Wicked Lovers 01 Wicked Ties (27 page)

“Very pretty,” he complimented, voice raspy and midnight raw. “And so sweet.”

His tongue invaded her channel as his thumb pressed down on her clit. The pleasure converged so hard and fast between her legs, it was almost painful. She felt her own folds swelling with need, making her flesh sensitive to each dip and swirl of his tongue. The February breeze whipping over her diamond-hard nipples did nothing to cool her.

Jack continued his feast, his moans of appreciation ringing in her ears. The more he ate at her, the wetter she got.

Then he stopped.

“If you want me to go on, invite me to taste more.” He nibbled at her thigh. “Tell me you want to come on my tongue.”

Morgan pressed her lips together to hold the words in. But everything between her legs ached, throbbed in time with her runaway heartbeat. Every molecule in her body strained toward what Jack wanted to give her. Why the hell was she resisting such amazing pleasure? A little tainted modesty and the risk of a bit of humiliation seemed like a small price to pay for such stunning sensations.

Even more, the hot, eager expression on his face slammed her with the need to give in. It wasn’t tender. He wasn’t interested in hearts and flowers. The wild intensity of his dark eyes in the morning’s golden light told her he wanted more. Wanted to possess her. On his face was his fierce desire to introduce her to every wanton sensation she’d ever pondered and force her to reserve her reactions exclusively for him.

The outrageous notion of belonging to him, of putting her body solely in his care and allowing him anything he wanted— they wanted—drove her past her limits.

As badly as a part of her mind pushed her to say no, everything else inside her yearned with exquisite pain to say yes.

“Taste me.” Every whispered syllable trembled. “Sir.”

Morgan knew she was taking a giant step that she couldn’t take back. She was agreeing to commit sins that would haunt her. Jack was replacing her scruples with pure, white-hot need she could no longer deny. Tantalizing her with the idea of being his to command.

A violent whip of blistering victory stormed across his face. “And?”

“I…I want to…” She swallowed, panted, trying to find the courage and the air necessary to go on.

Jack circled a finger around the small opening of her sex, scooped up drops of her cream, and massaged it over her clit. Fire shot straight inside her and burst in her belly.

God, she couldn’t take more stimulation. Already on the razor’s edge of sanity, of losing control of her body, Morgan gasped. Need tightened in her core. Blood raced. Thoughts vanished.

Jack reduced her down to her primal animal element. She’d always fantasized about such a state but believed it to be impossible. Not so. Before her knelt a sexy man who should have been a stranger. But he saw every hidden, sinful wish inside her. He not only understood them, but he could grant them—and make her feel perfectly wonderful both inside and out while doing it.

“I want to come on your tongue,” she blurted.

“Perfect, cher.” He rewarded her by lapping off the drops of fresh cream from her clit. “Such a good girl, with such a sweet pussy. I’m going to give you what you want.”

Morgan looked nothing short of magnificent. The emerging morning sun splashed golden light across the pale purity of her skin, illuminating every one of her sexy cinnamon freckles. Intriguing shadows danced in the dips and swells of her luscious body, tantalizing him to lean in for an up-close look. For a personal taste.

Jack was all too happy to heed the call. Her trembling admission echoed in his head, spurring him to clutch her thighs, spread them even wider and lick the glossy pink flesh in front of him.

God, she was like a drug. Every part of her had some new exotic scent or flavor. The crook of her neck smelled like ripe woman with a hint of raspberries. Her mouth soaked him with an addicting cinnamon sugar taste. But her pussy… Delicate, sweet, clean musk. Ah, she tasted like the want coursing inside her. Unique, enthralling. He could spend the morning here, lapping at her, and still be compelled to taste her again in an effort to figure out just what it was about her that so tempted his tongue.

Her ragged inhalation caught his attention. Morgan’s thighs tensed in his grasp. He smiled against her sex, then worked his tongue about her vulva, laving her clit every now and then. No steady pressure…just enough to take her higher and higher. Then, as he worked in one finger and teased her inner walls, she trembled.

Fresh cream poured from her. A flush rose on her skin as she threw her head back, legs trembling. Her sex swelled even more. Morgan dug her short nails into the aging wood of the railing and moaned.

Idly, Jack wondered how long he could keep her here, right on the edge, feeling the sharp, sweet ache of impending climax…without letting her fall over. The idea of reducing her to incoherent begging held appeal. Not because he’d never heard a woman beg. He had—frequently. But Morgan and her inbred good-girl modesty lit him up like a match to kerosene. And when he drove her past her inhibitions, she took both of them up in the flames. Even now, the thick erection pressed uncomfortably against his jeans, growling for the attention of the syrupy, sugary flesh under his tongue.

“Jack,” she panted. “Sir…”

Even her voice trembled, signaling that her orgasm was rising up hot and fast inside her. He smiled, easing back from the hard knot of her clit to focus on the swollen lips cupping his finger.

“Cher?” he returned lazily, swallowing against a lump of lust threatening to unravel him.

Before she could answer, he thrust a second digit inside her. Her open-mouthed gasp tore across the porch, across the open swamp.

Eyes squeezed tightly shut, Morgan said nothing. She focused on pleasure—exactly like he wanted her to.

Jack began easing his fingers from her tight channel. She murmured a protest, but he knew she really meant it when her body did its best to clamp down on the digits, cling, and suck him back in. God, no wonder she shredded his control so fast when he had his cock inside her.

Shoving the observation aside, he withdrew his hand from the damp humidity of her sex. His fingers all but dripped with her cream. The sight and scent went straight to his head, like pure grain alcohol, kicking his libido into full gear. He tamped down the urge to shove his pants to his knees and thrust deep inside her.

Instead, he lifted his fingers over the rosy beads of her nipples and coated them with her own juice. The wind whipped across her body, tightening the tips of her breasts even more, until they stood long and thick and so damn tempting, he couldn’t resist for another second tasting them.

Seizing her hips, Jack fit her against the ridge of his cock. Frothing with greed and glee, he loved that for now, in this moment, she and every little gasp, blush, and moan were all his.

Slowly, he closed his mouth over one of those nipples that had him salivating with anticipation. Hmm. Raspberries and musk together. Velvet-soft skin over deliciously hard nubs begging to be sucked, nibbled, clamped.

He lapped at her, laving and biting, lavishing attention on her nipples until they swelled in his mouth. If her hitching breath hadn’t indicated the truth, a quick caress from his free hand told Jack she was as wet as ever. The knowledge—the woman herself—called him like a siren. There was no resisting.

He forced a pair of fingers inside her sultry depths again, then swiped a thumb over her clit. Amazingly, she tightened on his fingers immediately, clamping down, beginning to ripple with the coming explosion.

Satisfaction swelled in Jack as he shifted his attention to her other nipple and enveloped it in the hot cavern of his mouth. He couldn’t wait to feel the magnitude of this climax. And even better, he’d bet she was nearly willing to beg for it.

Taking one last sharp nip at her rock-hard nipple, Jack kissed his way up her chest to nuzzle her neck. His fingers played with that sensitive spot in her channel, just behind her clit, while his thumb strummed the hard little button in an unhurried rhythm. Though he wondered if he’d ever feel the blood in his fingers again, satisfaction poured through him when she tightened on his fingers once more.

“Cher,” he whispered in her ear. “What do you want?”

“Now,” she panted as he rubbed the pads of his fingers right across that sweet spot inside her. “God, please. I need…”

“Me to stop?”

“No. No, sir!” Her voice came fast, hard, in between breathless sighs.

Color bloomed in her cheeks, and the sunshine rained down on her fair skin until she looked like she was glowing.

God help her, because Jack had every intention of taking her, not just to his bed, but to his playroom and driving her up and over so sweetly and so often that she would have no more qualms about pleading for what she wanted and turning to him when she needed it.

A savage bolt of lust lurched through his cock at the thought he could succeed, that she would surrender her body, her mind, and her will exclusively to him. The thought aroused him like nothing ever had.

“Tell me what you need,” he murmured into her ear. “You remember what to say.”

“I want to come on your tongue. Please, sir.” She grasped his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh with the urgency of her need. “Please.”

“You beg sweetly, cher. How can I resist?”

Her frantic fingers filtered into his hair and she gripped, little darts of pain exploding across his scalp. God help her when he finally got her under him. He was going to pound into her with the ferocity of a jackhammer, mercilessly plying that sweet pussy with his cock until she came over and over—and took him with her.

“Now!”

Her voice took on a panicked note. Her sex gripped his fingers so tightly he could hardly move them. She dangled at the edge of the cliff. And she’d been there a while, long enough for her body to push past her mind.

“Demanding minx,” he teased as he nipped at her earlobe and scratched at the sensitive point inside her clasping pussy. “I promised I’d give you what you want. Once I have, you’re going to follow me into the playroom so I can bind, clamp, and fuck you any way I please, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes, sir!”

“Good girl. I’m going to bend you over my table and take your hot little pussy over and over. You’ll learn to beg readily and come on command, cher. Then,” he breathed against her skin as he began traveling down the body in a series of caresses and biting kisses, “I’m going to open that pretty ass of yours to my cock and settle in for a nice, long ride.”

He whispered the words right against her clit. A strangled moan escaped her. The muscles of her thighs clenched, trembled. The slick heaven of her sex strangled his fingers. Her hands, still in his hair, tightened into desperate fists.

Perfect. Like a fantasy. Morgan responded to his touch, to his wicked, whispered suggestions exactly as he dreamed. Once he pushed her past her inhibitions, delving beyond her conscious mind into her untapped sexuality, a wealth of sweet, mind-blowing submission belonged to the man who could master her.

It was as if she’d been waiting just for him.

The thought charged through his cock like a livewire.

“Come for me,” he demanded against her cream-drenched pussy.

Quickly, he extracted his fingers from her and raked them over her clit. In the next heartbeat, he shoved his tongue inside her rippling channel, reaching with the tip to manipulate the sensitive spot inside.

She exploded with a scream that echoed across the swamp. With the tight grip of her fists in his hair, she pushed his face against her, into her. Fresh cream gushed into his mouth, and he lapped at her greedily, triumph and a desperate urge to get inside her, command her, clawed at him. Need clamored.

Take her. Claim her. She’s yours.

Yeah, and what would Brandon say about that? What would Morgan herself say? He hoped she would say yes, because for once in his life, he didn’t want to just be someone’s good fuck. He wanted every touch to mean something.

Why her? Why now? What had happened to the drive for revenge that once glowed red hot, like fired metal, down in my gut?

Jack frowned against the thought.

Long moments later, the clasping of her sex eased around his tongue. Her fists slowly uncurled. Jack took a last, longing lick of her, promising himself more later and rose to his feet. She looked dazed and flushed and shocked by her own response.

There was untouched sensuality inside her, ripe for a man strong enough to push past her barriers, caring enough to see to her safety and peace of mind. Morgan didn’t know there was much more inside her.

Yet.

And damn, he wanted to be the man to show her.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

He pressed a soft kiss to her trembling mouth, nudging her lips apart and sliding his tongue inside in a slow, coaxing glide. For a moment, she recoiled against the taste of herself on his lips. Jack grabbed her, cradling her head in his palms and forced her to taste the sweet perfection of herself all while deepening the swirl and dance of the kiss. Finally, she relaxed against him, opened her mouth to him, and drew his tongue and the taste of herself deep inside.

Respect of her quick acceptance surged inside him. No, it was flat-out pride—and that was both a joy and a warning. Morgan was sweet, and he could bend her, mold her into a submissive who could tempt him beyond his wildest fantasies. In time, he could help her accept that part of herself that she struggled so hard to deny. She would never be truly happy until she did.

But that feeling of pride…it was a step away from ownership. No dominant had pride in a sub he wasn’t attached to, determined to make his. For years, he’d felt a distant respect for women he’d mastered who pushed past their boundaries to submit. Like a teacher to a pupil, he’d praised their progress, punished their setbacks, all while assuring them of their abilities.

With Morgan…it felt deeper, more personal. As if he had to help her. As if he had some personal stake in her blooming sexuality.

As if she’s mine. The feeling confirmed everything inside him. This wasn’t a phase, or the heat of the moment. He wanted her. Period.