The Wedding Rescue, Book Five(7)

“Nope.”

“Fine,” Dylan said. “Axel’s guy sat on the hotel after they dealt with Steven. About an hour after Axel left, Steven came out, got in your car and drove to an empty parking lot behind a salvage yard. Axel’s guy watched to see what was going to happen.”

“And?” I asked.

“And two guys who work for Tsepov showed up. Steven tried to give them your car as part of the payment. They beat on him for a while, then took him and your car somewhere.”

“So they have my car?” That sucked. I needed my car.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dylan said. “I’m getting you another one.”

“What?” I would have screeched it, but I was laughing at the same time. Dylan was nuts. Even if this was the beginning of a relationship instead of a fling, which I wasn’t sure it was, he couldn’t go around spending all this money on me. Ignoring both my protest and my giggles, he turned his head to kiss my temple.

“That car wasn’t you.”

“It was practical. Efficient. I’m practical and efficient.”

“You make yourself sound boring,” Dylan said. This time, he was the one laughing.

“I am boring.”

“Trust me. You’re not boring. And you might be practical and efficient, but you’re also gorgeous, clever, fun, and unbelievably sexy. Not a woman who should be driving a beige sedan.”

“You’re insane,” I said. He didn’t answer. Not in words. Instead, he took the mug of coffee from my hands, set it on the table, and kissed me. I didn’t even try to resist. Since the moment I’d met Dylan, I’d been overwhelmed, confused, and undeniably drawn to him. My analytical brain always wanted an answer for everything, but the rest of me wasn’t worried about the details anymore. I wanted Dylan. I wanted this; his mouth on mine, and his strong hands pulling me close.





4





Leigha




I shifted to face him and kissed him back, burying my hands in his thick hair. We’d had so many different kisses. Rushed kisses. Demanding kisses. Hungry kisses. This kiss was slow. Easy. As if we had all the time in the world. And maybe we did. I was the one who kept thinking about the expiration date on this arrangement. Was it time to let go and just enjoy what we had? I moved again, bracing a foot on the floor so I could turn and straddle Dylan. I was tired of worrying about what all of this meant. For once, I was going to relax and enjoy.

I settled onto his lap, my robe parting in the front, exposing my breasts. Dylan’s hands found them immediately, his fingers stroking and twisting my nipples, sending sparks of arousal straight between my legs. We’d had sex an hour before, and I was ready again. So was he. His thick cock rose up, only the thin cotton of his boxers between us. I pushed into him, his groan of pleasure making me even hotter. It gave me a rush knowing that I could do this to him. That Dylan Kane was this hard for me.

Breaking our kiss, he tipped me back, supporting my weight as he dropped his mouth to my breast. Suddenly, at the sucking heat, the tease of his tongue, I was no longer willing to take my time.

I gasped for breath and ground my pussy down onto his hard length. With one hand, I groped for the opening in his boxers. If I could just drag them down a little bit, he’d be mine. Realizing what I was up to, he grabbed my wrist and tucked my arm gently behind my back, careful of my stitches even in the midst of our rising passion.

“Not yet,” he said, his lips moving against my sensitive nipple in a caress. “I’ve been wondering if you’re one of those women who can come from having her nipples sucked. Now I want to find out.”

My pussy heated at the thought. I hadn’t even known that was possible, but if he thought it was, I was willing to give it a try. Arching my back a little more, I nudged his lips with one nipple. Dylan gave it a hard, long suck, the pressure transforming into sharp need. I squirmed against him, unable to stay still as he moved from one breast to the other.

“I wish I had clamps for these,” Dylan said, pinching both nipples at the same time.

I looked at the hard, deep pink tips caught by his fingers. I’d never worn nipple clamps, but I wished he had some too. If they felt anywhere near as good as his fingers, I’d love them. The spanking had opened up a whole new world. I’d never imagined pain could bring so much pleasure. Dylan’s mouth returned to my breast, his lips drawing hard, his fingers working my other nipple with a squeezing pressure that might have hurt if I hadn’t been so turned on.

My nipples had a direct line to my clit, each pinch and suck arrowing between my legs as if Dylan was touching me there and not solely focused on my sensitized breasts. I writhed against him, my empty pussy clenching, desperate for his cock. It was building, an orgasm unlike any I’d had before. From a distance, I heard my moans rise. The scrape of Dylan’s teeth dragged a gasp from my throat.