Wicked Burn (9 page)

Why, exactly, had he always preferred ample, voluptuous women when he might have been enjoying such a taut, fluid ride? He’d always assumed that they’d be able to weather his rough manner in bed, and for the most part he’d been right. But Niall stood as solid proof that a woman didn’t have to be nice and fleshy to like it good and hard.

When he felt himself cresting, he lifted her high off his penis and rocketed into her in four long, furious hammer strikes.

Niall’s surprised scream of renewed orgasm ignited him.

He wanted to pump her tight, spasming channel as he came, but he found that he couldn’t move as orgasm crashed though him. It was like his brain short-circuited from the immensity of the pleasure, temporarily paralyzing him.

He held on to Niall desperately, his face pressed to her soft breast. He shook as he poured himself deep inside of her.

They remained clasped like that for minutes, their breathing at first harsh and ragged, segueing to an agitated pant, and finally smoothing to a shared rhythmic, waving motion.

Vic nuzzled her breast, inhaling her singular scent. It felt so good to hold her like this, his sharp lust dulled for the moment to the soft ache of desire. He absorbed her fluttering heartbeat into his lips and cheeks until it slowed to a strong, steady beat. Tenderness welled up in him. The tension of reawakened arousal mixed with it, causing his cock to stir inside of her.

It dumbfounded him.

He was going to have to have her yet again. The realization made his satiated muscles stiffen slightly.

Just what the hell did he think he was doing with Niall Chandler, anyway
?

FIVE

Niall felt exhausted and extremely well-satisfied, but she’d still noticed the tension that leapt suddenly into Vic’s body.

“What’s wrong?” she mumbled into the crevice between his shoulder and neck.

“Nothing,” he grunted. He lifted her and set her down carefully on the bed next to him.

Niall sat up and shook her hair out of her sweat-dampened face. “Yes, there is,” she stated after inspecting his stony expression. “What is it?”

He made that characteristic subtle rolling motion with his jaw as he studied her.

“I guess you must think I’m a grade-A asshole for not asking you this until now, but can you get pregnant?”

Niall blanched. Her gaze flew down to his cock. “Yes. Oh, my God . . . Was there something wrong with the condom?”

He winced slightly. “No, I didn’t mean that. I just should be more careful about withdrawing from you afterward if you can get pregnant, that’s all,” he mumbled. Niall watched him, feeling perplexed. He got up and sauntered to the bathroom, reminding Niall of a wild animal, supremely confident and graceful in his natural state of nudity. When he returned a few moments later, he kissed her lightly as he came down next to her on the bed.

“Aren’t you worried about catching something from me?” he asked bluntly.

Niall’s cheeks burned. The answer was “no,” but she felt like too much of a fool for saying it. She was like a teenage boy in the first hormonal throes of lust, wild to have sex with Vic for the lame, downright pitiful reason that if
felt so damned good
. . . and she was so hungry, so desperate to feel alive.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Vic said in his slow, soothing drawl when he saw how her face collapsed with emotion. His hands came up to cradle her head, his fingers furrowing into the waves of her hair. “I’m as healthy as one of my horses, I swear. Granted, that doesn’t mean much to you, but if you knew me, it would. I just had a checkup two weeks ago and I got a clean bill of health. I always wear protection, Niall—without fail.”

His face stiffened in concern when she just shook her head, made speechless by emotion.

“Course, I should turn you over my knee if you actually believe a line like that from a guy who screwed his neighbor the second after he knew her name.”

That pierced Niall’s temporary mortification. She blinked rapidly, bringing him into focus. His handsome mouth quirked ever so slightly into a grin.

“I’m kidding, Niall. I might be a moody son of a bitch when I’m writing, and my sister and a hundred or so other people have told me that I’ve got a foul temper, but I don’t lie. That’s not one of my vices. I hate lies.”

Niall burst abruptly into laughter. It felt bittersweet to have Vic encircle her in his arms and tighten his hold while emotion washed over her. Laughter continued to burble out of her throat uncontrollably. She carefully hid the tears that scattered down her cheeks.

What could she tell him? Nothing about the intense passion she had for him made any sense. She felt too embarrassed . . . too vulnerable to say out loud that she couldn’t picture herself in a million years behaving in this wild, uninhibited, impulsive fashion with another man.

She had some kind of intense crush on Vic Savian.

And he would undoubtedly be the one who was mortified if she ever went into the ugly details of her life, poured out her heart, told him how it felt so heavenly to feel life coursing vibrantly in her veins again. This was supposed to be a mutually satisfying sexual relationship, not an opportunity for Niall to cry all over Vic while he played psychotherapist for her.

How desperate could she get? Niall stared sightlessly at Vic’s iron bedstead, and muffled laughter came in semi-hysterical bursts past her lips. She’d been so frozen, so numb for the past few years.

Why couldn’t she have been like most people and awakened from her trauma gradually instead of in the fierce, volatile explosion of desire and passion that Vic had ignited in her?

 

 

Vic stiffened when he felt a splash of wetness fall on his shoulder. For some reason he couldn’t bear the sadness that he saw in Niall’s eyes at times. He gently scooted her down on the pillows. He refused to look at her face as he came down over her, not wanting to acknowledge her sadness.

There was only one way that he knew of to get rid of it, temporary though it was.

Maybe it was selfish. Who knew? Vic was the first to admit he was a savage when it came to dealing with a woman’s tears. If he couldn’t beat the hell out of whatever was making Niall miserable, than he’d fuck her until he saw the look of glazed ecstasy in her beautiful eyes that he much preferred.

Yeah, they were caveman tactics, but
shit
. . . he barely knew her, right? He wasn’t certain that he
wanted
to know more about her. As drawn as he was to Niall, he was skittish about jumping into the dangerous, shark-infested waters of a woman’s emotions.

He noticed how she furtively wiped at the tears on her cheeks but forced himself to focus on the sight of her naked body. It easily distracted him. He reached up and fondled her breasts. He lifted both and removed his hands quickly, enjoying the sight of them popping pertly back into their original position.

Enjoying it a lot.

He popped the pert little beauties several times, scraping his palms across her stiffened nipples as he released her, and growling in aroused satisfaction like a big cat playing with its prey.

“You’re so firm,” he muttered. He plucked and pinched her nipples. The red tips made his mouth water. Her breasts were perfectly shaped, but the unusually large, succulent nipples drove him wild.

“You liked it when I spanked you earlier, didn’t you?”

Niall’s lips fell open in surprise at his abrupt question. His light eyes flickered to her face and held her gaze.

“I . . . I’m not sure . . . I . . .” Niall stammered.

His stared down at her, unrelenting.

“Yes,” she whispered after a few seconds.

He leaned down without any further comment and slipped a tasty, fat nipple between his lips and teeth, drawing on her. He consumed her greedily, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh. Niall beaded tight at his harsh treatment, which was creating an unbearable ache in her sex. He continued to play with her other breast with his hand, fondling and squeezing and pinching.

Niall moaned. Her hips lifted off the bed in an instinctive motion. His hard suction on her nipple pulled at some invisible cord deep in her vagina, making her long to have the hard length of his penis rubbing and agitating it like he did when he fucked her. He made her forget her self-consciousness and anxiety so easily, transformed her into a purely carnal creature.

How did he do it so effortlessly?

She arched her back and purred with desire. When she reached for his head and ran her fingers through his thick hair, however, he sat up slightly and grabbed her wrists. He pinned them over her head with his left hand and returned to feasting on her achy, distended nipple in the matter of a second.

Niall whimpered and cried out in increasing desire as he held her down and took his time with her, teasing, sucking, and biting gently at her breasts until he finally sat up to appreciate the results. Her nipples looked lividly red in comparison to her white breasts, like juicy, sweet strawberries topping the two mounds of creamy flesh. They felt unbearably sensitive. He’d drawn so much blood to the surface with his steady, hot suck, enflaming the nerve endings with his lashing tongue and pinching fingers.

He turned to her sensitive flanks next, biting, scraping, and licking hotly along the tender skin from just a few inches below her armpit to her waist. She gasped in pleasure. Her skin roughened against his tongue. He eventually let go of her wrists so that he could run his lips over her stomach, exploring her slowly, eventually dipping the tip of his tongue into her bellybutton. She inhaled sharply when he traced a warm, damp trail from the indentation to just above her pubic hair.

Niall gasped in the throes of a sharp arousal that quickly accelerated to an agony. She threaded her fingers into his thick hair, then pressed her fingertips to his neck. She couldn’t get enough of his texture or the fierce heat that always seemed to resonate from his body. She spread her thighs wide . . . inviting him . . .
begging
him to put her out of her misery.

But as she was rapidly discovering, Vic went strictly by his timetable when it came to making love.

She made a startled sound of protest when he shifted off her suddenly and she was deprived of his elemental heat. He stood and grabbed his discarded jeans off the floor, roughly whipping the supple leather belt through the loops. Niall’s eyes widened when he came back on the bed with the strap held in his hand.

“Grab one of the posts on the headboard.”

“W . . . Why?” she asked, her eyes wide with anxiety.

“I’m going to tie you up. I want you completely at my mercy.”

 

 

He was curious as to how she would respond. Although he’d just spoken the truth, it wasn’t the only reason he was going to tie Niall up. The fact was that her small hands on his body, her hungry, sensitive touch, drove him nuts. He’d been enjoying himself nibbling and licking and kissing her beautiful body. He couldn’t wait to get on with the feast of the rest of her tasty, silky skin, not to mention his juicy, luscious dessert—Niall’s pussy. But twenty seconds of her fingernails scraping his scalp, of her sensitive fingertips skimming along his neck, and her palms molding the muscles of his shoulders had turned Vic’s cock into a stiff, straining spear, thoroughly eager to be sheathed in her tight pussy all over again.

Vic would be the first to say he liked the idea of tying her up. He liked it a lot. But he demanded it now for his own control as much as for hers.

 

 

Niall wondered in rising anxiety if it really was possible for one’s heart to stop altogether, because that sure was what it seemed like when Vic calmly told her that he wanted to tie her up.

I want you completely at my mercy
.

She’d never done anything like that before in bed, although she had admittedly fantasized about it dozens of times over the past week and a half. Maybe it was because of the way Vic had held her wrists so securely that first time while he’d played her clit expertly, forcing her body to experience shattering pleasure before he fucked her pussy like it was his to do with as he pleased.

Niall had to bite her lip to refrain from moaning out loud at the impact of that forbidden thought.

Her eyes lowered to the brown strap that was bunched in his hand and immediately flickered over to his jutting penis. She longed for the sensation beneath her fingertips of the swollen veins that ran under the taut, smooth skin. She hungered for the feeling of the tapered, thick cap in her throat . . .

Heat flushed her sex and face.

He would give her his touch. He would eventually give her his tasty cock if she agreed to what he wanted. She swallowed convulsively and reached for the bedpost.

She might as well grimace and bear it.

Her eyes stayed fixed on his cock when he lunged forward on the bed. It bobbed less than a foot away from her face, teasing her. When she felt him twist his belt around her wrists several times, however, pulling them comfortably but still tightly to the bed-posts, she pulled her gaze off the arousing sight of his cock.

“Oh!” she murmured in surprise when instead of buckling the supple leather, he tied it into a taut knot with sure hands and bunching biceps that seemed to shout loud and clear that Vic knew
exactly
what he was doing. Was that because of his background with horses or because he was used to tying a woman up in bed? Niall fought rising anxiety. She had vaguely imagined that her restraint would be more for show than anything if she could merely use her fingers to unfasten the buckle in a panic situation.

But as she ran her fingers clumsily over the impossibly tight knot and jerked down with her wrists, Niall was forced to admit that she really
was
at Vic’s mercy.

Her eyes flickered up to his face. He was kneeling over her, six feet and several inches of lean, hard man. Her gaze skimmed across his powerful thighs dusted with black hair and lingered on his penis. Had it grown and stiffened in the last few seconds since he’d tied her up? It looked ruddy, ready . . . and, in truth, downright intimidating from this angle.