Brooke, Leah - Raw Desire [Desire, Oklahoma 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Leah Brooke

  Her smile fell, her eyes flashing sparks at him. “I’m fine, damn it!”

  Christ, he wanted to turn her over his lap. Her temper excited him, challenging him to take her in hand. He could have sworn he saw the dare to do so in her eyes, but decided he must have been mistaken.

  In an effort to rein his lust in, he turned his back to her, meeting her eyes in the mirror over the sink.

  “Do you mind if I shave while you’re showering?”

  Her smile fell briefly and then widened in a way he didn’t trust at all.

  “Nope. Go ahead. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  * * * *

  Alison closed the curtain and stuck her head under the water to rinse her hair one last time. Standing there with the water pouring over her, she kept sneaking glances toward where she knew Dillon stood, waiting expectantly for him to remove his shirt and reveal that gorgeous chest and muscular back.

  Sharing a bathroom had always been too intimate for her, but she had to admit she liked having Dillon there now. She wanted a chance to spend some time alone with him before Ryder got back, hoping to break through portions of that wall he kept between them.

  He seemed to be walking on eggshells around her, and she didn’t like it one bit.

  Whenever she got angry with him, raised her voice, gave him dirty looks, got smart with him, whatever, his eyes came alive with emotion, his cock tenting his pants while he clenched his hands into fists at his side.

  Each time, she held her breath, excitement coursing through her veins as she waited expectantly.

  Each time, his eyes became shuttered and that tender smile would appear again, one that made her heart trip, but that left her feeling like she’d been shut out.

  He carefully avoided looking at her nakedness, even though she’d tried to entice him with peeks of bare skin.

  She’d been offended at first, until she saw the tenting at the front of his pants and the way a muscle worked in his jaw while he stared at a point somewhere behind her. She wanted him, and she’d be damned if she let him ignore her because he stubbornly refused to believe her when she said she was okay.

  Evidently, she was not cut out to be a femme fatale.

  Right now, however, she felt good and wanted Dillon.

  Not knowing how much he could see, but imagining him seeing her when he cleared the fogged mirror to shave, she stretched, lifting her hands over her head and arching back as far as the muscles in her lower back would allow. Delighted that it felt so good, she did it again, the warm water running over her making the muscles in her back even looser.

  Dillon’s deep growl could be heard easily over the running water, followed by a clatter that sounded as though he’d dropped the razor in the sink.

  Hiding a smile, she adopted a look of innocent concern and pulled the edge of the curtain aside, carefully allowing a breast to show. Her abdomen tightened, her nipples beading with awareness when she saw that he’d removed his shirt.

  Standing at the sink wearing only a pair of jeans and with streaks of shaving cream on his face, he had to be one of the sexiest things she’d ever seen.

  And for now, at least, he was all hers.

  Blinking innocently, she frowned. “Dillon, are you all right? I thought I heard—”

  “I’m fine, damn it.” He sighed, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror as he smiled tenderly, his harsh features softening before her eyes. “Are you almost done in there, honey? I want to get cleaned up before Ryder gets back with the food.”

  Damn it, he’d done it again.

  Smiling, she nodded, not about to let him get away with it, the idea that had been forming in her mind too irresistible and naughty to ignore.

  “I’m done now. While you’re taking a shower, do you mind if I borrow your shaving cream?” She held up her razor for his inspection. “My razor has one of those strips, but I don’t think it’ll be enough to shave my mound.”

  To her delight, Dillon stilled, his eyes going wide for several seconds before he recovered. “Uh, what did you say?”

  Keeping a straight face, she swallowed a giggle before it could escape. “Dillon, would it be all right if I used your cream? It’s probably better. I’ve never done this before, and I don’t want to cut myself.”

  To her surprise, Dillon bowed his head over the sink, and in the mirror she could see that he’d closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. His hands tightened into fists on either side of the sink, and he mumbled something under his breath, something that sounded a lot like curses.

  Blowing out a breath, he straightened, opened his eyes, and turned, his jaw still tight and his hands still fisted. “Why do you want to shave your pussy now?”

  Alison shrugged, purposely allowing a nipple to show. “Ryder said something about it, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Since I seem to be having a wild affair with two men, why not go all the way?”

  Blowing out a breath, he smiled, his smile not as tender as before and hard with tension.

  “Why not, indeed? Turn the water off.”

  Alison blinked as he came closer and hurried to do his bidding. As soon as the water had been turned off, he shoved the shower curtain aside and reached for her, a dry towel flung over his shoulder.

  “Dillon, what are you doing?”

  He wrapped the towel around her and grabbed another from the shelf over the toilet and started to pat her dry.

  “I’ll shave you. You’ve never done it before, and you’ll only end up cutting yourself.”

  Alison stood still as he towel dried her with brisk movements that somehow didn’t jar her at all. She couldn’t remember ever being towel dried by a man before and had to admit to herself that she liked it.

  Eagerly surrendering to his ministrations, she stared down at him as he dried her legs, holding on to his shoulder and lifting each foot at his command so he could dry them. She automatically reached out to touch him as he stood, towering over her.

  That possessive gleam in his eye told her she had his full attention now. Holding out a hand, he reached for the towel she held around her, his eyes narrowing when she held tight.

  “Let go, Alison, so I can finish drying you.”

  Self-conscious now, she gripped the towel tighter.

  “Dillon, I feel better if I’m covered up. You can still part the towel there without uncovering all of me. I know I’m not as thin as—damn it, Dillon!”

  He’d whipped the towel away with an ease that made her wonder why she ever bothered to defy him and started drying her, paying more attention than necessary to her breasts. His light caress of the towel over her tender nipples sensitized them even more and sent sharp jolts of pleasure to her slit.

  “I’m getting a little tired of hearing that you’re fat. I love your curves, and if you weren’t hurting, I’d turn you over my knee and paddle that round ass that gets me hard every time I see it.”

  Holding on to his shoulders as he dried her came naturally, and she did it without thinking. It helped steady her when her knees turned rubbery, and he seemed to expect it. Taken in by the vulnerability of having him care for this way, she let go to stand on her own, only to be swooped up into his arms with the towel wrapped around her again.

  “Dillon, where are we going? Why are you carrying me?”

  Dillon grabbed the razor and shaving cream on the way out of the bathroom, making his way to the room she’d slept in the previous night.

  “We’re going to the bedroom where I can spread you out and do this without cutting you, and I’m carrying you because I want to. You feel good in my arms.”

  Not knowing what to say to something like that, Alison looked away from his tender expression, yearning for the man who’d dried her in the bathroom.

  “Why do you do that?”

  Dillon paused at the side of the bed and lowered her onto the covers with her feet touching the floor, spreading the towel under her hips.

  “Do what?”

  If not for the intensity in his narr
owed gaze and the muscle working in his jaw, she would have thought him completely unaffected by the sight of her lying naked on his bed.

  “Why do you always get this look on your face like you want to throw me over your shoulder and drag me off to your cave, and then smile at me like I’m a little girl you’re offering a lollipop to?”

  Dillon bent low to brush his lips against hers, his muscular, denim-clad thighs nudging hers wide.

  “When I put something in your mouth for you to suck on, it sure as hell won’t be a lollipop.”

  Alison reached for him, unable to resist exploring the hard lines and ridges of the gorgeous male specimen in front of her. Smiling up at him, she touched a finger to a male nipple, rewarded with his sharp intake of breath.

  Touching her lips to his cheek, she breathed in the scent of shaving cream and male, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to press her nipples against him. “I know. You had that look on your face when I was sucking your cock, too. Why don’t you want me to see how much you want me? I want you, too, you know?”

  She pushed against him, needing to see his face. “Or is it anger? No, you don’t have any reason to be mad at me. Disgust? Why? Because of my scar? Because sometimes my back hurts, and I can’t have sex? Because I have a temper?”

  Annoyed that he showed no emotion and frustrated that she couldn’t seem to get through to him, she shoved against his chest.

  “Get off of me. I’m going back to the hotel.”

  Pitting her strength against his proved futile, of course, especially when he won the fight simply by lying on top of her and pressing her into the mattress.

  Even then, and with his own eyes flashing with an anger she welcomed, he kept most of his weight off of her. “Be still before you hurt yourself.”

  He waited until she stopped struggling before lifting his face, threading his hands through her hair. “You’re right.”

  Stunned, she froze, eyeing him warily, not sure what he meant. “Right about what? What are you saying?”

  His faint smile disappeared almost immediately, and that hard look that excited her so much came back into his eyes.

  “Do you know why some men want their woman’s pussy bare?”

  Alison shrugged, wondering what having her pussy shaved had to do with anything. “I hadn’t really thought about it. It’s sexy, right?”

  Please don’t let her sound stupid or naïve.

  Dillon inclined his head. “Very. Not only does it make a woman’s pussy more sensitive, but it exposes her completely. Nothing is hidden from the man who takes her.”

  Running a hand down her body, he pressed his cock against her center.

  “And if he’s the one who shaves her, he’s claiming possession of her. Her body becomes his.”

  Fascinated by the flash of possessiveness in his eyes and the low, hypnotic cadence of his tone, Alison could only stare up at his face as his hand moved down her body to cup her mound. She couldn’t hold back a low cry as his fingers parted her folds and moved over her slit, her juices easing the way.

  The faint light from the sunset shone through the window, making his chest and shoulders gleam like gold. Running her hands over him, she thrilled at the hard, sleek muscle and pressed her fingers into it.

  “Is that why you want to be the one to shave me? Do you want my body to belong to you…while I’m here?”

  Her voice trembled at the end, the thought of leaving here and facing Danny again almost unbearable.

  She gasped as Dillon’s finger slid deep inside her pussy, bringing her back to him and the present and making her forget all about everything else but him.

  She reached for him, instinctively seeking reassurance, her breath catching at the flash of predatory intent, one that had her heart racing. “Dillon, tell me what you want from me. Tell me how to please you.”

  Despite her attempt to close her thighs on his hand, Dillon kept them spread wide, pressing against the spot inside her that had her entire body bowing.

  Sliding lower, he knelt between her thighs, the hot hand he placed over her abdomen, effectively holding her in place. Holding her gaze with his fierce one, he pressed against that spot again.

  “You have no idea what you’re asking, Alison. Just leave it alone.”

  “No.” It came out as a distressed whimper when he withdrew from her, leaving her clenching at emptiness. She made a frantic grab for him when he started to stand, taking his hand in hers and holding it over her breast.

  “Damn it, Dillon. I won’t leave it alone. Stop playing games with me. I can’t give you what you want if I don’t know what it is. You promised to teach me.”

  Dillon sighed. “I promised to teach you how to please a man.” The muscle worked in his jaw again, his eyes becoming shuttered once again. “Although why you think you need any lessons is beyond me. You’re very passionate. Very giving. Very sweet. You don’t need to learn a thing.”

  He made it sound as though it was over.

  Obviously the thought of her belonging to him in that way proved to be more than he’d wanted from her.

  The chill that went though her had her gripping him tighter and then reluctantly releasing him. Gathering the towel around her to cover herself and ward off the chill, she averted her gaze. “I see. I guess I should be going then. I’ll stay at the hotel. Do I still have a job?”

  Dillon gripped her chin and lifted her face to his, his eyes hard as they searched hers. “I thought we’d gotten past that.”

  Threading his fingers through her still-damp hair, he pushed it back from her face. “Haven’t we gone past that?”

  At that moment she felt closer to him than she’d ever felt with any man before and yet somehow a million miles away.

  Not looking away from him, she shrugged, shaking her head. “I don’t know. It’s all very new. With Ryder, I know where I stand, but with you, I’m never quite sure. When Ryder wants to avoid me, he does it. At least it’s honest.”

  Lowering her back to the bed, he separated the ends of the towel, exposing her again to his gaze.

  “You have no idea what’s in Ryder’s head. He thinks he can’t take care of you and he wants to. As you said, it’s all a little new. Why don’t we forget all about lessons and concentrate on pleasure. Things will work out. Now, lay back so I can shave you.”

  Alison lay back, thrilling at the feel of his hands on her inner thighs as he spread her wide again, and fought to stay still.

  With a hand on her mound, he met her gaze. “Be still while I get some warm cloths.”

  Alison nodded, still wondering what she could do about Ryder. The last thing she wanted to do was to make someone feel as worthless as Danny always made her feel. Remembering how she called out for Dillon while on the market steps, she winced.

  Up until then he’d been all arrogance. Damn it. She had to fix it somehow.

  When Dillon came back, his eyes met and held hers again, a demand in them she didn’t understand. “I need you to trust me. You need to stay perfectly still for me, okay?”

  “Okay. I can’t wait to see what it feels like.”

  She never took her eyes from Dillon’s face, following his movements as he turned on the lamp next to the bed and then as he slowly and methodically lathered her mound. Fascinated by the way the muscle kept clenching in his jaw, she wished she could see his eyes, but they remained downcast, hidden from her.

  “Dillon, if you don’t want to—”

  “Do you know anything about dominance and submission?”

  Blinking at the unexpected question, she started trembling with excitement and a little bit of fear, wondering if he meant to do any of the things he did at the men’s club with her. Her nipples and clit tingled at the deep rasp in his gentle tone as he asked the question, but she didn’t understand the underlying tension in it.

  “I’ve heard about it, of course. I know that’s what you find at the men’s club, but Danny wanted me to be subservient to him, and I hated it. I think it would be
different with you. Do you want me to submit to you?”

  Dillon lifted his gaze and set the can of shaving cream aside.

  “The thought’s occurred to me once or twice.”

  His tone made it sound as though he’d thought about it a hell of a lot more than once or twice. Intrigued at the thought that maybe that’s why he got that look on his face, she lifted up to her elbows.

  “I only think it’s fair to tell you, though, that if you’re talking about whips and chains, I would hate it. You and Ryder talk about spanking me like it would be fun, but I’ve heard that some people like to draw blood. That’s just scary.” She didn’t even bother trying to hide her shudder.

  After wiping his fingers free of the shaving cream, he rubbed her stomach as if in understanding, which didn’t surprise her a bit.

  Dillon seemed to notice everything.

  “Most dominant men don’t want to draw blood. They want to possess. Protect.”

  “Possess? You mean own?” Fisting her hands at her sides, she fought to remain still when Dillon began to shave her, the backs of his fingers brushing her clit making it nearly impossible.

  He lifted a shoulder, his matter-of-fact tone not fooling her for a minute. “To a certain degree.”

  “It doesn’t sound like much fun for the woman.”

  He smiled, glancing up at her. “Oh, it can be. How do you suppose a man would keep a woman in line, a woman he considered his? We told you, even a spanking can give a lot of pleasure to a woman. And to the man administering it, for that matter. What if a woman gave herself over to a man because she trusted him not to hurt her and knew the pleasure he had in store for her? It takes a strong woman to be submissive. It also takes an attentive man to be a dominant, a good one anyway. He would have to know his woman so completely that he could anticipate her.”

  Alison bit her lip, her abdomen tightening each time her pussy clenched and released more of her juices. Falling back to the bed, she struggled to remain motionless as he wiped the top of her mound and squirted more of the shaving cream into his hand.

  She held her breath when he parted her wide and began smoothing the cream over her folds, letting it out on a moan when his fingers brushed over her clit.