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The Two and the Proud(7)

By:Heather Long


“Keep them there.” He drew her earlobe back into his mouth and sucked on it. Shivers raced over her body and her nipples tightened further. He licked and nipped a path down the column of her throat, punctuating each stop with a word. “Don’t. Let. Go.”

He kissed her nipples again, licking swirling circles of pleasure around them then nibbled a bit at the curves of her breasts and dipped down to her belly button. Her belly quivered at the feathery touches of his lips to her flesh. She dug her fingers into the pillow, gripping it tighter the lower he traveled. When he slid his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her legs, she groaned.

Warm breath tickled the inside of her thigh. “Not letting go, are we?”

“No.” The single word came out as a growl between her teeth. He chuckled and showered warm, wet kisses along the inside of her thigh. He took his time, lingering at sensitive areas each time her hips bucked in an invitation. Her sex clenched in anticipation. Fumbling with the pillow, she nearly pulled her hands free, but he looked up the length of her body as though sensing the decision and their gazes clashed.

“Don’t.” One word.

One order.

And her body went liquid with need. She unclenched her hands and forced them to stay beneath the pillow. He slid forward and draped her legs over his shoulders and cupped her ass. It was torture, sheer, unmitigated torture—his hot mouth closed over her clit and she moaned. He sucked, drove her insane as the unbearable tension mounted inside her. Stroking his tongue along the length of her labia, he stabbed it inside her once in a provocative tease.

“You’re killing me,” she complained. She couldn’t hold still, even as he dug his fingers into her ass, firming his grip.

“Shh….” He whispered the command, but thrummed her clit until she nearly pitched over the edge. When he pulled back at the last moment, she got pissed. Tipping her head up, she glared down at him.

“Dammit, Marine. If you don’t put something inside me in a minute, I’ll scream.”

Rowdy grinned at her, a lazy, heart-flopping smile, bathing her passion in sweetness. “Is this what you want?” He drew one hand from beneath her ass and then a finger slid inside of her. It wasn’t much, but her eager body jerked to meet it, clamping down greedily as he gently thrust in and out.

“How’s that?” The droll humor barely disguised the husky need in his voice, but she writhed against the tension pulling at her.

“Yes.” Close…so close.

He bit down on the inside of her thigh—a sensitive spot and electricity zapped through her. She came in a rush, riding his fingers as he continued the rhythmic thrusts. When the lightning dimmed to quivers of pleasure, he slowed his fingers. She looked up to find him watching her, his sweet lips curved into the most beautiful smile.

The low light from the lamp haloed behind his head and the gaze locked on hers felt dark and hot. A fresh shiver of anticipation raced through her. “Better?” he murmured.

“Almost.”

“Oh, only almost?” He drew his fingers out, dragging them over the sensitive flesh, stroking around her clit, but not quite touching it. “Did I forget something?”

She gripped the pillow, tempted to throw it at him. The hard points of her nipples ached. Pleasure still danced through her blood and as good as an orgasm…. “More, please.”

“More.” His grin curved higher. “And you said please.”

“Yes, sir. Now give me more.” She feasted on the sight of his chest, surprised—and delighted—to see the sheen of sweat on his brow and glistening on his arms. He was nowhere near as unaffected and calm as he played it. “Unless we’re done with the keep-my-hands-still part?”

He slid off the bed and free of her legs. She couldn’t quite read the expression on his face, but his chest rose and fell rapidly. The veins in his arms popped above the muscles. She dragged one foot up the bed lazily, thighs parted. When his gaze fell to her sex and he moistened his lips, she smiled.

Definitely not in as much control as he wants me to think. He wanted her and the naked heat of his desire nudged her own need back into overdrive. Long seconds passed while he stared at her. A muscle ticked in his jaw and his breath echoed noisily as he exhaled. Finally, he shook his head as though breaking a trance. He pulled a foil-wrapped condom out of his pocket and his jeans hit the floor. It was her turn to lick her lips. His erection was full and a droplet decorated the tip. She wanted to lick her way from base to tip—what a tequila chaser he would make.

He slid the condom on slowly and, the hell of it was, the action only served to turn her on more. She rubbed her thighs together and lifted her hips, half in invitation and the other half in demand. But he didn’t rush. Smoothing the condom into place, he gave himself a firm stroke and her pulse seemed to double.