Only for the Night (If Only Book 2) (15 page)

“Hank.” His name was more gasp than anything, a sharp accompaniment to the wet sounds of his suckling and the heavy breathing she couldn’t seem to control. She couldn’t control anything, it seemed. The knowledge blanketed her, submerged her in a cocoon of arousal as the tight draw of his mouth eased off one breast and switched to the other. A faint tug at her waist—his hand undoing the button of her jeans. She lay in his arms, the loss of control, the illusion of submission swamping her, and all she could do was hang on.

The rasp of the zipper reached her ears. Warm, tough skin smoothed a path down her belly, and then Hank was delving deep once more, this time between her legs. She widened her thighs as much as she could, straining toward him, desperate for a touch that, when it came, brought a sharp cry to her lips. Those rough fingertips, calloused from his heavy guitar strings, slid down either side of her clit to her opening, pushed in the slightest bit but not nearly enough, then withdrew, taking her moisture with them. He circled her most sensitive spot until she couldn’t stand any more. Her knee lifted of its own accord to ride his hip, opening her completely, pulling her closer, and Hank’s fingers slid straight into her, deep, so deep.

That was all it took for her body to detonate.

Long moments later she came back to awareness, standing upright, Hank’s arms a safe, sensual cage as he rocked her gently. His cock was a hard rod against her belly, too high for her to rub against, squeeze the last remaining drops of sensation from her climax, but it didn’t matter. When she turned her face up to Hank’s, the hunger there assured her they were nowhere near done.

His kiss was gentle, coaxing. Far too brief. He leaned back to look at her, his satisfaction at what he found washing through his eyes. No problem reading him now, even in the dim light of the living room. “Goddamn, baby.”

She managed a faint smile. “That was a long time coming.”

Hank flat-out grinned. “Then I’m happy to oblige.” Without waiting for a response, he hooked an arm beneath her knees and hauled her into his arms.

Sage squeaked, the sound embarrassingly loud, and slung her arms around his neck. “Whoa!”

Hank was already striding toward the hall. “We won’t be whoa-ing for a long time, baby.”

“I don’t know.” She brought her mouth to the rough skin below his jawline. “I’m feeling a little tired.”

Hank stumbled when she opened her mouth to that thick muscle along the side of his neck. When she drew on him like he’d drawn on her nipples, he cursed.

“Tired, huh?”

She nodded, her head bumping his chin.

“Well, baby, let’s see what I can do about that.”

He took her straight to the bathroom, not because they needed to get clean but because he wanted any excuse he could get to see her naked again. Not beneath the covers of a bed, not in the dim light of the moon through the curtains in his or her room. He wanted bright light and nowhere to hide when he took her for the very first time.

He nudged the light switch up as he carried Sage inside. He was a big man, and he’d had the bathroom built to accommodate his size and his love of space. A wide counter with double sinks lined one wall, and the other held a walk-in shower big enough for three. Of course, as close as he planned to keep Sage, the shower could be half that size and it wouldn’t matter. He set Sage on her feet on the fluffy rug in front of the sinks, closed the door behind them to keep the room warm, then faced her.

She’d pulled her shirt back down, covering those amazing breasts, and in the wake of her climax, something soft and uncertain had settled into her eyes. He didn’t want her uncertain; he wanted her frantic and climbing his body like she’d been back in the living room. He took a step toward her, then stopped himself.

Careful.

“Take off your clothes, baby.”

He could be gentle, but he couldn’t wait. Bending down, he snatched at the knots that tied his boots together, pulling them just loose enough that he could nudge the shoes off. His fingers went to the button of his jeans.

Sage made a sound, a kind of half groan, half choke. When he glanced over, she was standing there, watching, eyes glazing over with the return of need—and she wasn’t naked.

This he could give her.

The buttons of the dress shirt he’d worn to the party slid from their holes with ease, one at a time, allowing the fabric to gape open. He forced himself to breathe, to go slow, despite the frantic beating of his heart and the scream of his balls drawn up tight to his body. He wanted inside her with a ferocity that threatened every last bit of control he had, and that’s what scared him. He didn’t lose control, not with a woman, especially not when she was vulnerable. He’d never been more aware of his size, his strength than he was when Sage was beside him, against him. The hunger for her shook him, but he wouldn’t give in. He’d protect her, even from himself.

The shirt slid down his arms. He watched Sage trace the outline of his tats with her gaze, watched her tongue leave a wet trail along her lips. The white tank he wore beneath his dress shirt came off next, and at the sight of his bare chest, Sage’s eyes dilated. Damn if that didn’t make him want to puff his chest out like a peacock.

His fingers shook as he fumbled with his jeans, but he managed to undo the button and slide down the zipper. When he shucked them down his legs, he took his underwear and then his socks with them, leaving him bare in the stark light. His cock throbbed like a son of a bitch, and he couldn’t resist fisting the hard shaft, squeezing down to counteract his need to spill before he ever got inside her.

Sage stepped toward him. “Fuck.”

The curse was hoarse, and when he looked up, she was focused on his erection. He wasn’t hung like a stallion, but he was built in proportion to the rest of his body, and he’d had more than one woman comment on his size. The look on Sage’s face said she appreciated what she saw, even if it worried her a little.

When she got close enough, she reached out a hand. Hank felt a pre-orgasmic tingle hit the base of his spine.

He captured her hand before she could reach him. “You’re not undressed.”

Wide eyes clashed with his. A pretty pink blush stained Sage’s cheeks. She made no move to take off her clothes, seeming stuck in the haze of arousal pulsing around them. Beautiful eyes traced his body with longing and pleasure, the stare a touch he could imagine feeling on his skin. He wanted to feel her on his skin, and he was done waiting.

He dropped her hand and had her shirt over her head a second later. Sage gasped as her bra slid down her arms. Her hair was disheveled around her face like she’d…well, like she’d just had an orgasm. Her face had that heavy-lidded look that spoke of satisfaction, but the peaks of her breasts—her naked, beautiful breasts—were tight, pushing toward him, telling him without words that they weren’t anywhere near done.

He agreed with them.

His lips were too hard when he kissed her, forcing her willing mouth open, his hand at her jaw gripping a bit too tight as his tongue plundered her, played with her, pleasured her, but he couldn’t stop. Had no desire to. Her nipples brushed the bare skin of his rib cage, pressed in. He scooped her off the floor, plastering her against him until all he could feel was her heart beating in her breasts and her mouth surrendering to him. Somehow he managed to maneuver them to the counter and settle her on top of it, but he didn’t give her an inch of space; he needed her skin to skin, needed her beneath him, needed to smother her until all she could breathe in was him.

Sage squirmed. Hank pulled back, realizing immediately that she wasn’t trying to get away. His thighs trapped her legs against the counter, and when he moved, she opened her thighs to him, pulled him in so they were breasts to chest, pelvis to pelvis.

And ground against him.

“Sage…God!” He dropped his head, sucking in air in a desperate bid for control. When his brow hit the bare skin of her shoulder, he followed it blindly until his mouth found that sensitive spot where neck and shoulder meet. Sage ground against him again, and without thought he bit down, controlling her, dominating her, making her feel who her master wa—

A sudden cry woke him from the fog of need.

“Damn it.” He planted his fists on the mirror on either side of her head, his own hanging down so she couldn’t see his face as he breathed deep over and over.
Careful, goddamn it! Careful.

A tentative touch slid down his arm. “Hank?”

Shame kept him from meeting Sage’s eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He shook his head. “Too fast, and too rough. I’m sorry.”

Get inside her before you really lose it and do something you can never take back.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Make sure she’s ready.

He sucked in another breath. A glance down aligned his mouth with her breasts. “Perfect.”

He started to feast, barely registering Sage’s grip as she dragged him closer. He opened wide to take all of her in, the whole areole, pressing her tight nipple to the roof of his mouth and sucking, barely able to moderate his hunger enough not to hurt. He wanted to hurt, to gorge, to devour her until she couldn’t remember anything but his mouth on her breasts. Until he knew for a fact she would feel him on her flesh for days to come. But he couldn’t; she was so small, and he needed to take care of her, not give in to the monster lurking inside. Bad enough he’d lost it once already; he refused to hurt her again.

He was definitely a breast man, and Sage had the best breasts he’d ever put his mouth—or anything else—on. The rise of her moans and pants and begging told him his attention was kicking her arousal into overdrive too. He switched to the other side, taking in the gorgeous red color of her nipple with satisfaction before getting the other to match. It wasn’t until his erection was screaming with need and Sage was clawing his back, her wordless cries ringing in his ears, that he finally released her.

Her eyes were squeezed tight as she moved restlessly beneath him. Laid back on the counter, shoulder blades against the mirror, body completely open to him, she was a feast fit for kings, one he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of. The sight of her breasts shivering as the air brushed cool fingers over those swollen nipples kicked a shot of pure adrenaline down his cock. He needed her. Now.

He tore open the button of her jeans, jerked down the zipper, and gripped both sides. “Up.” One word, guttural, almost unrecognizable, but Sage obeyed, lifted, allowing him to drag the skintight material off her legs. He took her underwear and socks and slip-on boots with it. When he stood back upright, his breath caught. The hot-pink center of her body glistened with arousal, and Hank’s mouth watered. He wanted to taste that cream, savor it, drive her over the edge again and again, but he was a past savoring right now. He barely had the presence of mind to retrieve a condom from his jeans and jerk it down his aching shaft.

“Sage,” he growled.

“Don’t wait.” One hand lifted to push her hair back from her face, and he could see it was shaking. “Please don’t wait.”

He palmed his cock. A hard swallow stuck in his throat when Sage drew her knees up until her feet rested on the very edge of the counter. “Ready?”

“Ready,” she whispered. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip. Hank took her mouth at the same time he breached her unguarded core with a thick finger, then two.

Sage screamed into his kiss.

Tight. So tight. He could barely push through the clenched muscles of her vagina. He sucked Sage’s tongue into his mouth, circling his fingers to ease her open, little by little, until the full length was wedged inside her. Sage panted against his lips, around his tongue, but when he opened his eyes to stare into hers, her eyes shone with dazed pleasure. He pulled his fingers away, then surged back inside, burying them to the hilt. Sage titled her hips, offering herself without reserve. Getting into her was a fight, but one she seemed to need as much as he needed to be inside her. Only when he decided she was ready did he replace his hand with his cockhead—his fingers he brought to their mouths to smear the sweet cream across Sage’s lips, her tongue.

“Suck,” he told her, and she did, nursing his fingers as he eased inside her.

Her eyes went wide at the feel of his thick erection, but she didn’t protest. She sucked instead, taking every bit of her own arousal from his fingers, and when they were clean and he was halfway in, she turned her head to free herself before offering him her mouth. “Hank?”

He knew what she wanted; his lips met hers. The tangy taste of woman and Sage’s sweet flavor filled his senses even as he dug his hands beneath her and pulled inexorably until she was pinned on the full length of him. Sage squealed against his mouth, a high, surprised sound, and immediately orgasmed around his throbbing cock.

Oh God.

He couldn’t wait, couldn’t stop himself from thrusting through each pulse of her release. With every move into her tight body, he swore she wouldn’t be able to take him, that he was simply too big, but every time, she accepted him to the hilt. Each push seemed to take forever, each retreat as fast as he could make it so he could start all over again. And every second he fought the need to drag her hard against him, fuck himself inside her until it finally,
finally
felt deep enough, until they were both bruised and sore and thoroughly satisfied.