Delilah Devlin - Sm{B}itten (Night Fall #1)

by Unknown

  Dylan’s nipples were flat, brown circles with tiny nubs in the center. She wondered if they’d dimple like hers when kissed. “Who?”

  “The badder guy.” One of his hands closed over hers, halting her exploration. “The one licking your neck. Do you remember that?”

  “Now I remember. It seems so long ago.” Satisfied Dylan hadn’t bypassed a rule of modern lovemaking, Emmy laid her head on his shoulder. “So, are you going to show me that more powerful orgasm?”

  His hand stroked her head. “Have you caught your breath?”

  She peeked at his face, thrilled at the lusty look in his eyes. “Will I be needing it?”

  “Oh yes.” He smacked her ass. “Now get off me.”

  She groaned noisily and clasped her arms around his back. “I don’t want to.”

  “Emmy, do you like the feel of me inside you?” he asked, his voice a sexy growl next to her ear.

  “Mmm-hmm. That’s why I’m not moving.”

  “And if I tell you I can be deeper inside you?”

  Emmy’s belly tightened like a spring. This was something else she knew about. And one of her favorite sex-things. She unwound her legs and pushed off his lap, his cock sliding from inside her with a slushy sound. In an instant, she turned and went down on her hands and knees then looked over her shoulder. “Doggie style, right?”

  He coughed.

  It sounded suspiciously like a laugh, not that she minded. She knew she sounded as eager as a puppy.

  Hands closed over her buttocks, parting them. A single glide of his cock between her cheeks had her arms trembling. Then he slid his long shaft inside her soaking pussy, pushing inexorably deeper inside. A long slide out, and then he drove back inside—hard.

  Emmy started the climb, jerking and whimpering softly as he pounded into her, until her arms collapsed, and her head sank to the carpeted floor. His strong hands anchored her hips as he continued to slam against her ass, faster and faster.

  Suddenly, her breath caught, and her world tilted. “Ohmygod…Ohmygod,” she chanted, slanting her hips backward to take him deeper still. Another stroke, and then the tension in her belly snapped, and her pussy began to milk his cock, throbbing and clasping.

  Still, he moved inside her. At the same maddening pace.

  As the pulsing inside her slowed, a nagging thought stopped her cold. Perhaps, she wasn’t woman enough to get him off.

  Again, she rose with braced arms and pushed back to meet his strokes. When his hands squeezed her ass, she was reassured. He wasn’t going to let her go, wasn’t going to stop. The sound of flesh slapping flesh resounded each time his belly met her ass, warming her skin and her heart. Lord, the man had stamina. Again, excitement coiled in her belly, swirling deep inside, and she arched her back. “It’s happening again.”

  Dylan’s hips pistoned faster, Emmy’s soft bottom cushioning his belly at the end of each sharp stroke. Her moans tightened his balls until he had to come or they would explode.

  An itchy tingle in his gums announced the downward glide of his teeth. He halted instantly and prayed for restraint. He’d already scared her once.

  “No, don’t stop now,” Emmy wailed and pushed back, trying to take him deeper inside.

  With a curse, he tightened his grip to stop the movement of her hips.

  “Is this another pause to make it stronger?” she asked, her breath gasping.

  Dylan raised his gaze to the ceiling, willing himself to resist the dark lust sweeping over him. It centered between his thighs.

  Emmy bucked, her head flung back. “Please, do something. Move!” Her hair settled, strands of her blond hair clinging to the sweat on her back.

  He wanted nothing more than to wrap her hair in his fist. “Hold still, Emmy. I’ll hurt you.”

  A shudder racked her shoulders, and her head again sank to the floor. “Do you want to bite me again?” she asked, and then peeked over her shoulder.

  He clenched his jaw, his long teeth spearing the inside of his upper lip.

  “It’s okay,” she said softly. “Weird, but okay. Besides, it didn’t hurt that bad.” A smile lifted the corners of her lips. “And I came.”

  He shook his head, trying to deny the quickening that strained the skin of his cheeks and forehead. “Don’t look at me, Emmy.”

  “Just do it.” With a shrug that he felt pull at his groin, she faced away. “Whatever gets you moving again. Fuck me, Dylan.”

  “Come here,” he said, guiding her buttocks down as he knelt behind her. Still connected, he pulled her into his arms. Her back leaned into his chest, and her buttocks were cradled by his groin.

  As his hands settled over her belly, he rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Give me your neck.” He nuzzled through her hair to find the corner of her shoulder, drowning in the scent of apple blossoms and her desire. Goose bumps rose beneath his palms.

  Emmy tilted her head to the side. “Tell me what you want,” she whispered.

  Dylan lapped the side of her neck, his tongue preparing her fragile skin. “Trust me to make this good for you.”

  A little gust of laughter jerked her belly. “You’ve already given me better than my boyfriend ever did in more than four years together.”

  Primitive, surging anger instantly reshaped his face, and the muscles of his body hardened to steel. He thrust upward.

  “Ohmygod!” she cried. Her hands raised behind her head to twist in his hair.

  Dylan slid his hands beneath her to cup her buttocks, and he squeezed. His voice almost a snarl, he said, “Move on me, baby.”

  Her knees on either side of him, she lifted up then sank down on his cock. Her sigh of relief ended on a moan.

  Dylan glided his tongue over her skin one last time, and then sank his teeth into her neck, just breaking into the skin.

  Tensing, she struggled against him. “I’m not sure—”

  His hands rose to her breasts and he fondled them, tugging at the nipples until she eased down again.

  “There’s more?” she asked, her breath hitching when he deepened the bite. “It’s incredible.”

  His teeth slid farther into her until blood rushed into his mouth.

  “Ohmygod,” she repeated, rotating her hips on his cock, grinding down. She writhed, her buttocks sliding on his thighs. Then with his mouth still upon her neck, she bounced against his lap in short jerks.

  When her shudders grew deep, starting in her thighs and rising to her belly, Dylan’s humanity was nearly lost. A rumbling started deep in his throat that increased with the volume of her moans. He flexed his thighs, lifting them both as he pumped into her. Faster and faster, the blood screaming through his veins, and then his cock burst with a stream of come.

  He groaned against her neck.

  “Please,” she said, gasping, her hands tugging at his hair.

  Dylan withdrew his teeth immediately and realized that he, too, was trembling. At once, he licked the punctures on her neck until they closed. Then he dropped a hand to the curls between her legs.

  She widened the space between her legs and continued to rock against him.

  As he twisted a nipple between the fingers of one hand, he combed through the fine hair on her mound until he found the slick button of her clitoris.

  He glided his fingers down to where his dick was embedded in her pussy. Capturing cream from their combined climax, he returned to her clit and circled on it, the pad of his finger rubbing harder and harder. Hearing her keen, he plucked her clit, squeezing in rhythm with the rough treatment of her nipple.

  “Dylan,” she cried, a moment before she collapsed against him, panting.

  Long caresses over her belly and thighs calmed her breathing. Her head lolled on his shoulder, and she looked up. “If I make it home tonight, I’m staying in bed for a week.”

  He rubbed his cheek against her soft skin, assuring himself his face had returned to its human mask. “I’ll see you home.”

  “You don’t have to,” she said quickly. “
I won’t make this into anything more than what it is.”

  “And what is it?” he asked, amused she’d returned to babbling.

  “Wonderful. But just a fuck.” Her gaze darted away and she mumbled, “A damn great fuck.”

  Her blunt words knocked the breath out of him. He wondered why. He’d gotten exactly what he’d set out to find tonight. Uncomplicated sex. Still, he couldn’t stop the sudden surge of anger.

  And then he noticed that she barely breathed. She waited for his reaction, proof she wasn’t as blasé as her words. Dylan drew her slowly closer, nesting her inside his arms, and then bent to her ear. “Whether you want to see me again or not,” he said, pitching his voice low, “you’re stuck with me whenever the sun goes down.”

  A soft sigh relaxed her against him. “Only in the dark?” she asked, craning her head to catch his gaze. “What are you, a vampire?”

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  Dylan gave her a heated stare. Disappointed he hadn’t returned a smart-ass comment, Emmy wondered if her blunt words had shocked him. She’d only said it was just a fuck to let him know she had no expectations. If he knew he’d rocked her world, he’d probably run screaming into the night, thinking she’d stalk him for another delicious fuck. Or two.

  Not that Dylan appeared to be a screamer, but most men got butterflies when a woman appeared too enthusiastic in their company.

  No, Emmy wouldn’t cling. If their interlude was all she’d get from this unusual man, then she’d walk away proud she’d earned her first orgasm. She’d certainly worked hard enough.

  Emmy laughed, and then looked into his face again. “Is there any particular reason we’re stuck with each other at night?” Her heart pitter-patted, hoping he hadn’t said it in the heat of passion. Perhaps he’d finally viewed her without his passion-goggles and decided not to be seen in public with her big butt.

  Dylan sighed. “Love, would you mind getting up now? We need to talk.”

  Here it comes, she thought, her tummy twisting. I won’t cry. I won’t let him see how disappointed I am. She rose from his lap and bent to pick up her clothes from the floor.

  “Not yet,” he said, his strong fingers wrapping around her arm.

  All that glorious muscle had been hers—at least for a while.

  He guided her to the sofa. “Take a seat. We’ll talk.”

  After she had settled her heated skin onto the cool seat, she wished she had her skirt to cover her thighs, which spread like butter over the leather.

  He knelt beside the sofa, his eyes level with hers, and then raised a finger to tap her nose. “Emmy, pay attention.”

  She was mesmerized by the gold flecks glowing in a sea of deep green. Hoping to forestall some awful I’m-letting-you-down-easy speech, Emmy blurted, “You really don’t have to do this.” Her hands wrung in her lap. “I’m a grown-up girl. This was great, but I can make my own way home now.”

  His brows drew together. “Emmy, you’re not going anywhere without me.”

  Her heart lurched, wanting to soar, but she kept hold of the tethers. “Dylan, you don’t have to say that. I’m not expecting anything to come of this. Can’t we just say we had a grand ole time, and I can leave?”

  “Don’t you want to see me again?” he asked, those green eyes boring into hers.

  “Of course I do,” she admitted, feeling as awkward as a teenager waiting to be kissed. “I was just trying to make this easy, in case you wanted an out.”

  He shook his head. “I want to see you again, too.”

  She released the tether and smiled as her heart lifted toward a clear blue sky.

  “But there’s something else.” His voice was deep and serious.

  The traces tied to her heart tangled in the trees. “You’ve already got a girlfriend?”

  He blinked. “No, Emmy, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “You’re bi!” Her eyes widened. “Was that your boyfriend I saw you with earlier? I can see why you’d be attracted—he’s very handsome.”

  His finger pressed against her lips. “I’m not bi. I’m not trying to brush you off. I just need for you to listen to what I say.” He glared and kept his finger mashed to her lips until she nodded.

  When the pressure of his finger moved away, Emmy tightened her lips and slid her hands beneath her thighs.

  He rose to his feet. “Your life is in danger.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he paced in front of her. “Your friend Monica is working for Nicky now. And Nicky’s very dangerous. In fact, he’s a murderer.”

  His cock swayed between his legs in the most amazing way, and then she realized what he’d said. Murderer? Alarmed, she said, “Then we have to help Monica.” He halted, his face and dick in profile. Emmy’s attention snagged on the sight—not that she’d never seen this view of a man, but then again, she’d never seen one so well-endowed. The beautiful appendage made a girl lose her train of thought.

  “Monica can’t be saved.”

  Whoa. She dragged her gaze upward and raised her brows.

  “It’s too late for her, Emmy. And you must never see her again.”

  Yeah, right! She waved her hand in dismissal of the foolish thought. “Why should I believe you? She sells house wares in the same department store where I’m the bookkeeper. Saleswomen don’t become groupies to murderers.”

  His brows furrowed in a frown. “While I’m sure there was a speck of logic somewhere in all those words, I’m telling you the truth.”

  “I don’t believe you. She’s my friend.”

  “For the love of…” Dylan’s hands fisted on his hips. “She’s not the same girl. Nicky’s changed her.”

  Emmy felt her lower lip push out and sucked it back in quickly. How would he ever see it her way if she acted like a child? “Even if it were true, Monica would never hurt me.”

  Dylan threw his hands up. “Fine. Have it your way.”

  Emmy was a little disappointed Dylan had conceded so quickly. “Great.” At least he’d quit ragging on Monica.

  “Get dressed,” he said, his tone brooking no dissent.

  Ruffled by his curt tone, Emmy lifted her chin and knelt to retrieve her costume. After patting the ground without results, she relented and looked at the floor. She gathered her clothing, and then she glanced at Dylan.

  Both arms were crossed over his chest, and he was completely dressed. “Do you need help?”

  She wondered how he’d managed to do it so quickly. “I’ve been putting my own clothes on for twenty-odd years now. I think I can manage.” Only she was so irritated she put her panties on inside out.

  A single raised eyebrow mocked her.

  “I did that on purpose. I don’t like the seams against my skin.” She slid her skirt over her hips and sucked in her breath to close the zipper at her waist. Then she lifted her bustier and let it dangle from the end of her finger. When he didn’t take the hint, she cleared her throat. “It would go faster if you laced it up for me.”

  “I didn’t quite hear you.” Dylan cupped a hand to his ear. “Were you asking for my help?”

  She huffed out a breath. “You might be God’s gift in the fucking department, but I can see why there’s no girlfriend lurking in the shadows—you are a Grade-A asshole.” She threw the black velvet bustier at his head and stomped toward the door, hand outstretched to the brass knob.

  A moment later, he pinned her to the door. “You’re completely mad,” he said, his voice tickling her ear. “And what a temper. There’s not a woman in this building who would speak to me that way.”

  “Of course, I’m mad.” His body enveloped hers, making her feel incredibly small and helpless…and hot. “You’d drive a saint to commit murder. Besides, I’m not afraid of you.”

  Something warm and wet glided over the top of one shoulder.

  “No fair,” she complained, but she turned her head to bare her neck. He had the most amazing tongue, slightly rough like a cat’s.

  “I know,” he said, his ton
gue flickering over her skin to slide toward her ear. “You’re having a perfectly good pout, and I’m ruining it.”

  “Yes, you a—” Her breath caught when his fingertips caressed the sides of her breasts where they were mashed against the door.

  He shifted slightly away, and his hands moved around to cup them fully. “Of couse, we could just stay here.” His voice dropped to a low purr. “I could play with your breasts all night, since I didn’t really have a chance to do them justice before.”

  Emmy moaned and rubbed her ass against his groin. “I’d love to, but I have to work in the morning. I should head home.”

  “Then I’ll make sure you get there safely. Humor me.” He removed his hands and eased his body away.

  Immediately, Emmy missed his weight. She turned to face him and leaned back to let the door support her wobbly legs. “Because of Monica?”

  “And her boyfriend, Nicky.” He framed her face with his palms. “I’m not asking you to put your total faith in me. I’m just asking you to allow the possibility they mean you harm.”

  Reluctant to even conceive her friend would betray her, Emmy nodded and accepted his help donning her bustier.

  “Did you drive here?”

  “No, I took a taxi. I thought I was going on a bender. Isn’t it funny I didn’t get a single Cosmo?”

  “Good. We’ll take my car. When we leave here, I want your vigilance. Tell me if you see anything suspicious.”

  Numbed by great sex and the depressing feeling her perception of her life was about to change forever, Emmy followed Dylan from the club. Except for her directions, the drive was quiet, and sooner than she wished, Dylan parked his BMW a block from her apartment building.

  She wondered about that, and then figured by the way he’d kept checking his rearview mirror that he might think they were being followed. So what if the sexiest man she’d ever met was paranoid? The walk in the night air would clear the cobwebs.

  “Stay inside. I’ll get your door.” He let himself out and walked around the car.

  But he didn’t immediately open her door. His head lifted, and his nostrils flared like a dog catching a scent in the wind.