Dillon's Claim (7 page)

Dillon drew her shirt apart,
exposing the sexy, black lace bra that pushed her breasts up so prettily. “Very
nice,” he murmured, giving her neck a tender nip. She gasped and shuddered as
his hand cupped the soft swell of one breast, his tongue soothing the little
sting he’d created. The hardness of her nipple pressed into the center of his
palm. She had to be aching for his touch there. He caressed her in a slow
circular motion, teasing the tender tip.

Charissa moaned and tried to
struggle closer to his hand, but he held her fast and kept tormenting her with
tiny circles of his thumb. Then he did the same to the other breast, stroking
and teasing until she whimpered and bowed up for a firmer touch. “Want more?”

“Yes,” she whispered
unsteadily.

His fingers found the front
clasp of the bra and unsnapped it. The halves popped apart and caught on the
plump mounds. He dragged each cup aside, revealing the beautiful creamy flesh
beneath. Her nipples were erect points, begging for his touch. “So pretty, Charissa.”
Enjoying the feel of her ass squirming against his dick, he played with her
breasts, feathering the tender curves and circling each bud with his fingers.

“More,” she whispered, her
voice husky with arousal.

“Say it, sweetness. Tell me what
you need.”

“Touch my nipples. Play with
them—ohh...” Her head fell back, eyelashes sweeping down as he took one hard
peak between his fingers and rolled gently.

“Like that?”

She nodded and licked her
lips, shivering in his hold.

“Softer?”

“No. Don’t stop,” she begged
when he gentled his touch.

“Mmm, but I have to. Don’t
want to leave out this other pretty nipple.” He grasped it, experimenting with
pressure and motion, using her gasps and sighs, the restless shifting of her
body to guide him. She was so hot, so sexy like this. “You love it when I
squeeze them, don’t you?”

She nodded helplessly, eyes
closed. Sinking deeper into sensation. Right where he wanted her. Making this
headstrong, independent woman tremble and surrender to her most secret desires turned
him on like nothing else.

He pleasured her gently,
loving every second of her response. “Imagine how good it would feel to have my
tongue licking you here.” She moaned and tried to twist as he eased the
pressure of his fingers, wanting a firmer touch. “I’d lick at them, suck on
them just the way you like until you begged me to touch your pussy.”

A frustrated whimper escaped,
but she didn’t try to pull free. Didn’t ask him to stop. That small show of
trust both humbled and aroused him.

“Are you wet, sweetness? Is
your pussy all hot and aching for me?”

“Oh God, Dillon...” She let
out a choked moan when he stopped playing with her nipple to cradle her breast.
“Please...”

Her heart pounded beneath his
hand as he kneaded the soft flesh. “Mmm, I love that sound. Love hearing you beg
like that.”

She pressed her head against
his shoulder, sunk her teeth deep into her lower lip. He praised her with low
murmurs, soft kisses against her jawline, her temple. Charissa turned toward
him, her mouth searching for his. Needing to taste her, he caught her head with
one hand and angled it to stroke his tongue into her mouth. She strained in his
hold and sucked at his tongue, trying to turn in his arms. Dillon groaned and
gently explored her mouth, reveling in each soft cry, each tremor that wracked
her gorgeous curves as he held her in place.

When he broke the kiss, she
whined in protest and tried to follow him, but he restrained her with his arm
across her waist, still holding her wrists. Her thighs shifted restlessly. She
jerked and let out a keening moan when he tugged at her nipple, rolling it
carefully between his fingertips, savoring every twist of her hips against his
throbbing cock.

Tightening his hold on her, he
buried his face in her neck and growled in pleasure. He could come just like
this, fully clothed, from simply letting her luscious ass writhe against him.
But he wanted to take her to this side of heaven before he slid his cock into
her. Wanted to hear her beg for it first. To feel her thrust against him, hear
her sob his name as he filled her.

Reining in the hunger lashing
at him, he slid his hand away from her straining nipple, soothing her with more
whispered praise as he caressed the silken skin of her belly. He circled his
palm there, trailing past her captive fists to cup the denim covering her
mound. She let out a choked sound and widened her thighs, her hips lifting in a
silent plea.

His arm contracted around her.
“Stay still.” Even through the jeans he could feel the incredible heat pouring
off her. But he wanted to take Charissa further under. Give her a truer taste
of what being helpless in his arms would feel like so she wouldn’t be afraid
anymore.

Keeping one hand between her
legs and the other locked around her wrists, he wound his legs around hers and
pressed them open and down, immobilizing her. She instinctively tensed for a
moment, and he simply waited, holding her captive like that until she gave in
and relaxed.

“That’s a good girl,” he
murmured against her ear. Her answering shiver and rapid breaths were all the
response he needed. Her body was slowly unfurling for him, instinctively
beginning to trust him. It made him ache. God, he needed this from her. Needed
it so much it shook him.

Her hands twitched in his grip
as he popped the button at the top of her jeans free. Lowering the zipper, he
lingered over the smooth skin he exposed, stroking with the pads of his fingers
until he met the delicate edge of lace that covered her mound. He paused there
a moment, letting her wonder what he would do, then slid his hand beneath the
fabric to cup her pussy, all slippery soft against his fingers. She sucked in a
breath and he bit back a moan. Breathing fast, she squirmed in his arms, trying
to grind against his hand, but his body kept her pinned and open for his touch.

“You’re so hot and wet,
sweetness. I think you like being held down,” he said in a low voice.

Trembling, she nodded and
licked her lips. “Please just touch me. God, Dillon, I need you to touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He
increased the pressure ever so slightly, enjoying the broken gasp that caught
in her throat, the way her lower back arched. His favorite fantasy of her unfolded
in his mind as he carefully explored the tender flesh of her pussy. Warm, slick
paradise met his searching fingers as he parted her labia. “If I had you tied
up right now, I could play with your nipples while I slid my tongue into these
soft, wet folds.”

She groaned in frustration and
tried unsuccessfully to buck against his palm.

“I’d lick you over and over,
tease this hard little clit until you screamed my name,” he said, softly
grazing the edge of the swollen bud with a fingertip.

She caught her breath,
trembled, every muscle drawn tight. “Don’t tease me. Please, I need this.”

The desperation, the raw need
in her voice shook him. He remembered what she’d said about not being able to
come and realized she was probably frantic the sensation would disappear if he
didn’t hurry. Something swelled in his chest until it squeezed his heart. “It’s
okay. Trust me to take care of your body.” He would never leave her unsatisfied.

She was almost there,
gradually trusting him more, so turned on it tied him in knots. “Look at you. So
close already, sweetness,” he crooned. “So ready to come, and I’ve barely
touched you. Imagine how good it would feel if I was licking your clit...sucking
on it softly while I did this.” He speared a finger into her tight pussy, the
inner muscles contracting around him as she cried out. He stroked deep, pressing
upward to rub against her inner hot spot, then stopping.

She whispered his name, shaking
with need, but he was relentless. “I’d lick you and suck you so sweetly while I
fucked you with my fingers. Feel you squeeze around me, melt on my tongue while
you were tied down.” He thrust his finger deep inside, his thumb stroking her
clit gently.

“Dillon!” His name tore from
her in a ragged cry.

Instantly, he lifted his hand
away from her needy flesh, sensing her reaching the edge of release. “No, not yet,”
he whispered. “Not yet.”

She ground the back of her
head against his shoulder, her expression tormented. “God, I
need
it.
Please let me—”

“Shh. Trust me to give you what
you need.” Christ. In all his life he’d never found so much pleasure in the
giving of it. Arousing her to the point that she writhed and begged was the most
erotic thing he’d ever experienced. He wanted to bind her to him in this most
primal way, show her exactly how willing he was to satisfy her needs, that she
could trust him in such an intimate way. Then maybe she’d believe he wanted her
for much more than sex. “You trust me, sweetness?”

She was panting, eyes squeezed
shut, body poised on the brink of orgasm, yet part of her still fought what she
was feeling. Just like he’d imagined she would. But he wouldn’t let her deny her
needs anymore.

When his words finally registered,
she managed a weak nod. After a moment, her whole body softened, her muscles shuddering
once before they loosened. That final sign of surrender. Of a trust so implicit
it made him ache inside. Dillon closed his eyes and pressed his face into the
curve of her neck. Every protective instinct he had flared to life. He wanted
to hold her, shield her and give her all the pleasure she could take.

“That’s a good girl,” he
murmured when she relaxed fully, his heart flooded with tenderness. Careful to
stay away from her clit, he explored her soft folds until she settled against
him and dropped her head back in surrender. “There we go, just sink into it. So
perfect, baby. So damn beautiful like this.” She was hot and slick beneath his
fingertips, making his mouth water for a taste of her. But first she deserved
the climax he’d denied her so far. “All right, sweetness. I’m gonna make you
come now.”

Her eyes opened, the blue
depths glazed with pleasure and need as she stared up at him. Little tremors
shook her body.

“Nice and slow,” he whispered,
holding her gaze and her wrists as he began to circle her swollen clit. “Let it
build. You know you’re safe with me, that it’s okay to let go.”

She trembled at his words,
gazing up at him while he rendered her unable to move or do anything but feel
what he did to her. The instant his thumb caressed the edge of her clit, her
head fell back and she cried out, the sound sharp and loud in the night.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Let me
feel it, sweetness. I want to feel you come all over my fingers.”

He thrust two fingers into her
tight sheath and stroked her clit with his thumb. Her pussy clamped around him
rhythmically. She threw her head back and sobbed out her release, hips bucking
against his hand despite his hold on her waist. The pulses tore through her in
waves, and he helped her ride them out until she collapsed against him, limp
with the pleasure he’d given her.

Fingers still buried inside
her, his cock ready to burst, he released her wrists and wrapped his arm around
her, enjoying the simple satisfaction of holding the woman who had stolen his
heart.

****

Charissa couldn’t move. Dillon
wasn’t even restraining her anymore, but her muscles had turned to melted wax.
His fingers were pressed deep inside her pussy as tiny echoes of pleasure
coursed through her exhausted body. Her heart was still beating way too fast,
and she couldn’t catch her breath.

The pleasure he’d given her
was indescribable. Her brain could hardly process it. He’d been so amazingly
skilled, so tender with her in spite of his control over her body. But inside
she was quaking, some unknown part of her famished for his approval, his
reassurance. She’d always been turned on by the idea of being tied up in bed,
and now she knew for certain that her body loved it, too. But what kind of
person needed to be held down in order to have an orgasm?

She gasped when Dillon gently
withdrew his fingers from her pussy, too sated to be embarrassed at the amount
of moisture between her legs.

His warm lips pressed against
her temple. “Okay?”

Nodding, she forced her tired muscles
to obey and twisted around. She reached for him without a second thought,
hungry for the feel of his strong arms around her. Dillon made a rough sound as
he wrapped them around her back, cradling her when she burrowed into his chest.
His body heat and the steady throb of his heartbeat soothed her, his embrace
chasing away the frightening emptiness that had opened up inside her.

She could feel the hard
outline of his erection against her hip, yet his hands were infinitely gentle
on her hair, her back. He held her so perfectly, like he cherished her. It
brought a lump to her throat. She was in bad trouble here, already losing her
heart to him.

Raising her face, she found
both tenderness and leashed passion in his gaze. It was her undoing.

Charissa threaded her hands
into his thick hair and kissed him, showing him without words how much he meant
to her and how much she wanted him. Dillon cradled the back of her head and
groaned into her mouth, answering the stroke of her tongue.