by Jess Dee
Ah, the man was a taste sensation. A treat to any palate.
There was no denying her actions were selfish, no hiding from that truth. But the understanding didn’t make her pull away. How could she, when his neck proved as delicious as his cheek? And mouth. And chin. Tori had an all-consuming need to find out if his chest was as appetizing.
The guttural groan that erupted from his throat only amplified the need.
“Victoria…”
His husky murmur reverberated straight through her bones, and she clawed at the hem of his T-shirt, desperate to get her mouth on his naked flesh, desperate to taste the salt of his chest.
Andrew didn’t fight her, didn’t point out that she was doing exactly what she’d promised not to.
If anything, he aided her, yanking the offending shirt up and hauling it over his shoulders, offering Tori what she sought. She dug in, kissing and licking every inch of his chest, moaning her pleasure out loud. Andrew was a veritable smorgasbord of deliciousness. His chest was lean, broad and solid, and curly, dark hairs tickled her tongue and lips as she nipped at him.
She loved hair on a man’s chest. Hadn’t realized she’d missed it until right now. She placed her mouth over his left nipple and sucked it into her mouth.
Tension seemed to coil in his muscles as they stiffened beneath her.
“Victoria.” Her name was a soft growl, a warning, and she should have taken note, heard the caution he issued in his tone. But lost in the wonder of his body, she paid it no heed.
Which was how she found herself on her back a second later, with Andrew kneeling between her thighs, their positions now reversed. His breath was harsh, his chest heaving, and as he leaned over her, the heat of his erection burned through his jeans, searing the skin on her thigh.
“You have five seconds to back out of this. Five seconds to change your mind.” His voice was low, dangerous, and it sent a shiver straight up Tori’s spine. “You’re hurting, you’re upset and you’re acting on instinct, which is the only reason I’m giving you an out.” Hot breath rasped over her neck.
Goose bumps erupted down her arms.
“One.”
Tori stared up into his eyes, thunderstruck by the change in him. Gone was the easygoing guy who’d made her laugh through her misery.
“Two.”
Up until now, he’d been content to let Tori be the aggressor. Perhaps he’d sensed her need to be in control of the situation.
“Three.”
Not anymore. Tori had lost control. She no longer had the freedom to do as she pleased. The knowledge was curiously arousing.
“Four.”
She swallowed but didn’t move an inch—unless she counted the involuntary shifting of her hips as she tried to lift her ass and rub her pussy against Andrew’s impressive erection.
“Run, Victoria,” he growled. “Run now.”
Her limbs liquefied. Even if she’d wanted to run, she’d have been powerless. Lust slammed into her, leaving her gasping beneath him.
“Five.”
She had time to inhale once—a wheezy excuse for a breath—before he claimed her mouth in a scalding assault on her senses. With just his lips, his tongue and his skill, Andrew blew her world clean apart. Took her to the edge of the universe and back in a velvety attack on her mouth and soul.
Because when a man kissed like Andrew kissed, it was impossible not to feel it all the way through to her soul.
His seduction was masterful, the power all his. Tori was a boneless heap of need, helpless beneath him, lost to his sudden yet unquestionable dominance.
So absorbed was she in his kiss, she moaned an objection when he broke it to remove his hoodie and her singlet. The singlet vanished, but he left the sweater beneath her to lie on. The chilled breeze against her heated skin and the temporary absence of his soft yet demanding lips played havoc with her mind.
“More!” Damn it, she wanted more. Needed more. Had to taste him again, feel the stroke of his silvery tongue over hers.
A cry born of frustration rent the air, and she scratched at his arms, pulling him back to her.
He didn’t budge, didn’t give her the satisfaction.
Instead he knelt above her, his gaze fixed on her heaving chest.
She clawed harder, desperation for his kiss a living, breathing animal inside her.
Slow and controlled, Andrew placed a hand over each of her wrists and brought her arms up over her head, laying them on the ground behind her and holding them there effortlessly, leaving her defenseless.
His gaze returned to her chest, and at this angle, the moonlight shone dimly on his features, casting a pale glow over his expression. His eyes were hooded, his mouth parted and raw desire pulsed from him in waves.
Tori’s response was visceral. Voracious need surged through her, and she fought the shackles binding her hands, struggling to free herself. Anything to touch him, pull him down to her. Kiss him.
He only tightened his hold, rendering her helpless.
“I’m going to release you, Victoria. Going to move my hands from your wrists. And in return, you are going to lie right where you are and not move an inch. Got it?”
Yeah, right. The second her arms were liberated, she was grabbing as much of him as she could hold.
“Got it?” he asked again.
“Got it,” she agreed, then had to repeat herself, because in her breathless state of anticipation, she discovered she had no voice.
The grip on her wrists loosened, and she flexed her fingers, waiting for the freedom to act.
He relaxed, pulling his arms and upper body back. His lower body, however, remained snug against hers, his erection pushing against her thigh, making her half crazy with need. She didn’t want that erection resting on her leg. She wanted it inside her achy body. Deep, deep, deep inside.
Andrew shifted, moved lower, repositioning that erection so it now fit against the juncture of her legs.
Tori whimpered, and Andrew grimaced, the desire in his face turning to pain.
God, she understood. The pleasure of contact was also a brutal reminder of the clothes between them, the barriers keeping them apart.
With a frustrated moan, he rocked his hips, pressing himself ever closer. Sensation zinged through her groin, making her tremble.
He did it again.
She took advantage of his distraction and threw her hands up, intent on grabbing hold of him.
Andrew froze. Mid-rock he quit moving, and though Tori found his arms and shoulders, she found no purchase. Every one of his muscles had tautened, making it impossible to get a grip. She didn’t care. So as long as she touched him, she could breathe again.
She ran her palms over his skin, imbibed his heat, his strength, felt him shudder.
He did not relax at all beneath her caresses. Did not soften to her touch. Nor did he respond as she twisted beneath him, rocking her hips to combat his inertia. And worse, he made no move to kiss her as she raised her face to his, licked at his lower lip.
For one terrible moment Tori feared he’d leave. Pull off her. Walk away.
Horror filled her heart, and the metallic taste of rejection settled in her mouth. She let a soft, agonized moan escape.
Deserted by one man, rejected by another.
It was more than any woman could tolerate in one night. One lifetime.
But then Andrew growled, the sound a tortured mixture of pleasure and pain. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m losing it, sweetheart. Too close to hold back much longer. You need to…have to…quit teasing.”
Instinct told Victoria to drop her arms, to lie back as she had before, with her hands above her head. This time she didn’t need Andrew to immobilize her. She held the position voluntarily.
He drew in several deep breaths. The night sky failed to hide the battle he fought with himself.
Now that the panic of losing him had receded, Victoria could watch, wait for him to act. He wasn’t walking away. Wasn’t rejecting her. He was fig
hting his need to take her—something she’d failed at miserably. She’d wanted and she’d taken. Or tried to, anyway. He’d stopped her.
Andrew’s breath began to even and his jaw relaxed. His gazed raked her torso from head to waist, and came once again to settle on her chest.
Her nipples hardened to tight beads.
Long, silent seconds passed as he looked his fill, and Tori found her back arching. Her arms remained fixed above her head, but the rest of her body responded to his gaze as she offered herself to him.
Her breasts felt heavy, needy, and she was sure they swelled before his greedy eyes.
Still he stared silently, hungrily.
Tension built in her belly. She arched higher, pushing her chest up. The cups of her bra cut into her tender flesh.
Andrew tilted his head almost imperceptibly, his gazing moving from one breast to the other.
Her skin began to itch, and Tori couldn’t repress the frustrated moan that burst from her mouth. She clasped her hands together, squeezing her fingers tight, lest she give in once again to temptation and reach for him.
He swooped in. One minute he gazed down at her, the next he’d fixed his lips to her breast and sucked her sensitized nipple into his mouth, bra and all.
The relief of contact was so intense, Tori cried out, the sound bouncing off the gazebo ceiling.
He cupped her breasts, holding them firmly, but oh God, so erotically in place, as he proceeded to tantalize and tease. He grazed his thumb over one nipple and suckled on the other before switching breasts.
The sensation was powerful enough to bring tears to Tori’s eyes. No longer did she need to reach out and touch him. He’d finally touched her. Her arms relaxed, as did her fingers. Her entire body loosened, the tension draining away as pleasure took its place. Yet even as languid warmth seeped into her muscles, her wanton need grew.
Each pull of his mouth around her nipples sent a rush of heat to her pussy. Her panties were soaked, and her hips moved instinctively now, dancing in time with his. Every caress of his erection against her clit sent thrilling shudders quaking through her.
His touch was exquisite. He nipped at her every now and again, his sharp teeth introducing a hint of pain. The pain felt good. So damn good. And necessary.
For hours, a nasty, insistent ache had eaten away at her heart, tossing her into a pit of devastation and desolation. The burn had been relentless yet indefinable, an emotional hurt that refused to quit no matter how hard she wished it away.
The sharp sting Andrew inflicted was tangible. It started, it hurt and it ended. And it increased the rapture a thousandfold, the pain and the pleasure in direct contrast to each other.
It seemed Tori was all about contrasts tonight. Pain and pleasure. Declan and Andrew. Love and lust. Betrayal and honesty.
Oh, God. Andrew was removing her shorts. Tugging at the zipper, undoing the button, pulling them over her hips, down her legs. He shuffled backwards on his knees, and she kicked off her thongs, refusing to let them get in the way. He freed one leg, then the other, and tossed the shorts over his shoulder.
Then he started on her panties.
Her lungs ceased functioning.
He rolled the underwear over her hips. “Lift up, sweetheart.”
Tori raised her ass, aiding him, anything to get rid of the offensive material. They were sodden, useless against this man’s blistering appeal.
When she was free of them at last, Andrew ran his hand from her stomach down over her hip and along the length of her thigh before switching legs and repeating the journey in the opposite direction.
Heat swirled wherever he stroked.
He brushed both hands over her stomach, beneath her bellybutton, then trailed his fingers down her inner thighs, caressing the sensitized skin. Close. God, he was so close to touching her there. Her inner muscles clenched, an involuntary attempt to grab at his hands and pull them closer.
But of course the attempt was useless, which only made her frustration climb. She rolled her hips, trying to draw his attention to her core.
Andrew withdrew his hands altogether.
Arrrggghhhh!
Tori had no idea whether she actually yelled out loud, but the sound reverberated across her skull.
He simply knelt before her, looking his fill.
Not touching, just looking. At her.
Then he leaned to the right, casting his face in shadows and her body in moonlight. Again the breath rasped from him, a hoarse swish in the silent night. Andrew tapped her thigh. “Bend your knee.”
Shivers raced down her leg. She did as he bade, instantly opening herself up to him.
“Fuck.” His muttered oath washed over her body like a lover’s caress.
Before, she’d arched her back, desperate for his touch. Now she rolled her hips, her pussy throbbing in time to her wildly beating heart.
Touch me. God, please, touch me! The silent plea went unnoticed. Andrew just continued to look.
Her arms twitched and her fingers curled, the urge to reach for him overwhelming. She clamped her eyes shut, tamping back the desire.
Touch me!
She didn’t need to open her eyes to know his gaze was still on her. She felt it deep inside. Millions of goose bumps rose on her skin, and her stomach dipped as though she’d just dropped on a rollercoaster ride. Her muscles fluttered restlessly and moisture slid down her inner thigh.
Could he see it? Did he realize the effect his gaze had on her?
“Andrew?” Was that her voice? That husky plea?
“Shhh, Victoria. It’s all good.”
Good? No, it wasn’t. Nothing was good. Nothing would be good until he touched her again. “Please, Andrew…”
“Shhh.”
Argh. She twisted her hips in frustration, thrashed around, but God help her, she never reached for him—or for herself either. She almost did. Almost. Anything to ease the throbbing.
“Ando—” The use of his nickname was deliberate, strategically utilized to increase the intimacy between them. Inspire him to touch her.
It didn’t work.
Chapter Four
“I like the way my name sounds on your lips.”
She’d scream his name if it made him act. Hell, she’d yell it repeatedly. “How about the way my pussy tastes on your lips?” Tori should have blushed at her question, or at least thought twice before asking it, but the man had her so worked up, she could hardly think straight. She simply voiced the thought foremost on her mind.
He grinned a filthy grin filled with mischievous intent, making her pussy clench. She bent her other leg, drawing her thighs apart, opening up to him completely, leaving herself at his mercy.
And Andrew grew silent again as he stared down at her spread legs, his heavy breath the only indication he was affected by her change in position.
The longer he stared, the more intense the ache between her legs became. Victoria began to pant. And perspire. The skin at the back of her neck dampened. She grabbed fistfuls of hair, tugging at it, pulling hard, hoping the pain would distract her from his lusty gaze. But no. As before, the pain only increased the pleasure, and this time the pleasure came from his intense focus and uneven breath.
Pleasure and agitation.
Would the man ever touch her? She needed this. The release and the relief might act as a channel through which the millions of emotions swirling through her chest could escape. Devastation, anger and desire churned, making her shake from head to toe.
A tear slid down her cheek, taking her unaware. She hadn’t known her eyes had filled.
But whether it was a tear of anger or need, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was the hunger pounding through her body, making every inch of her throb and ache and want.
She jumped when Andrew placed his hands on her inner thighs, caressing her skin ever so softly as he spread her legs wider. Yes, she’d anticipated his touch, craved it, but she’d also feared it would never come.
And now his fingers tr
ailed over her sensitive skin, his touch unfamiliar yet so…so…incredibly sensual, a strangled groan was the only sound she was capable of.
He placed a thumb on either side of her pussy and slowly dragged those digits across her wet, swollen flesh.
His touch was staggering, stunning in its gentleness. It whipped the breath from her lungs.
Andrew ran his thumbs from her pussy lips, up through her folds and over her clit, then back down again.
Tori began to shake harder. She couldn’t help it. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember a time she’d ever been this aroused.
Apparently rejection turned her into a horny ho.
She cried out as he drew a thumb over her clit and rubbed in tiny, provocative circles.
Heaven. That’s where she was. Floating on a wispy puff of cloud in the midst of the night sky.
He traced his thumbs back to either side of her pussy, drawing her outer lips apart, opening up her center for him.
Andrew shifted, bumping against her calves, her thighs. His jeans scraped against the gazebo floor. And then it wasn’t just his fingers on her pussy. Something much hotter and wetter joined them.
Shivering from head to toe, Tori pushed up on her arms to look. Andrew’s head was buried between her legs. His hair tickled her mound, his hands held her thighs apart, and his tongue licked her from slit to clit and back again.
He’d taken her to the brink when he’d kissed her lips, devoured her breasts. His mouth now left her completely void of thought. How could she think or concentrate, when he drove her to the edge of ecstasy? All she could do was feel. Experience. And the experience of his tongue on her pussy was magnificent. Incredible.
Andrew licked her for hours. Or maybe it was seconds. Tori couldn’t tell. Didn’t try. She just luxuriated in the sensation.
His tongue tantalized with a talent that must have taken centuries of practice. He swirled it around her clit, dipped it between her legs, dragged it down so it teased at her ass but never actually touched, and swirled back up again to repeat the journey.
For long, blissful moments he focused solely on her clit, lapping at her with a flattened tongue before teasing her with just the tip.
