A Little Less Conversation (13 page)

“I…oh god,” she breathed out again on a shaky breath, words simply failing her at the burning honesty she could see written upon the rugged beauty of his face, hear within his husky words. “So you really— I mean, you
honestly
want more from me than just some good conversation?”

A sharp laugh jerked out of his throat, but he choked it back when he saw the bruised expression on her face. “God, Mel, how could you even think such a thing? As much as I love talking to you, nothing can compare to having you in my arms.” His voice lowered once more, rough and raw as he added, “To having you under me, surrounding me while I sink deep inside you.”

“But you haven’t even done that…yet, Mark. How do you know it’ll be enough?”
How do you know I’ll be enough?

The look in his eyes was so wicked and warm, she felt as if he’d read her mind. “Just because I haven’t had my dick in you yet, sweetheart, doesn’t mean I haven’t been inside you.”

She blushed so bright she felt sunburned, and he laughed, a low, wicked chuckle that melted down her spine, making her weak and strong at the same time. “You feel so soft inside, baby. As soft and sweet as you look on the outside, and I
know
it’s gonna burn me alive when I finally get in you.”

“If you fit,” she murmured wryly, shifting back to glance down at the stiff, thick evidence of his massive cock pressing against the thin material of his shorts.

“I’ll fit. I’ll make sure you’re so ready that I’ll sink right in. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but nothing will ever be more perfect.”

Melanie cocked her head to the side as she studied the determined, intent lines of his expression. “You seem really sure of yourself.”

“I am. Your sweet little pussy was made to take me…all the way to the hilt, Mel,” he growled, the sexy sound making her shiver with excitement.

“But I…I’m, well, I mean, I don’t have nearly your kind of experience when it comes to this, um, kind of stuff,” she mumbled. “I hate to say it, or even think it, but there’s probably a really good chance that you’ll get bored with me, Mark.”

The green of his eyes was feverishly bright as he stared at her through the thick fringe of his lashes, the pattern of his breathing coming harder, as if he was as turned on as she felt. It was a heady, electrifying thought that nearly had her moaning aloud.

“You’re gonna have to trust me, Mel,” he said huskily, “when I tell you that there’s not a chance in hell that could ever happen. Damn, just talking to you makes me hard. I’m almost afraid to think of what fucking you is going to do.”

Her lips trembled into a soft grin. “Conversational foreplay, huh?”

“You can laugh, but do you have any idea what you did to me that night?” he asked with a wry smile. “I was hard under that little table the entire damn time we were at
Caza’s
, Mel, from nothing more than the sexy, sinful sound of your voice. When you told me about your last trip to Milan, I got so turned on that I ached. Watching the way your eyes sparkled when you described Paris damn near turned my dick inside out. If we hadn’t been in a restaurant full of surfers who were all sneaking looks at you, I’d have thrown the table out of my goddamn way, pulled up your skirt and shoved my face in your perfect little cunt right there, eating your hot little juices for dessert, while you just kept talking about the Seine and the Louvre and that little café with the
pain au chocolat
and
café au lait
. The entire night was like some deviously designed torture session to see how far you could push me, ‘til I lost it and ended up scaring your sweet little ass away. So don’t ever,
ever
doubt my desire, sweetheart. I want to sink inside you every time I set eyes on you. Every time I think about you. And
only
you, Mel.”

She frowned as a sudden thought occurred to her. “I don’t want a man who’s faithful simply because he thinks it’s right, like it’s some kind of noble sacrifice.”

“It isn’t like that. I’ll be faithful because you’re all I want,” he said with far more tenderness than she would have ever thought an utterly alpha male like him could show or feel. “That’s a fact that isn’t ever going to change. So you had better fucking accept it.”

“Oh,” she sighed dreamily, wondering if she looked as love-struck as she felt.

“And?” Mark prompted, the hard, yet ridiculously sexy line of his mouth twitching with humor.

“And what?”

“I’d like to hear the same from you,” he said with a stifled growl. “Forget like. I
have
to hear it, Mel. I need to know, damn it.”

Melanie blinked in fascination. “From me?”

He stared at her so intently, she felt as if he was trying to sneak into her mind. “Don’t sound so damn surprised. I want to know that you’re mine—and
only
mine—woman.”

“Mmm…” she moaned, melting from the evocative heat in his darkening gaze.

He shook his head with exasperation, another wry smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You gonna give me an answer?”

Warm satisfaction curled heavily within her, drowsy and replete. She wanted to bask in the glorious heat of his expression, but sexual urgency pulsed too fiercely beneath her skin, setting her to a fine tremble, and all she could do was grin in return.

“Tell me you want me, Mel,” he said, his voice shaking in a low rumble. “I’m hanging by a thread here, and every second I spend without you hurts like a son of a bitch. Tell me you’re mine. Tell me that no other bastard is ever setting his fucking hands on you.”

“You know,” she teased, shaken by the depth of emotion in his words, “you and your talented brother have practically taken cursing to an art form. It’s amazing.”

“I don’t want to talk about Cain,” he growled against the sensitive skin beneath her ear, nipping the tender lobe. The hungry urgency in his voice told her that he’d reached the limit of his control. “I want to talk about
us
. I want you to tell me what you want.”

There was only one answer, simple and perfect and pure. “You, Mark. I want you.”

Chapter Seven

“Aw, thank god,” Mark groaned, and before she could blink, he had Melanie plastered against the feral heat of his body. His hands clutched at the lush softness of her backside, grinding her against the raging ache in his cock, her soft breasts flattened against his chest. “This first time won’t be easy, Mel.” He’d tried to soften the vicious thread of hunger in his tone, but knew he’d failed when she trembled against him. “I’ve waited too long for you. Hell, this first
month
might not be easy, but after that, I…uh, promise I’ll be able to give it to you however you want it. You name it, honey. But right now I have to be
in
you.”

“Any way you want it, Mark,” she said breathlessly, pressing the damp heat of her mouth to his, and the stroke of her eager tongue past his lips damn near turned his cock inside out. “Just so long as I’ve got you, I’m good. Great. Freaking spectacular.”

With a low growl, he broke the kiss to preserve what little of his sanity he still held, and his eyes tracked over the grace of her flushed face, absorbing all the beautiful, purely unique details of her. Lingering over the individual features that made her glow—made her so perfectly special to him. All of it, each soft curve and shape, affected him in the same way as an artist might feel when standing in awe beneath the majesty of Michaelangelo’s frescoes adorning the Sistine Chapel ceiling. The dainty, dark freckles that decorated her nose and cheekbones. The gentle sweep of her brows and the feminine line of her nose. The angle of her jaw and the soft curve of her chin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered achingly as he carried her the few feet it took to reach her dining nook. With uncharacteristically trembling hands, he pushed her back against the gleaming surface of her small table. She trembled, too, beneath the press of his eyes, shivering as he trailed one callused palm down the center of her shirt-covered chest, over the smooth plane of her stomach, the feminine flare of her hips. Then he turned inward, burrowing into the humid warmth of her cloth-covered sex, parting her knees with his thighs.

He leaned over her, and Mel’s hands clutched at his shoulders, fisting handfuls of his shirt, struggling to pull it off. A low laugh rumbled in his chest and he straightened, watching her desire-filled expression as he ripped the stained T-shirt off over his head, his cock jerking in his shorts at the drugged look of pleasure that fell over her face. Her eyes were heavy, lambent, cheeks pink with a warm wash of color, soft pink lips parted for her soughing breaths. She jackknifed upright, running her palms eagerly over his heated skin, and his breath sucked sharply into his chest.

“Mark,” she breathed out shakily, and he ground his jaw as she flicked her thumbs over his hard nipples. Knowing he was on the verge of something explosive, he grabbed the bottom of her shirt and jerked it off over her head, forcing her arms up high. The second the cloth cleared her fingertips, she wrapped her arms around her breasts, nibbling on the corner of her plump lower lip as the flush on her face spread down the slender column of her pale throat, blooming prettily over the satiny skin of her chest and the mouthwatering mounds she was so preciously trying to hide from him. They bulged around her caging arms, and he wasn’t sure whether the low rumbling sound echoing in his ears was a storm blowing in off the Pacific or his own cracking control.

“Don’t hide from me,” he grunted in a low, gravel-filled voice, pulling her arms away as she shivered, and the sight of her small, tender pink nipples nearly killed him. Her hands fluttered shyly at her sides, and he pinned them to the table with the firm press of his own, telling her without words to keep them there. Something primitive and savage stretched to awareness within him, snarling at the thought of her hiding from him. “Don’t ever cover up in front of me, Mel,” he demanded roughly, moving his hands to her shoulders and forcing her back against the table.

She shivered beneath the bright, revealing overhead light and what he knew was the purely feral look of hunger burning in his gaze, her firm breasts trembling, soft and beautiful, against her chest.

“Mark…the light,” she whispered, staring up at the bright overhead ceiling fixture, while he flicked the button undone on her shorts, lowered the zipper and quickly gripped the thin cotton in his hands.

“No,” he breathed out huskily, wrenching the shorts over her hips, then stepping back so that he could pull them down her legs. Her tiny scrap of pale pink panties immediately followed. “I want to see you—all of you—when I go down on you this time,” he said gutturally, aware that his voice trembled with his need for her. With his hands on her knees, he forced them out wide at her sides and stepped back between them, knowing he couldn’t have looked away from the breathtaking perfection of her naked cunt if his life depended on it. “I want every one of these gorgeous, pink little details up close and personal, knowing that they belong to me.
Only to me
. Right, Mel?”

“Yes,” she moaned, arching beneath him, unable to remain still. She rode the surface of the table in a shimmying wave of need, looking like a primordial sacrifice, laid out and spread for his pleasure.

But first, Mark wanted hers.

Without any warning, he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to the hot, deliciously wet folds of her pussy with gentle avidity. He burrowed into her moist, succulent warmth, feeling drunk on her womanly scent and taste as it surrounded him, beautiful and sweet and pure. Fresh and utterly new, making him crave her in a way he’d never thought he could hunger for a woman.

Swirling his tongue lazily around her clit, he avariciously collected her honeyed juices. He moved lower, and the second his strong tongue stroked deeply, piercing her lush entrance, she came. He ate at her greedily, like he was starved…and he was. He claimed every seductive drop for his own, swallowing her into his mouth while his tongue stroked possessively through her folds, lapping into her tight, rhythmically pulsing entrance, marveling at the pure perfection of her. When he finally raised his head, he grinned wickedly as he gazed up at her damp, crimson face over the arc of her pubic bone. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to make me work for it, sweetheart?”

“Oh…um, sorry,” she mumbled hoarsely, raising her head to stare at him down the shivering line of her torso.

“That’s okay.” He gave her a warm smile, tilting his head to the side as he studied the soft curve of her belly, the shallow indentation of her navel, stroking the quivering flesh with his palm. “But you owe me.”

She blinked in owlish fascination. “I do?”

“Hell, yes,” he groaned, moving up her body. His lips found the puffy swell of her right nipple, and he lustily drew it into the warm heat of his mouth, loving the low moan that shivered out of her as he suckled, pressing the hardened tip to the roof of his mouth, then working it hungrily with his tongue. His jaws opened wider, and he pulled more of that succulent flesh into his heat, wanting to swallow her whole. When she was writhing beneath him, arching up into the avid pulls of his mouth, he moved to the other breast, taking it with the same greedy urgency that he’d shown the first.

“You owe me, Mel,” he drawled roughly, lifting his head to press his lips against the quivering point at the base of her throat where her pulse fluttered chaotically, “and I know exactly what I want.”

His fingers found the tender flesh between her legs, all slippery and slick with her warm release. His head moved higher, claiming her mouth in a blistering kiss of carnal intent as his hand moved lower, seeking her demure entrance. Mark instantly pressed two thick fingers up into her, penetrating the tight sheath of her body, forcing her to stretch wide around him. She cried out into his kiss, a shocked, awakening sound of pleasure and pain, and he worked his fingers deeper, desperate to ready her for the heaviness of his cock.