He tore my shirt clear from my body, leaving me bare-breasted and in nothing but a scrap of underwear. He pressed his face against my skin and uttered a low string of curses that gave me goosebumps. I was on my back a second later, arms over my head, as he stood and removed the shirt he’d slept in. He was broad-shouldered with strong, muscled arms and a defined chest with gray chest-hair mixed in with the black. He flicked a crooked grin at me when he caught me staring. I retaliated by slipping free of my underwear and tossing it at his face.
Then spread my legs wide.
He growled and threw my underwear clear across the room. Dropped his face to my belly and ran his tongue to the space between my breasts. He bit my skin, sucked it between his teeth, rolled my nipples into tight, aching peaks. I cried out, wept, begged as he sucked and sucked, leaving me boneless with need. The sounds Abe made against my breast were the sounds of a man pushed to the breaking point. Only the teasing descent of his fingers down my body tethered me to earth—fingers that landed firmly on my clit.
He placed his forehead on mine and let out a shuddering, grateful breath. “Look,” he said, voice strained. Gripping his shoulders, I looked down. Saw his strong, skilled hand between my legs. Watched his index finger circle my clit once. Slowly. “I’ve been dreaming about your pussy, Sloane.”
Oh, god.
“Every fucking night,” he whispered. He began working my clit faster, more firmly. Perfect. Perfect. “And wouldn’t you know, touching you, feeling your slick skin, how hot you are here, is more beautiful than my wildest fucking dreams.”
I wanted to watch his fingers on my clit forever. And when he dropped his mouth to my ear and slipped his finger inside me, I cried out his name.
“You’re going to stay on this bed and keep these legs wide,” he growled. “And I’m going to eat your pussy until you beg me to stop. Do you understand, Ms. Argento?”
“Yes yes yes,” I said, wrenching a raspy laugh from Abe when I gave his head a little shove downward. He responded by pinning my hands down as he fell before me.
“Spread them wider,” he commanded. I complied. Eager. He took several long, hungry perusals of my naked body, splayed out before him. “I have no idea what I did to deserve this.” He dropped his face to my cunt, inhaled. Released my hands so he could grip my ass and yank me harder against his face. “To deserve a woman so gorgeous my world stopped the second I saw you.”
“Abe,” I whispered. Overwhelmed.
He licked my pussy, really licked it. Shot me a look that threatened my very existence as a cool, independent loner. The look made me want to toss everything to the wind, leap into his arms, and beg him to marry me.
“I am going to taste every inch of you, Sloane.” My legs started to shake in anticipation. He grunted, shoved my knees down hard. I wound all my fingers into his hair and forced his tongue against my eager skin.
“Are you calling the shots now?” The look on his face wasn’t angry. Not at all. I rolled my hips, rolled my clit against his mouth, and he rewarded me with a nice, long suck. Two fingers slipped back inside me, stretching, teasing, curling against my inner walls. I smiled—big, bright, happy—and let out a satisfied “thank you” that had him chuckling against me.
“I’ll let you get away with telling me what to do,” he said. “Because you’re cute as hell, and if it’s not extremely obvious, I’d do anything you asked of me.” He curled his fingers just right. An electric current went through me. He kept his fingers moving, working my pussy, as he prowled up my body, forcing my head back into the bed. His other hand gripped my face, thumb on my pulse-point. “But if I’m going to fuck you into sweet forgetting, you’re going to let me devour you.” He licked my bottom lip lightly. Caught it between his teeth—the pinch of pain was everything. “Are we clear?”
My response was to lean in. Nip his jaw. Drag a sexy, crooked grin from him. “Clear,” I purred. I lay back down like a good girl.
And I was devoured.
33
Abe
Intoxicated.
I was drunk on Sloane.
Naked, glowing skin; full, rounded breasts and her soft belly; strong thighs, pretty feet, bare neck, hair in strands of midnight chaos. The goddess was curvy and feminine, dangerously edged; the enchantress was an erotic dream, a glimpse of sexual paradise I wasn’t sure a man like me deserved. Now she was splayed out for me, a feast fit for a king, every naked inch of her available for me to obsess over.
And it felt like an obsession. Her fingers landed back in my hair; my mouth landed back on her clit, licking her in long, decadent strokes that had her body rolling and writhing on the bed. I buried my tongue inside of her, tasted honey, tasted heat, tasted sweat and salt and everything good in this world. Her legs tightened around my ears as my palms slid up her hips, her belly, cupped her breasts greedily. They spilled past my hands, voluptuous, gorgeous—I pinched her nipples harder than I intended, but her response was a raspy moan I’d be jerking off to the memory of for years to come.
I pinched them again—increased the pressure of my tongue on her clit—and she pulled on my hair. Gasped out a breathy, “Yes, Abe, oh god,” as her feet kicked my back. She was writhing, wild beneath me, and I was starving for every moan, every sigh, every indication her body offered up that was evidence of her sexual pleasure.
Beneath my mouth, her pussy was wet and hot, open and eager, her clit responsive against my tongue. I watched her face as I fluttered my tongue quickly, watched the glide of her body, the curve of her ribs, the tightening of her pink nipples. Between my own legs, my cock was heavy, rock-hard—already I was sweating from the effort it took not to grind myself to orgasm against this goddamn bed.
My tongue dove between her folds, dipped deep into her center. Sloane’s cries grew louder, more out of control. I gripped her hips and yanked her higher, giving me greater access to tongue-fuck her as deep as I could. The look of euphoria on her face tattooed itself on my soul—once, twice, three times, a hundred times. I was going to wrench orgasm after orgasm from this siren, bring her so much fucking pleasure she’d forget this case, forget her past, forget her loneliness and her disappointments.
Ecstasy was all that mattered, and I was more than willing to stay here on my knees until she demanded otherwise. I was dimly aware of the sounds I was making against her pussy, of my fingers bruising her hips. Time and reality held not a scrap of meaning to me. I replaced my tongue with my fingers—one, two. I worked a third finger into her tight cunt, and her hands slapped my shoulders, pulled my hair. I allowed myself thirty seconds to lift my head and watch her, to press my face to her soft, supple thighs and bite her skin, marking her.
“I am going to fuck you into goddamn oblivion,” I growled. “But not before you come on my mouth.”
Sloane sat up on her elbows, chest flushed, fucking my hand. I reached forward, gripped her neck, and yanked her face against mine. She kissed me so hard I couldn’t breathe, didn’t need to breathe. Her fingers scratched at my chest as I finger-fucked her faster. Faster. Her kisses grew ragged, whimper-filled.
“It never feels like this, Abe,” she whispered. “Abe, Abe, it never, I’ve never, what if I can’t?”
I kissed her throat as she tilted her head all the way back, the ends of her hair brushing the bed. “Can’t what, beautiful?” I murmured. “Can’t come?”
“No,” she wailed. “No, I’m so… god, I’m so… it’s too much…”
I dipped my head. Sucked her nipple between my lips. She shrieked, starting to tighten, tighten, clench around my hand.
“Can’t let go for you,” she panted.
My tongue dragged back up her throat. My mouth landed back on her lips. I kissed away her fears, kissed away her nerves, kissed Sloane until she understood I knew exactly how she felt. My fingers were slick with her arousal, she was so close. So close. I gripped the back of her neck and forced her to look at me.
“I am not going anywhere,” I promised. Relief flooded her features
. I waited until trust returned to her eyes before placing my palm in the middle of her chest and forcing her back down to the bed. I concentrated all my energy on licking her clit with skill and dedication as I kept half my hand fucking her, sliding against her G-spot, opening her to pleasure, to sensation, to me.
Her legs wrapped around my head; her hands stayed attached to my shoulders. Her hips thrust up, up, up against my tongue until I gave her the pressure that she needed.
Her orgasm was a beautiful free-fall of total elation. Her hips shot straight up, and I held her still, cradled the lower half of her body and sucked her clit hard, and then soft, until her screams became cries and her cries became moans. Until she could only whisper Abe, Abe, Abe.
I couldn’t wait a second longer.
I stood, removed my remaining clothing until I was completely naked in front of her for the first time. She climbed my body, throwing her arms around my neck as I dipped, scooped her up, legs around my waist.
When we kissed, I tasted like the most secret and alluring parts of her; when we kissed, I shared those parts with her, sliding our tongues together. The second she pulled back, breathing hard, I scraped my teeth at her jaw.
“Sloane,” I said, voice rough. “What will make you comfortable? I have condoms, in my suitcase. I have —”
“When was the last time you were tested?” she asked.
“After the last woman I had sex with a year ago. I haven’t been with anyone since,” I admitted. Holding a hot, pliable, warm woman against my body threw my cold and lonely nights into stark relief. Only I hadn’t felt lonely. Alone, sure, but not lonely. Sloane was the missing piece, tumbling into my life and making me yearn for a future I’d never once considered.
“It’s the same for me,” she said. “I have an IUD. I’m clean.”
My chest heaved at the thought of fucking her without a single barrier between us. Her mouth hovered over mine, hands gripping my face as my arms held her close.
“Please, Abe,” she begged. “Yes, please, now. I need you.”
I didn’t need to be begged twice by the most beautiful woman in the world. I hoisted her higher on my waist and walked us back into the dresser, depositing her on the end. I shoved bags and clothing to the ground. Knocked down a lamp that clattered loudly, the light going out. My hips hit the dresser, ramming it against the wall, as I dragged her knees high along my body.
One hand spanned the wall, my other hand gripping her waist. I watched as she wrapped her gorgeous fingers around my cock. Held my gaze with her sultry one as she jerked me slowly. Too slowly. My snarl sent heat to her cheeks, sent her teeth sinking into my chest. She stopped teasing. Pressed our mouths together in a breathless kiss. Placed the head of my cock to her entrance.
I fucked into her with a single, confident thrust and experienced my second dose of true, mind-altering intoxication.
“I’m still here,” I whispered against her lips. She felt so fucking good. “And I’m not going anywhere.” I slid all the way out, slammed back in.
“Oh my god, don’t you dare fucking stop,” Sloane cried—which sent the final semblance of my restraint hurtling into the atmosphere. She clung to my neck as I gripped her hips and plunged recklessly into her pussy, thrusting in a steady rhythm that was no less brutal.
She was on me like a wild cat, all teeth and nails, as she called my name out. I stopped being aware of anything other than the sight of my cock sliding into her pussy, the sounds we made, how slick and hot she felt, how tightly she squeezed me. It was far too easy to spin her around, so we faced the mirror over the dresser together. I gathered her heavy hair between my fingers and tugged until my lips could land at her ear. Our eyes, in the mirror, met, burned with fever, burned with the understanding that it was all different now. Like she had predicted—there was no going back.
I fucked her from behind, against the dresser, kept my mouth at her ear and our eyes locked.
“The next time you want to be ravaged, Sloane, you say the word,” I growled. “If you want to be fucked until you can’t stand, I’m more than happy to oblige. Because whatever spell you’ve cast over me, I’m still yours, and I’m still here, and making you come just became my new fucking hobby.”
I buried my face in the nape of her neck, kissed her there, the crook of her shoulder, the space between her shoulder blades, worshiped all the vulnerability she hid back here. Sloane, for her part, met me thrust for thrust with a look of total bliss on her face. My lips stayed on her neck, my groans of pleasure growing more ragged, out of my control. With a sharp bite on her throat, I pushed her down, increased the speed of my motions, noted I’d probably have to pay the hotel for damage to the wall. All I could see was her ass, shaking with my thrusts. The magnificent curve of her spine and the feel of her hair in my fingers. Her face, a mask of pure ecstasy, her irresistible smile, the way “please, Abe, please, Abe” had become a mantra, spilling from her mouth.
Please, Abe. She didn’t need to say please, she didn’t need to say thank you, she didn’t even need to ask. I’d give her this freely, with nothing expected in return.
Her cunt gripped, gripped, fluttered, clenched. I swiped a palm along her spine, used my other hand to massage her clit. She needed only one rough flick before her orgasm sprang free and she cried out. I dropped my face to hers, let my own orgasm free, let myself experience the full-body high of sex with Sloane, coming with Sloane, fucking Sloane against a goddamn hotel room dresser.
I buried my face in the side of her neck, catching my breath over a long few minutes. When Sloane Argento kissed my cheek with a satisfied smile, I recognized this as the natural conclusion to our electrifying connection—even if it was mere days ago.
Maybe this woman’s entrance into my life wasn’t coincidence at all, but something much, much more romantic. And that felt like the most dangerous risk of all.
34
Sloane
Abe wrapped me in a warm blanket as I sat back against the headboard and watched him make us our first coffee of the day. The sun was brightening, it was now closer to 9:00 a.m., and we didn’t have much time to avoid the reality of our rapidly ticking clock.
Codex would be arriving any second.
He pressed a small mug of coffee into my hands—wearing nothing but sweatpants, feet bare, hair untidy. Messy, adorable, with a hint of morning stubble.
Devastating.
With concern, he touched my bruise. “Did I make it worse?”
“You made it better,” I promised. I pulled my hair to one side and displayed the string of hickeys he’d left there—a surprise discovery I’d spotted in the bathroom mirror.
“Christ, I’m a brute,” he muttered.
“The bruise on my jaw doesn’t hurt one bit. And these bruises hurt in the way that I like.”
His throat worked. He kept his steel-gray eyes on mine as he sipped his own coffee. “You are magnificent, Sloane.”
I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere.
During the course of Abe and I fucking each other senseless on a hotel-room dresser, I’d been delighted to learn his extensive vocabulary included a litany of filthy words. Made filthier by that growly sex-voice of his. Pleasure roughened the edges of his refined presence, made him dominant and greedy, skilled and possessive.
The man had delivered on his promise to fuck me into sweet forgetting. Like his intelligence, his integrity, his competence—he also wielded his cock with an elegant skill.
Although, elegant or not, he’d also shoved me down, face first, and fucked me from behind with a righteous fury. His skill had given me two earth-shattering, life-changing orgasms. And one perfect, golden memory: I’m still here.
Throughout my life, I’d learned change was the only constant; I’d either accept that fact or burn. Which was why I rarely complained about my upbringing—complaining meant I was out of control instead of embracing the change, no matter how scary it was. At seventeen, my reality had been terrifying, so I took off sprinting t
oward my future—changed my identity, changed where I lived, hid, fled, reappeared someplace new. Still, Abe shone a light on the tenderest parts of my soul; all the cobwebs, the old nightmares, the fears that plagued me. Those fears had led me to choose to be alone, even if it meant I was also lonely. Because my greatest fear was to be abandoned.
I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere. Giving in to the temptation of Abe Royal was only going to devastate me if, ultimately, he left.
I reached forward and held his hand. “Thank you. For everything that you said. For listening to me. Last night, this morning, when we had sex. I can tell you more about myself, about my parents; it will just take time.”
“I’ve got time,” he said.
“Well, we don’t have that much time,” I said—hesitant but aiming for light. Fun. “Beyond the auction tomorrow night, don’t you leave for home soon?”
“I do,” he said—tone heavy. He didn’t look away from me. A new and surprising shyness gripped me, made me unsure of what to ask for next from this man who had so easily given me everything a few moments ago.
“So I guess we broke our main rule in a pretty big way,” he said.
“We sure did.” A wild vortex of erotic memories passed between us. I could see him getting hard again, the outline clear in his sweatpants.
He chuckled softly. “Not how I expected this morning to go. Figured our morning would be us watching Love Island and placing bets.”
I hummed a little. His hand left mine, cupped my cheek. I turned my head and kissed his palm. “I preferred my morning of being ravaged, thank you.”
A grin slid up his face. “We can’t go back, can we?”
No, we couldn’t. This sexual dam had been broken and we were swept away on the current now. “I believe you said you’d be more than happy to oblige my dirtiest desires. Fucked until I can’t stand being one of those promises.”
In the Clear (Codex Book 3) Page 23
