haunches. “Okay,” she said, her voice breathless. “You can do it now.”
“Do what?” In his current state, he couldn’t decipher the riddle.
“You know…make love to me.” Even in the dark he could detect her embarrassment at having to say it out loud.
He chuckled hoarsely, winded and panting. “Oh, no, baby. You’ve done everything right so far. Climb on top of me and take what you want.”
Thirteen
Winnie barely recognized herself. Begging for darkness had been a stroke of genius on her part, because it had allowed her to explore without Larkin’s knowing gaze tracking her every movement. But now he’d laid out the ultimate challenge.
She thought of the size of him and her long dry spell. A technical loss of virginity a decade ago hadn’t prepared her for sexual acrobatics with Larkin Wolff. He was big and hungry and nowhere close to being satisfied if the thickness of his sex was any indication.
The silence lengthened. With the bed hangings pulled shut, the air had grown moist with their breathing, almost uncomfortably warm. But turning on the light was something she couldn’t manage. Not yet. Climb on top of me and take what you want. Larkin’s arrogant demand sparked her indignation. Did he really think she wouldn’t have the guts?