Watch Me Fall(39)

“Riding me.”

God, she couldn’t even wait to get this man under her, to get him inside her. “I think I can make that a reality for you.”

“I want to see you,” he breathed into her mouth.

She wanted that too, so much. It was so dark. “See me, then.” But the few seconds he was away clicking on the lamp were agonizing. Soft, warm light flooded the room, highlighting the outer curves of his muscles and becoming lost in the dips and recesses of his body. He looked edible—she probably looked a hot mess with bedhead and her nightshirt pushed haphazardly up her body. Before he could lie down again, she sat up and trailed her mouth down his taut abdomen while he was still on his knees, following the line of dark hair to the waistband of his pajama pants. His breath hissed in; his hand drifted down on the top of her head, soothing, encouraging, nothing of force or selfishness in its weight.

Oh yes, this was what she’d wanted, what she’d hoped for since seeing him at her door tonight. Gently tugging his pants down, she took great joy in watching the waistband hang on his hard cock, even greater joy in watching the latter spring free, thick and gorgeous and all for her. Wrapping a hand around the base, she angled the head toward her lips, listening for his reaction with every touch. Her heart sang in triumph with each groan and growl he uttered. She wanted to drive him crazy, push all memories of any past love out of his head and heart for good, so that there was only room for her. One day, if they didn’t work out, she would be the one he couldn’t get over. She would be the one who haunted his heart, whom he compared every other woman to. It seemed cruel to wish that on someone, but if only they could last forever, it would be beautiful.

She stroked and teased, licked and sucked, showing him everything in her bag of tricks until sweat broke out on him, and she finally pulled him so deep down her throat, her air cut off and his hands fisted in her hair, and he seemed to want to pull her away but couldn’t make himself. Her name falling in rough ecstasy from his lips was the most precious sound she’d ever heard. More, she wanted more of him. Clenching her fingers in the firm muscles of his ass, she pushed him even deeper. Her pussy ached in response, jealous of her mouth getting all the fun.

Suddenly, he pushed her away and fell back on one hand, the most gorgeous creation on God’s green earth with his cock even bigger and harder now and an angry red from the suction of her mouth. She expected him to come, but he didn’t—he was only catching his breath. “Fuck, Starla,” he rasped, then exhaled long and deep, his mouth forming a sexy O.

She winked at him, lying back with her knees spread wide. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Fuck Starla. Fuck her now.”

“Oh, baby. If I go in now, I won’t last three seconds.”

“I don’t care.”

His gaze was hot and heavy on the scrap of fabric between her legs. She felt that look, felt her body’s reaction to it as if it were a physical caress he gave her. “I do,” he said. When he pushed her knees apart and dove in, she nearly came off the bed. Heated breath rushed over her damp panties, tickled her inner thighs. He licked her and sucked her, leaving that cotton panel as a barrier between them, getting it wetter. She reached down to move it out of his way, to feel the slick heat of that tongue. He grabbed her hand and held it fast, his grip as good as iron. The same fate met her other hand when it wandered down—really she’d just wanted to be held down by him, helpless, dominated. Her thighs pressed wide by his broad shoulders, her arms immobile, she was dying of denied pleasure.

“Please!” she cried. His tongue slipped in the side of her panties, and her hips wrenched up. But he only went back to doing what he did before: teasing, denying her, driving her mad. And she’d wanted to drive him crazy? He went down better than any other man she’d ever met in her life. Only when she rested her ass on the mattress again did he give her another little taste, nosing her panties aside and tickling her piercing until her chest heaved. He liked that view, she thought, watching him watch her.

“If I let you go,” he murmured, the vibrations of his voice going deep in her cunt, sending out little rivers of electricity through her body, “will you be good?”

“I’ll fucking show you good,” she all but snarled.

“That’ll do.”

He released her hands. Snatched her panties aside. The keening cry she released when his tongue dipped into her pussy was fucking embarrassing, and she was helpless again. Liquid, she was liquid between her legs, thick and hot, and so was he, tonguing her deep. Then he withdrew, and she whimpered.

“I love how you taste,” he growled. “I love how you smell.” His fingertip trailed over her VCH piercing. “I love this.”

“Do you?” Her voice shook.

“Hell yes.”

“I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Haven’t you figured it out? I love everything about you.” From between her legs, his blue eyes burned up at her.

Is he going to say it? He can’t say it. Not yet. I’ve never said the words. I don’t think I can now. Even if I think…

But no. His mouth went back to her. The time for teasing and denying her was over. This was a deliberate siege laid upon her body, and her orgasm was his prize, and all he had to do was encircle her throbbing clit with his lips and suck until she shattered, shouting so loud she crammed a fist to her mouth to keep from embarrassing herself. The world went away—everyone, everything. Even Jared went away. Nothing existed but her, and her body, and her pleasure. She wouldn’t know later how to thank him for that.

He didn’t stop until she was wrung out, wasted, limp and panting on his bed. But she cracked open an eye to see nothing about him was limp. Oh God. Oh…God. He was rummaging in his nightstand drawer, presumably for a condom. Any other time, she would relish watching him roll it on, but she could seriously go to sleep now. As she heard that package crinkling and Latex unfurling, she knew it wasn’t to be. This wasn’t over.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, not moving on top of her but stretching out beside her.

“Mm-hmm,” was all she could manage. Even that sounded light and airy, as if she could drift off any second. His hand stroked over her stomach, caressing lightly. She smiled, half in a dream. He touched her all over, even her arms and legs, bringing her body back to waking life after the world’s ending a few moments ago. Often, his mouth followed his hands, moving softly and damply over tattooed and unmarked skin alike. He slid her panties down her legs, again following them with kisses. He lifted one of her hands, kissing each finger. He lifted the other and did the same. Then her breasts, one and the other, his beard scratching lightly. She felt revered, worshipped.

Loved.

Her eyes opened, and she reached for him, pulling him over her. “Now? Please?” He went into her arms readily, not holding himself up but easing down over her so he could hold her close and drop kisses along her jaw and the edges of her lips. His kneed her thighs apart—oh yes, she loved that move. Something so primal about it, so possessive. She was his, and he was going to take her.

Her body wasn’t as done as she’d thought. As soon as her pussy felt the first nudge of him, she realized how slick she still was, how needy his caresses had made her. His mouth sought and found hers. His body invaded hers. One strong, slow thrust stretching her while he shuddered over her, and she cursed and clutched at his back and nearly died from the absolute fucking perfection of it.

“Starla,” he said, for the first time sounding weak and astounded. “Oh God.”

All the times before had been child’s play. She’d never thought so then, but she knew so now. Nothing, nothing had ever compared to this. It broke her heart to think nothing ever would. If he left her…

The thought was almost horrifying enough to push him away, to not take the chance. For him to strip her down to her essential being and then abandon her would be a hurt she couldn’t bear. To make her feel all these beautiful things and then deprive her of his touch forever would kill her.

Jesus, she couldn’t take it. “Jared, a few minutes ago, you made me stop thinking. Do it again. Please.” Before I decide I can’t do this with you.

He kissed her mouth, tongue gently dancing with hers as his hips picked up a devastating rhythm, not the hard, pounding fuck she’d been asking for but a strong, steady heartbeat that only shook her up more inside. Harder. Faster. Please. Not like you love me. Not like that.

But she couldn’t ask, because it was so good like this. Too good. The line was crossed, and she couldn’t go back. He was going to make her come to this sweet, intimate beat between their bodies, and she would be doomed.

“You’re thinking,” he murmured, and she realized she’d been gazing up into his disconcerting blue eyes, and he’d probably taken note of every emotion passing through her own. “I’m not doing my job.”

“Oh, you are. Keep doing it.” His hips increased their tempo, his strength reminding her that this man rode bulls and horses and whatever the fuck else. She bit her lip, pleasure furrowing her brow as the friction increased. Thank God for a man who knew how to work his hips and hit every sweet spot inside. He was driving the breath from her with every thrust but still managed to somehow be gentle, to be terrifyingly perfect. But just as she was beginning to feel the first sweet tightening of her inner muscles around him, he pulled out and sat up on his knees, taking her with him.