The Girl's Guide to (Man)Hunting (16 page)

“Such pretty skin,” he told her, plumping both breasts together so he could switch back and forth between the nipples. Even as he ran his tongue over one tip, she faltered underneath him, and he noticed her hands sliding off of his shirt. When he bit her nipple again, she gasped, but it wasn’t the sexy, excited little gasp that she’d given before.

Miranda was thinking again. What on earth was she thinking about?

He lifted his head and moved forward to press a kiss to her mouth. “Miranda?”

She gave him a hesitant smile, but said nothing.

His hands moved over her breasts and he pinched both nipples at once, causing her body to jolt. The blurry, dazed look returned to her eyes, and then quickly faded again.

“What are you thinking, Mir?”

She bit her lip—fuck, that did amazing things to his cock when she did that—and then glanced away.

He pinched both her nipples again, harder—and she yelped.

“Miranda,” he said in a husky voice. “Don’t make me bite you into a confession.”

She shivered at that, but he couldn’t tell if it was a good shiver or a bad one.

“I was just…I’m enjoying myself,” she said after a moment. “Really.”

But what? He watched her face, then watched her expression as his thumbs gently brushed over the tips. That flutter of excitement passed over her face again, then quickly disappeared, followed by the faintest line between her eyebrows, as if she were concentrating very hard and somehow failing. Did she think she needed to come already? Because hell, they were just getting started.

He slid back down over her, pressing kisses to her neck and collarbone before returning to her breasts. Damn, he liked her breasts. He plumped one breast in his hand and then licked the nipple like he would an ice cream. “So,” he said casually. “I knew a girl once who could get off on nipple play.”

Her expression became bewildered, then flustered. Her hands pushed at him. “Why are you telling me this right now, you creep?”

Dane pinned her arm over her head again, his face leaning in close to hers. Her arm over her head left her breast high and arching, and he reached out to casually play with the nipple, toying with the tip, enjoying the goose bumps his touch left behind on her skin. “I said that I knew one girl, Miranda.
One.
She was one of the locker room bunnies that would show up and hope to bang a player. My buddies passed her around for a while. She’d show
up at every home game, looking to score, and she’d come over the smallest touch. And she came a
lot
. She was noisy as hell, too. She really liked having her breasts touched, and she’d come as soon as someone touched her there.”

Miranda’s glare could have melted steel. She’d gone completely stiff in his arms.

“One time I went in to the locker room and noticed that she was in there, waiting for one of the guys to pay attention to her, and in the meantime, she was rubbing herself up against a doorknob, and getting off.”

Her glare turned into a smothered laugh. His own smile returned, and he leaned in to give her a gentle kiss. “She was the only girl I’d ever known who could get off on some guy touching her nipples. Most girls require a lot more work and a lot more foreplay, and I don’t want you thinking there’s something wrong with you because you can’t get off on doorknobs.”

She laughed, that sultry little giggle that she always tried to smother but leaked out anyhow. His cock went even harder at the sound. He was going to lose control if he didn’t start thinking about something unsexy. Like hockey. That always made his dick want to shrivel.

“Understand what I’m saying?” he said huskily, teasing that perky nipple. Fuck, he loved touching her breasts. He could caress them all night, and he told her so. Her eyes widened at that, and the soft, melting look returned to her eyes. “When I touch you, Miranda,” he said softly, “I don’t expect you to shatter instantly. I expect you to enjoy it and tell me what you like. Understand?”

She bit her lip again, and nodded. “I wasn’t a virgin the other
night, you know. I realize that I seem like a big nervous idiot, but I just want you to know—”

“You don’t have to explain to me,” he said huskily. “Just let me touch you. I enjoy touching you.”

Miranda hesitated, then relaxed underneath him.

Clearly Miranda wasn’t used to men moving slowly in bed. That was a shame. Maybe she rushed them, trying to speed along the inevitable. Not him. He could spend all night playing with her breasts, teasing her body just to watch her reactions. But if he was losing her, that wasn’t good. He sat up, and moved his hands to her belt.

Her body tensed underneath him, her eyes wide as she watched him undo the button on her shorts and lower the zipper.

Her stomach moved up and down with her excited breathing, but when he looked up at her face, she showed anticipation…and a hint of nervousness. If she’d had oral sex, she hadn’t had it often, he decided. And he determined right then and there that she was going to enjoy it with him.

He lifted her hips off the ground and pulled the shorts down off her legs, tossing them aside. All that was left was a tiny pair of panties low on her hips, a charming pink ruffle on the waistband.

As if sensing his thoughts, her hands flew to the panties protectively. “You can’t rip these. They’re my favorites.”

Dane grinned down at her. “Better take them off fast, then.”

She lifted her hips and slid them down with a quick shimmy, then pushed them aside.

He moved between her legs, forcing them to part, and pulled his shirt off, throwing it on the blanket next to her clothing. He
wanted to take his shorts off, but right now that was the only thing keeping him from sliding between her legs and fucking her right away, so he left them on. He groaned when her fingertips slid over his stomach, tracing his muscles.

“You have an amazing chest,” she said in a soft, low voice filled with wonder. “It looks so perfectly formed—like a sculpture.” Her fingertips trailed to his belly button and brushed the line of dark hair on his stomach, moving to the waistband of his pants.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice husky. He slid down on the crinkling blanket, kissing her belly again. The quiver returned to her body, her skin reacting with shivering goose bumps every time he kissed it. He kissed her belly button, then moved lower, and she began to tense underneath him. He reached up and took her hand in his, twining her fingers with his own even as he kissed the soft skin lower. “You just tell me if you want me to stop, all right?”

She laughed, the sound a little nervous. “Why would I ever tell you to stop?”

Ah, bravado. He recognized it well. He said nothing, simply continued to kiss the soft crease between thigh and pelvis, running his tongue along it in a way that made her body tremble. Then he placed one hand over the warmth of her mound, and she jumped slightly.

Her fingers clenched in his. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m jumpy tonight.”

“No worries,” he said, then brushed his fingers over the trim brown curls hiding her sex. He ran a finger over the edge of the lips, from the front all the way down to where it led into the deep
well of her body, then ran his finger back up again. She was soaked, her sex slick and wet, and his fingertip was damp just from her wetness. The body shivers hadn’t stopped, and her fingers clenched his tightly—but when he looked up, she still had the soft look in her eyes. Good. “You have a lovely pussy, Miranda,” he said. “So soft and shy. Been waiting all day to kiss it.”

Her back arched slightly, as if anticipating the kiss, but he simply continued to run his finger over the seam of her sex, before dipping in a little farther and sliding through the slick wetness there. Her breath hissed out of her lungs, and when, again and again, he’d raise that skimming finger up to her clit, her hips would lift in need. He didn’t give her what she wanted, though—he’d flick over her skin and then sweep down to the warmth of her core, brushing his fingertip there as well.

She moaned. Her fingers twisted in his, clenching hard. “Please,” she breathed.

He slid a finger closer, rubbing in the slick wetness of the hood of her sex, circling close to her clit—close enough to torment but too far for her to get satisfaction from it. “Please what, Miranda?”

“Please touch me,” she breathed. “There.”

“Where?” he teased, his voice husky. “Tell me where you want me to put my fingers.”

Miranda arched, her mouth working silently. He watched her, his cock jumping in response every time she gasped. He continued to run his finger along the wetness, teasing and coaxing the words out of her. “On my clit, please.”

He slid a wet fingertip around her clit, circling it once, enjoying the gasping cry that it wrung out of Miranda. “Like that?”

“Oh God,” she moaned, her fingers clutching his hard. “Again.”

He decided to do one better. Taking one of her legs, he let go of her hand and pulled her leg over his shoulder. Then he did the same for the other leg, until he knelt with his face inches from that hot, wet pussy, and her legs were over his shoulders. “Want me to touch you again?” he murmured against that hot, damp flesh. His mouth watered, waiting to taste her.

She moaned a response, her fingers digging into the thin plastic blanket.

He’d take that as a yes. Leaning down, he nuzzled against her sex and then swept his tongue over her clit.

Her entire body tensed and she shuddered hard, her thighs clenching against his face. He could hear the blanket crinkling madly from her hands fisting in it.

He lifted his head to watch her. “Did you like that, Miranda?”

She gave a jerky nod, her hips quivering so close to his mouth.

“Tell me if you want more.”

Again, a jerky nod.

“Well?”

“Just fucking lick me, Dane,” she snarled at him.

“Absolutely,” he said in a low, pleased voice, and gave her another slow, sensual taste from the heated well of her sex all the way back up to her clit. Her legs trembled again, and her breath was coming in short, sharp pants. Excellent. His own cock was rock hard, his shorts painful against the hard length of him. Soon, he told himself. She was close. Not there yet, but closer. It was time to think about hockey again. He started to mentally run down penalties in his head. Icing. Boarding. High sticking.

She flexed underneath him, impatient.

He gave her another sweeping lick and then settled against her clit, slowly circling it with the tip of his tongue, coaxing it with teasing flicks before circling it again. Miranda’s entire body was tense with desire, and every time he licked, her entire body shivered and a small, breathy little cry erupted from her throat that drove him wild. He wanted to stop and ask her if she was enjoying herself, but making her think was off-limits. Dane swirled his tongue around her clit and sucked lightly, and he was rewarded with her sharp inhale. He increased his efforts, swirling his tongue around her clit faster and faster, brushing against the small button repeatedly as her cries increased.

Her hands fisted against his short hair and her hips bucked against his tongue. “Oh…like that,” she cried.

Hell yeah. He increased the attention, licking and sucking at her clit rapidly. She continued to whimper, her fingers desperately digging against his hair, scratching at his scalp as she tried to find purchase. After a few minutes, she began to push his head down and raise her hips against his tongue, her cries turning into short, sexy little pants that had no words, just whimpers. He increased the pressure, his next lick stroking hard against her clit, and then sucked hard, and then sucked again.

A startled cry erupted from her throat and she came, wetness on his lips and tongue as her entire body trembled and undulated underneath him, her legs clamped tightly around his shoulders, her breath whistling out of her lungs in a low, slow, deep cry that seemed to go on forever.

Holy fuck, that was sexy. She’d come so hard. How had she ever thought herself unable to come with a man? He gave her clit
one last slow lick, and was rewarded with a long, shivering aftershock that quivered through her body. She was still up the mountaintop, still lost in pleasure. God. He started to think about penalties again. High sticking. Slashing. Spearing. Fuck, no, spearing made him think of how badly he needed his cock deep inside her—

“I…” She panted, her hands falling back to her breasts and she struggled to think of something to say. Her eyes were wide. “I…oh wow.”

He kissed the inside of her thigh, his own body tense with need. “Like that, did you?”

“That was incredible.” She stared up at him in surprise. “I mean, last night was really good but that one…wow.”

Her knee was close to his mouth and so pretty he reached out and kissed it, too. “That,” he told her, “was one. I promised you three.”

She licked her lips, the glazed expression returning to her face. “I…but…”

Dane slid a finger through her drenched sex again, enjoying her latest shudder of response. He slid the digit into the hot well of her pussy, noticing how she spasmed against his finger when he thrust. The low moan began to build back up in her throat again, a moan that he felt all the way down to his cock. Damn. He was so close to coming in his pants. He pressed his forehead against her belly, trying hard to get his body back under control again.

High sticking, he reminded himself. Icing. Hooking. Holding. Hand pass. Fuck it, why did all the penalties sound totally fucking dirty when he needed them to keep his mind off of sex?
He forced himself to concentrate on teams, instead. Montreal Habs. Los Angeles Kings. Vancouver Canucks…

When he was safe from going over the edge again, he grasped her breast and teased the nipple, thrusting his other finger deeper into her wet pussy. She was hot and slick with need, and her moans turned quickly to gasps. He moved his mouth back down to her pussy, flicking his tongue against her clit in time with the thrust of his finger, and when she began to quiver hard, he added a second finger, twisting them and repeatedly thrusting them into her wet sex, mimicking the fucking he was dying to give her.

It didn’t take long for her to go over again. She started to tense under him, her muscles clenching as if she were preparing for the next orgasm, when suddenly her entire body stiffened and she sucked in a long, deep breath. Her pussy contracted—hard—against his fingers, and he smiled against her clit. He gave it one last, long lick.