All In (4 page)

“Mariah…God, that’s good.”

Tucker shifted his hips slowly and deliberately while she sucked on him. True to his word, after only an inch or so inside, he retreated. As his hard cock entered her mouth over and over, she rubbed her tongue along the underside. She ached to feel him thrusting between her legs the same way, harder and deeper, but that would come soon enough. Right now she wanted to drive him to the edge of orgasm, watch him fight for control, because he wouldn’t want to come in her mouth yet. Men liked to prove their stamina.

Besides, that had been her original wish—to satisfy him so completely that he would never be able to forget her, and so far, so good. As he thrust, he stared into her eyes, his own blazing with intensity, but sometimes his head fell back and he exhaled gruffly, like a bull steer building up to a charge. She loved knowing she was the cause of his raw reactions. It made her feel powerful, confident, uber-sexy.

Gripping the headboard, he pumped in and out with short, restrained movements, his muscles flexing. As she let her hands rove up his thighs, his rippled abs and around his back, she marveled at how cut he was. The muscles of his arms and chest looked like something off a male model website. His ass was like granite. The man obviously did more than sit on it at poker tables all day.

Catching her gaze, he withdrew from her mouth completely, one hand on his cock, lifting it up. Suddenly, she remembered that he enjoyed having his testicles licked. With a soft breath, she feathered her lips against the skin of his sac. His rough groan of pleasure rumbled through her.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “take one inside…”

So she did. She rolled it around in her mouth as he stroked his own cock. His hand pulled on it slowly as he watched her, groaning. After a few moments and with a gruff sound of impatience, he nudged her with it. Obediently, she took him inside again.

“Oh fuck,” he said, reclaiming his grip on the headboard. He only lasted about half a dozen strokes before he jerked backward, breathing hard. “Okay, that’s it. That’s all I can take. Jesus.”

Sliding down her body to lie on top of her, Tucker took her mouth again. His tongue surged inside, no longer coaxing or gentle. This time his kiss demanded and Mariah’s body answered with a desperate stab of need between her legs. Parting them, she put a hand on his hip to urge him, but he shook his head and uttered one word.

“Condom.”

Damn. She’d been so eager to feel him push into her she’d almost forgotten about protection. Shivering when he left her to roll on the Trojan, she welcomed him back with a whimper of desire. Tucker moved quickly into place between her thighs, one hand below to guide himself home.

Mariah inhaled deeply as he entered her with one long, steady push. God, what a rush. Bringing him to the edge had sharpened her own hunger, and he felt so damn good. She locked her legs around his hips and met him thrust for thrust. Every penetrating stroke drove pleasure through her, and yet it wasn’t enough.

“Tucker, please,” she gasped. “Harder.
More
.”

Jaw clenched, he slammed into her with more force, more speed.

“Please, don’t stop—”

Straining toward him, she canted her hips so his groin struck her clit over and over, needing, gasping, but—

“Shit, Mariah, I—shit, shit, shit—”

And with a groan, he came. She tensed as he continued to drive himself into her, his hot breath against her neck. She was almost there. Almost. Just a little bit more…

“Come on, Mariah! Come, damn it!”

His harsh command sent her over the edge, and Mariah arched up as pleasure exploded in a blinding, pulsing release that went on and on. Tucker kept going, ramming himself into her, prolonging her orgasm. Waves of sensation swept over her, dwindling gradually as he slowed his thrusts and then finally stopped moving. With a rough, thorough kiss, he allowed some of his weight to rest on her.

“Amazing,” he gasped as she let her legs fall to the mattress. “Goddamn amazing. I think this was better than Palm Springs,” he said, fingering a lock of damp hair off her cheek. “Maybe we get better with practice.”

“Could be,” she answered with a smile. “I’m certainly willing to do some more research.”

Chuckling, he pulled out and rolled onto his back with a satisfied groan. “Oh yeah. Me too, but I need to recharge. How ’bout we order some room service?”

Mariah turned on her side and propped her head on her hand. “Sounds perfect.”

Half an hour later, dressed in complimentary Egyptian cotton robes, they were feasting on an extravagant buffet in the posh living room of the suite. Because the menu was so extensive, Mariah had been unable to decide, so Tucker ordered anything she expressed an interest in: gourmet panini sandwiches, poached salmon, sliced fruit, banana pancakes and bacon, champagne and chocolate mousse.

Having worked up an appetite, Mariah served herself from each of the dishes.

“So,” she said, “the last time I saw you, you were working on a math degree at Stanford.”

“Good memory,” he said, piling his own plate with food. “Yeah, ends up I got the degree, but I eventually took up a different line of work.”

“You mean poker.”

Tucker’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth as he glanced at her, surprised that she knew what he did for a living. “Yeah, that’s right. Poker. How’d you know?”

“I caught you on TV once or twice,” she said, shrugging her shoulder. “You’re a regular celebrity.”

Tucker turned his attention back to the salmon. “No, I’m not. I’m just a guy who’s lucky enough to play cards for a living.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. From what I’ve seen, it’s damn hard work. You probably can’t stop thinking even for a moment in the middle of a tournament. I can’t imagine the mental demands of calculating odds like that for hours and hours. That’s why I couldn’t hack it that time in Palm Springs. I just couldn’t keep it up.”

“But I didn’t make it to the final table that time either,” he reminded her.

“No, but you almost did. If that guy hadn’t pulled that full house on the river, you’d have made it.”

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

She shrugged and took a bite of panini. “So that tournament in Palm Springs we were in together, was that the beginning of your career?”

“Sort of.”

“What made you go into it full time?”

“My buddy Tony.” Tucker wiped his mouth with his napkin. “He was always pushing me to try again, saying he knew I could win a big pot if I just tried. So I did.”

With a three-thousand-dollar buy-in, Tucker’d had a few doubts, but Tony was confident that his head for numbers and knack for observation would prove him a winner. He was right. Tucker had walked away with ninety-seven thousand dollars. That win had attracted the attention of Dale Branson, a heck of a guy, always willing to share his pearls of poker wisdom. His offer to take Tucker under his wing prompted Tucker’s move to Atlantic City. A year later he’d earned half a million dollars. After two years, he’d almost tripled that.

She raised her glass of champagne. “And now you’re Mr. Freeze.”

“Yeah.” Tucker rolled his eyes as they clinked glasses.

“What, you don’t like your nickname?”

“It’s all right, I guess,” he said. “It’s a damn sight better than Chilly the Kid.”

Mariah laugh-snorted champagne. “I’m sorry. Chilly the Kid?”

“That’s what they used to call me in school.”

“Oh I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh,” she said, not too convincingly. “What does I.C. stand for, anyway?”

He put his champagne down and regarded her with a tight-lipped smile. “Ichabod Cornelius.”

“You’re making that up.”

“No, I’m not. It’s a family name. I’m actually the fourth Ichabod Cornelius Tucker, but I don’t use the Roman numerals except for IRS forms and stuff like that.”

“Well, I can see why you go by Tucker,” she said with a sly smile, “but you’re anything but chilly.”

Tucker grinned when Mariah’s naked foot slid up his calf under the table and made its way toward his groin. Grabbing her ankle, he took his rapidly hardening cock and rubbed it against the sole of her foot.

“Hey! Are we skipping dessert?” she asked with a devilish grin.

“Hell no.”

Standing abruptly, he wheeled the table out of the way and grabbed the silver bowl of mousse.

“What are you up to?” she asked as he knelt in front of her.

“Just serving up my mousse,” he said, drawing the lapels of her robe apart and baring her gorgeous breasts. “Mousse à la Mariah.”

He scooped up some chocolate on his fingers and smeared it on one of her breasts. Her nipples hardened immediately and she gave a little scream.

“That’s cold!”

“Yeah, but my mouth’s warm,” he said, coating the other breast.

He put the bowl down and rubbed more of the stuff around her nipples, loving the feel of those stiff peaks. Ruthlessly, he rubbed and rolled them between his fingers until her breathing got heavy and she arched her back, a sex kitten in heat. Some of the mousse had dripped onto her thighs and more of it slid down her stomach as he finally leaned forward and took her breast into his mouth. The chocolate coated his tongue as he swirled it around and around. The sound of her moans made him dizzy with need.

“God, Tucker,” she gasped. “You’re driving me nuts.”

“Good,” he said, but she took one of his hands and licked the mousse off his palm on her way to pulling his index finger right into her mouth. Damn if he didn’t feel that suction all the way down in his balls.

Time to up the ante. Staring her in the eye, he slid his free hand between her legs. She was dripping with moisture. As Mariah moaned and slid down in her chair, he rubbed her clit in slow, soft circles while she sucked his fingers clean, one by one. Tucker kissed her, exploring her mouth with deep forays of his tongue even as he kept caressing her slick pussy. Her hips shifted against his hand and the provocative sounds coming from the back of her throat made his cock pulse in response.

He slid down her body, kissing her soft skin and hooking her legs over his shoulders. The sight and smell of her luscious cunt intoxicated him. He inhaled deeply as he pressed his mouth to her again. Even though he’d just gone down on her a little while ago, he felt like he was discovering her all over again. The sharp edge of his lust had been appeased and he wanted to prolong the pleasure this time around. Feeling surprisingly serene, he eased his tongue over her pussy in a long, slow lick. Mariah shivered and moaned. God, how he loved her warm response. He slowly delved into all her secret folds, sucking on those plump, pink lips, sliding his tongue into the creases.

With the better lighting he also indulged himself with a leisurely visual tour. Being a red-blooded American man, he appreciated a pretty pussy as much as the next guy, but Mariah…she was so beautiful, especially swollen and slick with desire. She even had a seductive beauty mark hidden near her clit. He found himself unable to resist tickling it with his tongue over and over, if only to hear her soft sighs when he did.

“God, Tucker, yes,” she murmured, stroking his head in encouragement.

Enjoying every moment, Tucker urged her toward another climax. He wanted her mindless with pleasure, wanted to be the cause of an endless string of orgasms as he pleased her with his mouth. And then, when she was limp, he aimed to bring her up again as he plunged deep inside her, invading her but sharing the sensations, connecting with her on a deeper level.

With every wet swipe of his tongue she got closer. As he rubbed and sucked, gauging her gasps and reading her body’s response, he snaked his hands up and squeezed her breasts, causing her to arch against him. Her nipples stood out stiffly and he pinched them in rhythm with his sucking.

“Oh God,” she gasped, clutching his head as her orgasm approached. “Almost…”

Even if she hadn’t alerted him, he would have felt the signs of her imminent explosion. Her clit seemed to strain toward his tongue. She held her breath for short periods, tensing her muscles at the same time. As she gripped his head tighter and tighter, her hips moved against his mouth with more urgency until, at last, she arched up. A throaty cry erupted from her as her cunt spasmed against his chin. She dug her heels into his back and ground herself against his face. And damned if his balls didn’t feel like they were going to explode. His blood pressure had to be off the scale. His cock sent one urgent message to his brain like a runaway train.

Fuck her. Now.

But when he drew back and gazed at her, that message got derailed. All he could do was stare.

Still wearing the open robe, she lay with her eyes closed, her arms and legs limp. Her inner thighs were bathed with his saliva and her rich secretions, and a flush still heated her cheeks. Slowly, her eyes opened and the smile that lingered on her lips made him forget how sharp his lust had been a moment ago. At the sight of her, splayed like a siren from a lusty myth, he realized that he could easily become addicted to her sultry flavor and the satisfaction he felt when she came. His chest felt full and he smiled back dumbly.

After a long moment, she broke the silence. “This time I can’t even move my thumbs.”