Wicked Burn (33 page)

He fumbled a little bit in the short distance to his bedroom—his jeans were slipping down his thighs. He made it, however, gently setting Niall on the edge of his bed. He grimaced at the agony of drawing his still rigid, quivering cock out of her body.

Christ, he thought he’d embellished how good it felt to be inside of her shrink-wrapped, hot little pussy, but his memories fell far short of reality.

He began to undress hastily, but the sight of Niall’s enormous hazel eyes looking up at him with a sexy, dazed expression made him pause after he’d lifted his shirt over his head. He swallowed thickly to moisten the sudden dryness in his throat.

“Take off your blouse,” he said in a tone that was harsher than he’d intended.

She blinked twice rapidly, as if she were awakening from a dream. Her gaze lowered to his cock, which was still moist from her abundant juices. She bit her lower lip as she continued to stare at him.

“Vic, what about—”

“Now isn’t the time for talking, baby,” he said quietly. Something in his tone made her eyes flicker up to his face. The anxiety and stark arousal that he saw in their depths turned him on as much as it always had . . . more so.

His penis surged with a sharp twang of reawakened need.

“Take off your blouse,” he instructed again, firmly but gently.

At first he thought she was going to refuse. Her kiss-swollen, luscious lips opened as though she was about to protest. Her eyes met his.

Her hands shook slightly as she unbuttoned her cotton blouse. She drew it off her arms. He stared at the beautiful, sex-flushed woman who sat on his bed wearing nothing but a bra that didn’t begin to hide her large, erect nipples as they pressed against the insubstantial fabric. When she laid the blouse on the bed and met his eyes again, he couldn’t speak.

So he just nodded once as he stared at her silk-encased little breasts.

She reached behind her and unfastened the bra, then peeled the cups of silk from firm, fleshy fruit.

Vic didn’t move for several long, tense seconds. The tiny whimper she made in her throat drew his attention to her face.

“Hold them up for me,” he said.

He waited until she’d slid her hands beneath the plump, curved mounds that rose so starkly from the plane of her ribs. Then he sank to his knees in front of her and fell upon what she offered him so sweetly.

He made a feast of her fat, pink nipples, ravenously suckling first one delectable morsel and teasing it into a tight peak before he transferred to the other, giving it the same treatment, sometimes teasing her with his tongue and teeth, sometimes sucking her deep into his mouth until she cried out in pleasurable agony. He couldn’t get enough of her . . .
never
would get enough of her taste or the feeling of her small body twisting and undulating in his hands as he held her steady for his mouth, or the sexy whimpers she made deep in her throat that erupted into full-throttle cries of ecstasy when he suckled her nipples good and hard.

Or maybe there was a way to immunize himself against Niall’s power over him. If he took her enough times at the furious, maddened pace that his body required when it came to Niall, he’d have no choice but to eventually tire of her. Wasn’t there some sort of cure for addictive behaviors that prescribed the addictive substance be taken repeatedly in large quantities? Vic dazedly lifted his head and stared at one of Niall’s reddened, pointed, wet nipples.

He stood jerkily, unable to unglue his eyes from Niall’s breasts. He eventually had to, however, as he flipped off his boots and shoved his jeans and underwear down his thighs in a flurry of haste.

When he was nude, he nodded toward the middle of the bed.

“On your hands and knees.”

He hoped she wouldn’t mind his blunt direction. His arousal was such that it was all he was capable of. But he was reminded quickly that Niall had never once protested his terse or crude language during sex. In fact, elegant, classy Niall had always become more aroused when he talked dirty to her.

He came up behind her on his knees. His hands on her hips encouraged her nonverbally to move toward the headboard. When she’d moved into the position he wanted, he halted her by holding her hips steady. He reached around her, grabbing several pillows and stacking them beneath her hips.

“Put your shoulders down on the bed and reach up and hold onto one of the posts on the headboard with both hands,” he said. He watched with barely restrained excitement as she presented her sweet fanny in the air for him. His cock leapt up and batted against his lower rib cage when he saw her turn her head and glance back at him, the whites of her eyes showing.

“Don’t let go until I say so,” he told her with a pointed look before he parted her plump cheeks and pushed the tip of his cock into her pussy.

God, this was going to feel good, he thought with a profound feeling of grim satisfaction.

She cried out when he thrust. He held her wiggling hips steady with both hands and pushed until she sheathed the fattest, most dense and swollen portion of the stalk of his cock just past the midsection. She pressed her hips down into the pillows. At that moment, Vic didn’t know if she did it in order to get friction on her clit because she was aroused, or if she tried to escape his penetration of her body.

And he didn’t care.

He spanked her right cheek briskly.

“Hold your ass still,” he rasped.

She whimpered as he worked his cock into her while she remained motionless, drawing out several inches only to claim another half inch with each downstroke. He growled gutturally when he finally pressed his balls to her moist tissues. Her pussy squeezed and flexed around his length, torturing him. Niall cried out in agonized pleasure when his cock jerked inside her tight sheath.

Vic’s hands fell on the top of the headboard, and he began to pump her long and slow. He shut his eyes tightly when he realized that he stared fixedly at where their bodies joined and that the sight, in combination with the sublime sensation of her hot, muscular channel, was about to make him lose all remnants of restraint.

Christ, how could he have forgotten how good she felt? She was so wet from her arousal, so hot it was as if her muscular vagina was lined with heated, slippery oil. The scent of her arousal reached his nostrils, taking away the little control that he’d gained by closing his eyes. The sounds of her sexy little whimpers and cries hardly helped his cause, either.

He was going to have to fuck her morning, noon, night, and then some, to get her out of his system.

He increased his tempo and the strength of his thrusts, smacking their flesh together briskly. His bed banged into the wall with each of his forceful strokes. Niall whined plaintively, the sound driving him sexually berserk. He saw that her knuckles were white as she desperately clung to the bed, as though she were trying to hold on as a storm swirled around her, beating at her ruthlessly. She began to shift her hips in tiny little electrical counterstrokes up and down the length of his cock.

Vic gritted his teeth and swatted her bottom twice. She stilled immediately. He waited until she turned her chin over her shoulder and looked at him with one wide eye.

“I’m
going to set the pace, Niall.”

He knew that she’d understood his double meaning when an indefinable expression settled over her lovely, perspiration-damp features.

Good. It was best that she knew he was determined to be the one who set the parameters of their relationship. As long as it was purely sexual, Vic thought he could handle things just fine.

Just
fucking
fine, he thought wildly a few seconds later as he began to pound into her with a hard, forceful rhythm and the bed began to pitch and squeak in protest at his strenuous movements. Niall screamed at the impact. Her pussy began to convulse around him. Fluid heat gushed over his cock. The sensation was not something that a human male could endure without going temporarily mad.

He roared like a chained animal that had just chewed through its restraints. He dropped his hands next to her head and pressed his face to her neck, flexing his hips hard. Pleasure tore through him as her vagina squeezed every last drop of cum out of him. They weathered the tumult of their orgasms pressed tightly together, skin to skin.

Oh, yeah, Vic thought as he panted desperately for air a moment later. He could survive this just fucking dandy. He’d just have to be careful not to lose any vital organs in the process.

Or anything vital. Period.

 

 

Niall felt like her bones had been removed and warm mush put in their place. She gently thudded onto Vic’s chest, incapable of volitional movement when he came down next to her and curved his arm beneath her, tilting her against him. Seconds passed, then minutes. Their ragged pants eventually smoothed to a matched, even rhythm.

Niall knew that Vic didn’t want to talk. So for several full moments she allowed herself the sublime pleasure of lying in his strong arms, feeling his crisp chest hair on her cheek . . . breathing in his unique scent. There were plenty of times in the past few months that she’d despaired of ever experiencing those things again, after all.

But eventually the need to speak could be ignored no longer.

“Thank you for taking me with you on Traveler,” she whispered into his skin. “He’s a beautiful animal.”

“You weren’t afraid?” Vic asked in a soft rumble. Niall rubbed her cheek against the subtle vibration resounding through his chest.

“A little, at first,” she admitted. She lifted her head and met his gaze. “But once I was up there, all I could think about was you.”

He watched her for a few seconds. His hand rose jerkily, as though it’d been restrained where it lay on the bed and he’d suddenly broken free. Niall purred softly when he plunged his fingers into her hair and lightly massaged her scalp.

“My guess is the next time you get on a horse will be easier for you, and the time after that, easier still. You just had a block you needed to get past.”

She closed her eyes, savoring the pleasure of his touch. She figured she was either a moron or a masochist for ruining such a lovely moment.

“Vic, we need to talk about this.”

His hand stilled in her hair. “There’s nothing to talk about, Niall. We wanted each other and we had sex. It’s simple, really.”

Niall placed her elbows on the bed and looked up at him. He suddenly seemed so distant.

“I want to be able to talk to you about what happened last December . . . what happened before that . . . what happened to me years ago—”

He sat up so quickly that it left Niall a little stunned. One second she’d been staring into his impassive face and narrowed eyes, and the next she was looking at his naked back as he sat at the edge of the bed.

“Why now?” he asked gruffly. He didn’t turn around. “You obviously didn’t think it was worthwhile to tell me anything back then.”

A heaviness pressed down on her chest, constricting her lungs as Vic stood and sauntered over to where his jeans were on the floor.

“I
did
want to tell you, Vic. You have no idea how much.”

He pulled his jeans up over his muscular ass and fastened the bottom buttons. “Well, it’s all water under the bridge now.”

Niall sat up, pulling the comforter around her as she did so. His cold, calm manner caused a tendril of panic to unfurl in her belly.

“How can you say that?”

He glanced at her, his eyes like liquid steel.

“Don’t you think we’d be better off discussing the fact that we just had intercourse twice and that I didn’t wear a condom?”

Niall’s mouth fell open. She hadn’t been expecting him to say that. She fumbled for something to say. And why in God’s name did Vic have to be feet away from her while she sat in bed, naked and alone, when he asked such a distressing question.

“It . . . it should be all right,” she said shakily. “It’s not the right time of month for me to get pregnant. I should have my period in three or four days.” Her mouth went dry with dread when she thought about him kissing that woman in the parking lot last night. Surely Vic would have worn protection with her, wouldn’t he have?

He peered at her from beneath a lowered brow as he pulled his shirt down to his waist. “I’ve never had sex with the woman you saw me with,” he said flatly, making Niall wonder if he’d read her mind. For a few seconds he just stared at her, the struggle on his handsome face obvious. “The only thing we should have to worry about is pregnancy. I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again.”

“I was as much to blame as you,” Niall murmured uncomfortably. “But, Vic, I want to talk to you about what—”

“
No,
” he said abruptly, taking two steps toward the bathroom. “You said that you wanted to tell me back then, but you didn’t, despite the fact that I wanted to be there for you. I wanted it a
hell
of a lot, Niall! Now you want to talk, but I’m no longer ready to listen.”

Tears stung her eyes. He seemed about as accessible as the summit of Mount Everest to a handicapped person as he stood there looking down at her, his light eyes conveying fire and ice fused. Was it really possible that they’d just been pressed skin to skin while their sexes throbbed in tandem and his face pressed so intimately to her neck?

“So that’s it?” she asked throatily. “We’re just going to make love whenever the mood strikes us and ignore the fact that I hurt you last year by not being honest with you?”

“By not being honest about a particularly important fact,” Vic corrected in a hard voice. “By not telling me the entire time we were fucking each other that you just happened to have a husband. Did it ever occur to you that I might have strong feelings about sleeping with a married woman? Did it ever
once
strike your self-centered brain that I might have morals when it came to that?”