by Lynda Aicher
“I like it.” She skimmed her nails over his nipples, the sharp edges sending jolts racing south to his hardening erection. He sucked in a breath, and she repeated the action, scraping back and forth until they were both hard, sensitized nubs.
“I like that,” he almost purred, arching into her touch. Holy hell. How come no woman had ever touched his nipples before? He knew to play with hers, but the return had never happened.
Her smile sizzled over his skin when he focused back on her, chest heaving. “Sit,” she ordered, nodding to the bed. He complied without question. He really would do anything for her. Especially if it meant she’d do more of that. Whatever that turned out to be.
His ass had barely hit the mattress before she had his face in her hands, her mouth on his. Fuck yes. She took what she wanted, lips hitting his with strokes and demands he opened to. His groan vibrated from his chest as her tongue swept in to find his. Mint and spice tumbled down his throat, and he chased her tongue, wanting more.
He tugged her hips down, urged her onto his lap so he could feel her, stroke his palms up her back and keep her there. The music thrummed with this heart, both heavy and light.
The kiss pulled him deeper, hot swirls of desire that spiraled down his spine to twist in his groin and whimper for more.
More.
This was more than he’d ever had, and they’d only begun.
She cut away to lift from his lap before he could catch her. His eyes sprang open, breath labored, arms empty. The loss was a fist to his gut.
Her eyes were heated when he focused on them. Her smile sexy as hell.
She held his gaze as she gripped the hem of her sweatshirt and lifted it over her head. His focus went directly to her chest. Rounded curves under a white tank, nipples teasing the material with two small bumps. The gentle line of her cleavage triggered his imagination. He itched to reach for her breasts, fondle and play until she cried out in pleasure.
He was already following through before she stopped him. He jerked his head up, questioning even as she pushed his hands back.
“I’m not done.” The sultry note in her voice countered the upbeat alto belting from the speakers.
This really was her show. All right. He leaned back, legs spread around her thighs, and let her lead. His erection pressed a solid line against his jeans, but the discomfort was nothing compared to the pleasure building deep within him.
“Stop thinking,” she said, fingers grazing past his temple. “Stop fretting.” Those fingers traced his lips, lingered over the curve in his upper lip. “I’ve got this.”
“I believe you.” He had no doubt about that.
She slipped off her tank, revealing a basic white bra. No lace or bows, colors or push-up padding involved. Nothing but her beneath the cotton material.
He swallowed when she reached behind her, the bra sagging before she lowered her arms and slipped it off. Her creamy mounds swayed with the movement, and he fisted the duvet to keep his hands in place. He feasted with his eyes, took in the coral nipples puckered and waiting, the fuller undersides that lifted them up.
His tongue snaked out, the urge to taste them a demanding need.
He lifted his gaze past the red scar midway up her chest to where the ridge of her collarbone met at her throat, on to the graceful line of her neck to her round chin and red lips. Her eyes were dark with the same desire that burned in him.
A part of him wanted to dive in and take everything before it was gone, while the other part was so damn happy she was going slowly. It gave him time to lock in every moment so he could remember them when she left.
She urged him to sit up, cupped his head in her hands, chest lifting in offering. Or was it an order? It didn’t matter to him. He gladly went where she guided, straight to the very place he was just ogling.
Her nipple was hard yet soft beneath his tongue, the saltiness perfect. He dared to cup the weight in his palm, lifted it to draw the tip deeper. Her low moan was the permission he waited for. He dove into his task, sucking until she cried out, needling with his teeth then licking it with long strokes and light swirls. He easily moved to the other one when she directed him there, giving it the same attention.
His pulse raced and blended with the rush of blood in his head, or was that the music? It wound around them, formed an intimate cocoon as she pushed then urged him onto the bed.
He slid back, mesmerized by the heady power that flowed from her. She crawled over him, hand smoothing up his thigh, skimming past the bulge of his erection, tracking the waistband of his jeans then around his navel.
“This is all mine.”
The statement didn’t require an answer or confirmation from him. They both knew it was true. He was all hers.
“Whatever you want,” he murmured.
The wet trace of her tongue around his navel sucked the last of the air from his lungs. His hips bucked, gut clenched and his groan burst into the room to tumble over them.
“I want this.” Her sultry demand was timed with the firm clench of her hand around his rock-hard dick. Holy… He lurched up, abs curling to absorb the impact of her touch. He dropped back, panting. And he still had his pants on.
“Take it,” he urged, fumbling with the snap on his jeans. “Please.”
Her chuckle was deep and suggestive. She grabbed his hands and set them back on the bed, straddling his hips to loom over him. Her hair fell forward to drape across her shoulder.
“I want to do this,” she insisted, serious. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” Not an ounce of hesitation.
“Then let me.” She moved his hands over his head until they knocked the headboard. “I want to explore.” She trailed a hand down his arm, a path of heat burning behind. “Discover everything.” The pinch and twist to his nipple was unexpected and sharp. His grunt was instantaneous as fire shot deep into his chest then spread out in a blaze of desire.
His hips snapped up, legs tensing until she released her hold. His gulp of relief was quickly swallowed by her mouth, tongue slashing in to steal what remained of his breath. There was no room for thoughts or dissent.
He simply went, gave and let go for her.
Chapter Eight
Jacqui drew back, panting with the rush of power and lust racing through her.
Henrik’s hands were still over his head, all of him opened to her. She’d felt the shift, the loosening of muscles and doubts as his hips dropped back to the mattress. It was intoxicating and bordering on overwhelming, but she wasn’t backing down. Or out. This was working for him. Her. Them.
Whatever it was.
Her arm trembled until she locked her elbow to hold herself up. His lips drew her again, that delicate arch that could flatten and dip with his moods. Right now it was plump over a slightly open mouth, relaxed and perfect beneath her finger.
“This is unexpected on you,” she said.
“What?” His lips barely moved beneath her touch. His eyes had deepened to a forest green that spoke of dark secrets, but he wasn’t hiding from her right now.
“Everything,” she whispered before dipping to plant a gentle kiss on him.
Need and desire welled up to ram at her heart. She couldn’t let this go too far. Become too attached. Not now. Not before…
She ducked her head to lick over his abused nipple, tongued, nipped and sucked until he squirmed beneath her. Focus on this. Right now. She dropped down, pelvis landing on his in a hard grind that shuddered through her abdomen. Her eyes fell closed, longing bursting from her core to urge her on.
How long had it been since she’d had sex?
Never like this.
And they still had their pants on.
That had to change.
He sucked in a huge breath when she moved lower, kisses and licks leaving a wet trail to his abs. She’d been right in her guess. He was incredibly fit. Solid muscle but not sculpted. God, she loved it.
Knowing he was all hers to explore and discover, that he’d given h
imself to her, was… She didn’t have a word for it.
There was a long scar under his ribs that she traced with the tip of her tongue, another near his oblique that she kissed. He had scars like her. Visual stories of past pain that he carried with him.
Would she learn about them? Know if they still hurt?
The snap on his jeans gave away with a soft pop, almost missed under the flow of the music. Just like his stuttered inhale.
Salt teased her tongue, flowed down her throat when she sucked on the patch of skin revealed beneath his open fly. Light wisps of crisp hair curled under her tongue, and the heavy musk of aroused male slammed into her. Her muscles clenched, want building in a sweet fire that laced up to harden her nipples even more.
“Damn,” Henrik breathed, hips jerking, knees bending to open for her. “Jacqui.”
She glanced up his length, catching his heavy stare. His arms were still folded above his head, one hand gripping the opposite wrist, his chest pulled tight in a display of power and submission.
Her breath hitched at that word, then she let it go. Let all her doubts go and went back to feeling. Doing.
His erection was hard and full beneath his jeans, running up his lower abdomen toward his waist. That deserved all of her focus.
She mouthed the length, clenching the mass between her lips while her teeth skimmed over the material. A deep rumble rolled from his chest to tumble down her back and curl her toes. His knees dropped open farther, urging her on.
His balls were full and firm when she cupped her hand over them, the seam of his jeans pressing into her palm.
“I’m going to come in my pants,” he gritted out, the warning ringing true.
She chuckled against his hip. “But I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Bullshit.” His disagreement was steeped with raw hunger.
Her laughter died on that note, the fever returning to her own need. “Then we should remove these.” She tugged on his waistband. He lifted his hips, and she had his jeans and briefs shoved down to his knees before she stopped, eyes trapped on his exposed erection.
Damn…could a dick be beautiful? She’d never thought that before, but that plowed through her stupefied brain. Thick and proportioned to his size, the base was nestled in dark curls and capped by a plump, ruby head.
Jeans forgotten, she leaned down to follow the heavy vein that spidered up the exposed underside. The velvety texture played under her tongue until she reached the rim of the head. Her moan was unexpected but truthful. He tasted forbidden and inviting at once.
“Jac—”
His strangled cry broke off when she sucked him into her mouth. He filled it completely, her lips stretching to fit his girth. She couldn’t take much without gagging, but she sucked the head and worked her tongue around the ridge, flicking over the spot that caused him to gasp and twitch.
She wasn’t the most experienced at this, but she took her cues from him. She repeated the quick dips and sucks along with the teasing probes at the hole on top, rolled his heavy sac in her palm until he was panting and groaning beneath her.
“Please, Jac.” He thrust up, gasping when she stroked his length. “I want to come so damn…” His dazed, pleading gaze met hers. “With you.”
The music poured in to pound out the need that pulsed between them. Her heart beat in double time to the defined rhythm, urging her to move. She met his stare as she slowly trailed one long lick up him. His hitch of breath, contraction of muscles, fed her even more. His fingers were white around his wrist where he still held it, his pose unchanged.
That he hadn’t faltered in his gift to her almost undid her.
Need, want, lust and power collided with the fear and longing that grew too large within her. Her stomach constricted with the clench of her chest as she thrust backward off the bed.
Not letting herself think or dwell, she grabbed his jeans and stripped him naked. There was a moment when she reveled in the full reveal of the confusing man who’d stumbled into her life. Legs spread, arms lifted, he stared back with passion-heavy eyes. His true strength was captured in his thighs and calves, thick with muscle that said how easily he could overpower her. Take her.
Her swallow was heavy with hunger and renewed determination. He was hers. Right here—now—he was hers to have and treasure.
“Grab a condom,” she managed to say. Her hands shook as she undid her jeans and discarded them with her underwear. She was wet and ready for him, so beyond ready. Her heart kicked at the thought of sliding onto him, feeling him stretch and fill her.
He was rolling back, condom and a bottle of lube lifted in his hand when she kneeled on the bed. He froze, gaze blazing over her. “Here.”
Still submitting to her. What did it mean that she loved it? Reveled in the added heat that rushed from her chest to build in her core?
“Open it,” she said, taking the unneeded lube and tossing it aside.
He tracked the discarded bottle before using his teeth to open the condom. She took it from him and straddled his thighs to grip his cock. Just holding it brought a rumble of anticipation from his chest.
His back arched, hips flexing as she rolled the condom down him. His thighs bunched beneath her spread legs, teasing her sex with what he held back. How wild would it be if he let all that power go? On her?
Her hand spasmed around his cock, their groans battling where they clashed into each other before getting lost in the bass streaming in from the other room.
She closed her eyes, the music flowing into her to feed the moment. Heavy, rolling, consuming, it shoved away everything but the now.
His eyes were still on her, dark and wanting, when she lifted her eyelids. She was trapped by the intensity as she crawled forward to sit on his erection. God. Her head dropped back, his thick length heating her crease. She swiveled her hips, letting his dick roll under her until it rubbed on her clit.
“Yes.” The breathy exclamation fell from her lips. He found her rhythm, hips rocking to meet her slow grind. It was so good, the steady rise of her orgasm spreading through her limbs with each dip and rub.
“Jacqui.” He smoothed his palms up her thighs, heat spreading to enflame her skin, but it didn’t compare to the fire that smoldered in his eyes. “Take me.”
That was a plea she had no power to resist.
She lifted, and he held his cock for her to slide onto. The breach and glide down washed through her on a slow sigh. He filled and stretched her in a delicious rush of potent sensation. Her moan rose deep from her chest to burst out in a cry of pure pleasure.
Sweat dampened her nape, the fierce need to finish rising so quickly she shuddered at the force of it. His hips bucked, and she undulated on him, riding the wave before she started her own pace. Long, slow glides that stoked the fire threatening to burn out of control.
He was breathtaking beneath her. Lips parted, eyes heavy, still giving to her. It was stunning. Almost impossible to believe.
The overwhelming sense of being out of her depth pounded in her chest and latched on to her mind to question and probe, dig until the doubt clawed at her throat. But then she focused on the desire and want in his eyes, the bridled strength caged beneath her that he so willingly offered. That empowered instead of derailed her.
She dove forward to take his mouth, claim him and all that he offered. The kiss was sloppy and heated, tongues stroking between nips and scrambled breaths that left her pulse racing and her head dizzy.
“Touch me,” she murmured, lips grazing over his ear. “Everywhere.” Hold me. Feel me.
“Yes,” he rumbled, palms running up her arms to race down her back. “Yes.”
His touch was everywhere. On her hips, up her sides, across her shoulders and nape. It burned into her bones, chased away everything but him.
She straightened, his hands following her up to cup her breasts. Her head fell back, hips lifting and rocking faster with the building rush of her climax. He plucked at her nipples, sizzling prickles shooting
straight to her sex. His leg hair tickled her palms when she braced herself, arching impossibly more.
The music changed, slowed to one of her favorite songs. The words rode her mind, drove her forward to stare down at him. Her pulse hammered at her neck and her hair tumbled forward to drape over her arm in a wild mess that reminded her of how alive she was.
Free, whole and here.
The same passion was locked in his eyes, in the contorted press of his lips and pull of his brow. He was right there with her.
“So close,” she whispered, more to herself, thighs burning from the workout. It only added to the moment, to the rush that was winding tighter and tighter.
She grabbed his hand, pressed his thumb on her clit. He pushed, rubbed and found a pace that sent her flying. Her orgasm crashed outward, bursting from her in a tensing of muscles and flash of blinding heat.
Her cry blew over the music, bounced off the walls and came back. She gasped, shuddered and was just finding her bearings when Henrik grabbed her hips, thrust up once, twice and ground into her with a roar.
Chin thrown back, teeth clenched, tendons straining in his neck—he was all power and strength. She could so clearly see the athlete right now. Raw and exposed, yet still contained beneath her. Within her.
The high of her orgasm softened with the tenderness that reached in to grasp at her heart. For all of his gruffness, he’d had no problem giving her the control and power she hadn’t even known she’d needed.
He gasped, bucked one last time then sagged to the mattress, chest heaving with each breath.
So, so incredible.
What am I going to do with him?
*
Henrik clutched Jacqui to his chest, her weight welcomed. She was heaven in his arms. He nuzzled her hair, inhaling sex and flowers. The music flowed in from the other room, intrusive now. Her breath warmed his neck with each exhale that was slowly returning to normal, like his.
That had been… He had no word. Amazing? Mind-blowing? Nothing seemed adequate.
Sweat clung to his skin, and his softening dick was on the sad verge of slipping out of her heat. He didn’t want to move but…
