3 Brides for 3 Bad Boys (6 page)

His fingertip teased her right nipple, the sensation a thousand times more impacting without the layers of her clothes between them.

She groaned.

"Do you like that, baby?"

"Yes."

His left hand joined his right, and both her nipples were subjected to the same sensual torture. She felt wetness and heat between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, but the relief was very short lived. Within seconds, it just seemed to make it worse.

"Rand."

"What's the matter?" His voice wasn't his usual smooth drawl, but had a guttural quality that said he was affected, too.

"I need…" She didn't know how to say what she needed.

"What do you need? Tell me."

She had never indulged in sex talk before and wasn't sure she was ready for her first try at it. "I can't."

"You can." His fingers stopped moving, and she wanted to scream with frustration.

"You said you wanted to taste them!"

"Do
you
want me to?"

"Yes."

His mouth lowered until his lips were barely touching the turgid peaks.

"Please, Rand."

His tongue flicked out and licked her like an ice-cream cone.

A long, low moan snaked out of her throat.

He did it again, treating her oversensitized flesh like the cherry on top of a sundae. He even nipped it, making her scream and arch toward the heat of his mouth. He sucked her into scorching wetness, making an animalistic sound of satisfaction.

It was too much, but she would die if he stopped. She wanted more, needed more and said so in a voice that echoed off the ceiling.

He released her nipple with an audible pop and nipped it once more before raising his head to kiss her again, this time with a carnality that could not be mistaken for anything but a prelude to her complete and total surrender.

His left hand was still playing with her now aching nipple, but his right hand slid down her back until his fingertip was pressing between her tightly clenched buttocks. He pressed inward, caressing her in a shockingly intimate way. His finger moved inexorably toward the heart of her. Making no allowance for the tight clasp of her flesh, it forged a secret path.

Down it went, until the outer lips of her feminine center were parted and his fingertip had slipped just inside her, giving her her very first taste of a man's possession. He pushed her forward, into him, until the front of her mound nestled intimately against his rock-hard sex while he continued his exploration from the back with that insidious finger.

Rand wanted to strip off his clothes, tear Phoebe's sexy lace panties from her body and bury himself inside her so deep, she'd think he was a part of her. She was soaking wet, and the hot flesh surrounding his finger was as slick and swollen as any man could want before getting inside his woman.

And, damn, did he want to do that.

He penetrated her with his finger a little deeper, sinking into the clasping flesh of her sex up to his first knuckle. She tried to arch forward, away from his finger, while a small sound of distress went from her mouth to his.

He rubbed his cock against her mound, reveling in the way her entire body went stiff at the contact. But far from straining away, she pushed herself more firmly against him. Her mouth tore away from his, and she panted, her entire upper body flushed with desire. She was so sexy, more sensual than any woman he'd ever bedded, and he hadn't done half of what he planned to do to her.

His finger pressed more firmly into her until he hit a barrier he knew had to be crossed that night before she could truly become his.

Temporarily.

He couldn't forget that. This was a one-week gig. No white roses. No forever promises. Just sex. Sex that was likely to take the top of his head off, but it wasn't love. It couldn't be. He didn't have that left to give anymore.

Her head came up. "It hurts, Rand."

"I'm sorry." He stopped moving his finger, but he knew to take her where he was going to take her tonight, he would have to hurt her a little.

She squirmed against him. "It's not that bad."

"I don't want it to hurt at all, baby, but I don't know any other way."

Her eyes misted over with tears, and she smiled. "I like it when you call me baby."

"I'm glad." He rubbed himself against her, and she began to shiver uncontrollably. She was close. He knew she was close, and he was going to tip her right over.

He moved his finger in and out, tortured by the feel of her wet, velvety skin clasping him so tight.

He slowly withdrew his finger, and she moaned.

"It's okay. Trust me. I want to make you feel good."

"That did feel good."

"This will feel better." He pressed his thumb inside her swollen, humid flesh and slid his index finger forward until he brushed her small, inflamed clitoris.

Her shivering intensified. A few more strokes and she cried out, her body arching in one long spasm of pleasure. Her inner flesh contracted around his thumb, and it was all he could do not to complete the possession of her body with his throbbing sex buried deep inside her. All at once, she collapsed against him.

He held her, caressing her through the aftershocks, but careful not to send her over the edge again.

He wanted to be inside her the next time, and his cock was straining for release. When he knew she'd come down enough to stand on her own, he pulled away from her, not letting her step off the stool.

She stared at him, her eyes unfocused, her beautiful lips swollen from his kisses.

"Stay there." He wanted to look at her while he took his clothes off.

Her brows came together. "Why?"

He almost laughed at the naive question, but he hurt too much to laugh. "I want to see you."

She was still wearing her shoes, a pretty tame pair of pumps, but very sexy with the stockings, corselette and lace panties. Her gorgeous little breasts were still fully exposed above the satin he'd pushed down, the cups making a shelf that lifted the creamy white skin in a very tantalizing way.

She opened her mouth to say something, maybe to argue, but he took off his jacket and then his shirt in short order. She stood there, her lips slightly parted, her attention completely focused on his body as he removed his clothes.

When he peeled away the silk boxers, she gasped and shook her head. "It's not going to work. That's a lot bigger than your finger."

This time he did laugh, a short, pain-filled chuckle. "You're just going to have to trust my experience on this one."

Her head averted, her gaze shifting away from him. "You've been with a lot of women. I must seem pretty gauche in comparison."

Was she crazy? "You're so damn sexy, I'm one stroke away from premature ejaculation."

Her arms wrapped around her middle. "You don't have to say that."

He rolled his eyes.
Women!
They had the strangest ideas, and he just did not have the tact to deal nicely with her bout of insecurity right now. He wanted her too much. "Get on the bed."

That brought her eyes back into contact with his.

He didn't wait for her shock to subside so she could do as he'd said, but stepped forward and swung her up in his arms. "I want you, and I can't wait anymore."

She buried her face in his neck and pressed a small kiss there. "Okay," she whispered.

He could hear the fear in her voice, but the anticipation, too.

He would show her she had nothing to fear from him and everything to look forward to.

C h a p t e r S i x

P
hoebe clung to Rand as he went to lay her on the bed, the feel of his naked skin against hers the most amazing sensation she'd ever had in her life.

Maybe her lack of practical application in this area was to blame, but every sensory receptor in her body seemed to be on overload from the experience. Full body contact was so intimate, just the
thought
of him fitting inside her was enough to make her shudder.

It would be supremely intimate.

She couldn't help worrying it would be slightly uncomfortable as well. She'd felt really full with just his finger. Maybe she was too tight, and her body wasn't as resilient and stretchable as it would have been if she weren't a virgin. He'd told her to trust him, and she was trying, but it was hard.

"Phoebe."

She opened her eyes to find him looking down at her, an intense expression tightening his features. She licked her suddenly dry lips. "What?"

"I'm going to make you mine now."

What was she supposed to say to that? Probably something equally erotic and sophisticated, but all she could do was agree. "Okay."

He pulled away from her and leaned over to open his night-stand drawer. She watched in utter fascination as he rolled a condom over his engorged sex. He turned back to her and smiled at her rapt expression. "You can do it next time."

"I don't know how."

"It's not hard. I'm sure you can figure it out, and I'm bound to enjoy you trying."

He wanted her to touch him? She realized she'd whispered the words aloud when his expression turned rapacious.

"Hell, yes. I want your sweet little hands everywhere, and by the time tonight is over they will have been."

"I want that, too," she admitted.

His smile was all-conquering male. "I know."

She laughed at his ego, but her humor fled fast enough when he came back to her on the bed. Without her really understanding how it happened, he divested her of her remaining clothes, all the while touching her in ways that were guaranteed to make her crazy.

When she was a trembling, naked mass of nerves lying there on his bed, he came down on top of her again. And this time, her brain did a short-circuit. She lost sense of anything except the feel of his body against hers. She could feel his thighs brushing the inside of her own, the blunt tip of his shaft against her virgin opening, his lips molding hers, his hands exploring excited flesh. Her entire world shrank to physical sensation and a burgeoning of love in her heart that was so overwhelming, she thought she might explode from it.

But no matter how much she longed to cry out her love along with her pleasure, she kept the words locked tight in her throat.

He wanted sex, not emotion.

His pelvis tilted toward her, and it started … his possession of her body.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice tight with strain.

How could she answer? It felt like nothing she'd ever known before. Yes, there was some pain, but it was part of a maelstrom of sensations, and she could not distinguish it as separate from the others.

"It doesn't matter," she choked out between panting breaths.

She tipped up toward him, wanting more of him. Needing his complete possession. It seemed to drive him right over the edge, and he plunged deeper into her, breaking through her barrier with one thrust. She screamed. She couldn't help it.

She had no problem distinguishing the feelings now.

"It hurts." She tried to shove him off while doing her best to sink back into the bed away from his marauding flesh. "This is not going to work."

He was about as movable as a rock and definitely as hard as one, but he stopped thrusting.

His shoulders were slick with sweat, the muscles under her hands bulging with the effort to hold still, and his entire body shook with tension. "It's going to work,"

he ground out.

It was no gentle wooing, but the pain in his expression more than matched her own, and for some reason that made it better. He needed her. He didn't just want to have sex with her. He
needed
it, and that made the pain worth it. She stopped trying to get away from him.

He moved, just a little, and she gasped as she felt a new shaft of pain arc through her.

"You've got to relax." His jaw was so tight, it could have been hewn from marble.

"I don't know how." She was failing him, and she couldn't stand it. She wanted this to work. Wanted it so much, but she couldn't seem to accommodate him like his other lovers must have done.

He didn't say anything, but his mouth lowered, and the lips that pressed against hers were not hard and angry. They weren't even impatient. They were gentle and coaxing, and bit by bit, the rigidity in her body lessened.

"That's it. You can do it, honey." The words of encouragement whispered against her lips were as tantalizing as his kiss. "That's right, relax for me."

Both tender and carnal, his mouth drew forth her passion despite the lingering discomfort. He started another rocking, this time small movements of his hips that left him deeper inside her with each thrust. And far from pain, she felt an indescribable pleasure.

Finally, his pelvis ground into her own, and she felt full, stretched to capacity.

She could not move so much as a centimeter with his heavy body pressing hers down and his hardness inside her.

He maneuvered his legs until they were outside hers, pressing her thighs together and her flesh more firmly around his shaft. She whimpered as the movement put him into almost unbearable contact with her clitoris.

"Are you ready?"

For what? But she said, "Yes," because she needed something and was sure he knew what it was.

She was right. He pulled out of her until only the tip of his big erection was still inside her and then plunged back into her. Hard. He did it over and over again, caressing her clitoris the entire time with that granite-hard shaft. She cried out again, but this time from the incredible bliss of it.