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“Later.”
He swallowed.
“Maybe.”

Once would barely take the edge off. He knew it as surely as
he knew he
probably wasn’t going to
last long and that this wasn’t the way he wanted it, wanted
her.

“I’m
not
looking
for
a
quickie
here,
Lanie
,”
he
ground
out,
harsher
than
he
meant to.

She
frowned. “You’re
not?”

It
was
tempting,
so
damn
tempting.
She’d
be
hot
and
wet,
soft
and
ready
to
take
him.
And
he
was
so
hard
it
felt
as
if
he
was
about
to
burst.
It
would
be
a
simple
matter to lift up her dress, unzip
himself
and slide into
her.

Oh
yeah.

“No.” He shook at the thought of it because she wouldn’t stop
him, he knew it,
but he needed to
remember the plan, the end game. “I plan to take my time, a lot of
it.”

She
licked her lips and his cock twitched in immediate response. “And
then?”

He
smiled,
his
thoughts
savage
at
the
look
of
anticipation
on
her
face.
“Then
I’ll start all
over.”

The
drive
over
to
his
hotel
might
have
only
taken
ten
minutes,
but
it’d
felt
like
forever
as
she’d
sat
in
the
car,
conscious
of
his
size
and
heat—and
the
scent
of
him—
teasing her. They’d barely spoken, which was probably a good thing. After the
way
he kept looking at her,
especially after he’d caught her checking out the bulge between
his legs
more
than
once,
she
wasn’t
sure
she
could
have
strung
coherent
words
together anyway. And it had been
impressive, the bulge that is.
More
than.

The elevator ride had been the worst. Rex had leaned back
against the wall
and watched
her,
his
gaze
bold
and
hot.
His
stance
had
appeared
relaxed,
but
she
knew better.
He
hadn’t
said
a
word,
he
hadn’t
needed
to.
The
way
he
looked
at
her
told
her more
than
words
what
was
going
to
happen
when
he
finally
got
her
behind
closed doors.

Oh
boy.

Her heart slammed against her chest when they reached his
room and he closed
the
door,
turned
and
backed
her
up
against
it.
It
seemed
he
had
a
thing
for
hard
surfaces, which
was
okay
with
her.
They
were
alone,
really,
totally
alone
and
unlikely
to
be interrupted.

“
Lanie
,” he
breathed.

He
wasn’t
a
lot
taller
than
he’d
been
the
last
time
she’d
seen
him,
but
his
lean,
rangy
form
was
all
hard
strength.
She’d
never
been
this
close
to
him
before,
not
really,
so why did it feel as if they’d done this before? Perhaps she’d just imagined
it so
many times, played it over and
over in her head, had wanted it so bad and for so long it felt
as if it couldn’t possibly be the first
time.

Without
another word he knelt on the floor in front of
her.

“Rex,”
she
gasped.

Her
mouth went dry, she tried to swallow, but it was
useless. Was he going
to
—

“I
want to see how wet you got for me, how wet you still
are.”

Oh
God he
was.

She shuddered. She could have told him, yet any ability to
speak deserted her
when he
eased
the
skirt
of
her
dress
up.
She
felt
the
cool
air
against
her
thighs,
the
swollen,
damp
flesh
between
her
legs.
She
should
have
felt
exposed,
self-conscious
at
the
very
least,
yet
she
could
only
watch
him,
mesmerized
as
he
looked
at
her
as
if
he
were
memorizing every detail. And thank whatever whim had her forgoing her
panties tonight.

His
nostrils flared. “
Lanie
…look at
you.”

Her earlier orgasm had done nothing to ease her need, had
only seemed to ramp
it up
even
more.
It
hadn’t
been
enough,
not
nearly
enough.
Heat
washed
through
her when he licked the pad of his thumb. She swallowed. One touch
and—

She jerked when he rubbed it against her clit in a bold,
circular motion. She felt
the tremble
in
her
legs,
tried
to
concentrate
on
breathing,
but
only
managed
to
draw
in
a
shaky breath when he urged one of her legs
wider.

“Hold
this.”

Oh
God.

Lanie
bunched the fabric of her
dress in a tightly clenched fist as he leaned
forward and put his mouth on her. There was no hesitation, no tentative
exploration with
gentle lips or a
coaxing tongue. No, Rex’s mouth was hot and insistent against her, his
tongue demanding
and
forceful
as
he
lapped
at
her,
slow
and
then
fast
and
all
the
while
his
thumb
rubbed against her clit in a steady, maddening rhythm that had her balanced
at the edge again in
seconds.

He’d
done this before.
Probably a
lot.

“Rex,”
she
moaned
when
he
lifted
a
thigh
and
put
it
over
one
of
his
shoulders, never
pausing
in
his
wicked
assault.
It
was
all
she
could
do
not
to
grab
his
head
and
grind
herself
against him. She reached out to grab on to something, anything, but
there was nothing. Her hand ended up
fisted in his dark hair and then she was doing
exactly that…holding his head and rocking herself against his mouth, his
wicked tongue.
Back
and forth.
Back and
forth.

Lanie
threw back her head and
squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She could
hear
herself
moaning,
gasping,
but
didn’t
care,
she
couldn’t.
The
pressure
between
her
legs grew and spread, raging through her
body until she couldn’t hear anything, could
only
feel
as sweet, surging pleasure washed through her and she
catapulted over.
With
seeming ease.
Again.

“Thank you.” The deep voice rumbled out of him as he released
her leg slowly
and bit
at
the
crease
of
her
thigh,
low
on
her
abdomen,
immediately
licking
hotly
over
the
slight
stings.

He
was
thanking
her
?

“For?” she managed when he rose in front of her and cupped
her between her
legs in
his
hot
palm,
sliding
his
fingers
back
and
forth
across
wet,
swollen
flesh
and
nerves still
bunched
tight
and
very,
very
sensitive.
She
held
back
a
whimper.
He
might
have meant it as a soothing caress. It was
anything
but.

His eyes were dark, the look in them hot, his skin stretched
taut over
flushed cheeks. She barely
held back from thrusting her hips against his hand. She wanted
him inside
her,
wanted
his
hard
fingers,
his
cock,
to
fill
her,
to
drive
into
her
until
she
was
mindless with
it.

“You’re so soft,” he said, watching his hand and what he was
doing to her with it.
Lanie
looked down, her throat
tight and her breath froze. He was hard and big, pushing against the fabric of
his pants, stretching the confines of his zipper and her mouth watered. She
hadn’t touched him yet and how she wanted to.
Now
.

“You’re
not.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but she knew he
heard.

A
savage
smile
tilted
the
corners
of
his
mouth
as
he
removed
his
hand.
Watching
her
closely,
he
raised
his
fingers
to
his
lips
and
sucked
them
into
his
mouth.
Her
pulse jumped,
the
flesh
between
her
legs
pulsed
and
then
she
did
whimper.
His
eyelids
flickered,
his
jaw
flexed.
He
grabbed
her
hand
and
walked
backward
toward
the
bed, almost as if he couldn’t bear to take
his eyes off
her.

“
Lanie
two.
Rex
zero
,”
he
drawled.
“I
think
it’s
time
we
evened
things
out,
don’t you?”

Oh.
God.
Yes.

Rex was her go-to fantasy.
Always had been.
His was the image she called up
when she
needed to send herself over, the hands she thought about stroking her,
tormenting her, the body she dreamed of
fucking her, hard and fast when she needed it most.
And
the arms she
imagined holding her at night when she just needed warm and
strong.

And
she was going to get everything, all of that and more, right now.
But
first…

Rex’s
gaze
tracked
the
curve
of
her
smooth
back,
imagining
licking
up
the
line
of
her
spine, maybe when he was buried deep inside her from behind. He frowned
when she took something out of the small
purse she’d managed to hold on to and set it on
the bedside
table.

She turned to him then, her bottom lip red where she’d been
biting at it, her
cheeks still flushed.
It would give him a rush for a long time to know he’d put that flush
there.
Twice
now.

She
clasped
her
hands
together
in
front
of
her
and
looked
up
at
him.
His
body clenched at the way she looked at him
but damn, he didn’t want her to be nervous.
He wanted to hear those uninhibited sounds from the back of her throat
again, panted
into his ear,
preferably while he was buried deep inside her this
time.

“It’s…a
lot of women need… It’s no big deal,
right?”

 He
reached past her and picked up the small
bottle.

What
the—

His gaze flew back to hers. She licked her lips and his pulse
hammered.
Hard.

“It’s— I just—it helps, you know,
so…”

She broke off as he tossed it over his shoulder. He didn’t
much care where it ended up.

“You
don’t
need
that,”
he
ground
out.
Christ,
what
kind
of
losers
had
she
been with?

“But—”

“Trust
me. You won’t need it.
We
won’t need
it.”

She’d
gotten
so
hot
and
so
wet
for
him
there’s
no
way
she
needed
lubricant,
and especially not with him. He’d make damn sure of
it.

“Um,
okay…protection, what about protection? I’ve
got—”

“I’ve
got it
covered.”

She closed her eyes and lowered her head. “You must think I’m
an idiot,”
she groaned.

“I’m
thinking
a
lot
of
things
right
now,”
he
rasped.
“Most
of
them
hot
and
dirty.
But the
door’s
locked, the blinds are closed and the
light…” He’d seen her glance at
the
lamp.
“Is staying
on.”

She
raised
her
gaze
to
his
and
sighed.
“Okay.”
The
acceptance
and
trust
in
her
expression dropped the bottom right out of his world and he couldn’t wait.
Not anymore.

He felt her tremble, all big, wide eyes when he put his hands
to the back of her
neck and tugged at
the
tie
he’d tormented himself with since he’d seen
her enter the
hall.

“And the thank you?
Among other
things it was for wearing something that lets
me do
this.”

She
drew
in
a
quick
breath
when
the
halter
of
her
dress
fell
forward
to
her
waist, exposing her breasts to him, her
full, gorgeous
breasts.

Oh.
Yeah.

He covered her with both hands, slid his palms across her
silky skin, taking
the weight of
her. He got a punch to his gut as he flicked across the hard, pink nipples
with his
thumbs
and
her
eyes
closed
with
a
ragged
intake
of
breath.
His
cock
flexed
in response,
his
balls
tightened
in
a
painful
rush.
She
was
soft,
full
and
so
beautiful
he shook with
it.

He
skimmed
his
hands
down
her
sides,
smiling
savagely
when
she
moaned
at
the
loss
of
contact,
and
bunched
his
fingers
in
the
dress
at
her
hips.
He
pushed,
easing
it down until it pooled at her
feet.

He
wanted
to
taste
her,
to
lick
and
suck
on
her
nipples,
to
take
his
time
to
explore
her fucking
everywhere
, but he wanted her under him too with a need that
was
eroding what
little
control
he
had
left.
The
need
to
push
her
back,
spread
her
wide
and
shove
himself inside her, surround himself with her heat, pounded at
him.

He took a deep breath in a feeble attempt to slow himself the
hell down, but it
was less than
useless.

“Lie
back.
On
the
bed.”
He
barely
managed
to
get
the
words
out
so
they
were
understandable.
It
was
all
he
could
do
to
actually
take
his
hands
off
her
to
remove
his own
clothes.

He tore at the buttons at the front of his shirt as she sat
down and scooted
backward into the center
of the bed. Her gaze ate at him, her chest rising and falling with
shallow
breaths. He swallowed as he glimpsed the shadowed slit between her legs,
jerked at
his shirt
and
heard
fabric
tear.
He
wanted,
no,
he
needed
to
go
down
on
her
again,
needed the taste of her on him, in
him.

“Open
your
legs.”

His gaze locked on her as she eased her thighs apart. Not
enough, not
nearly enough. He yanked
the shirt from his
shoulders.