Yours for the Night (37 page)

Fear was part of the high.

She didn’t have time to think. Grabbing her at the waist, he forced a squeak out of her. Then he dumped her on her butt on the table. In the only empty place setting. The one he’d been meaning just for her.

“Wha-at?” She stuttered, caught herself. “What are you doing?” Il He closed in on her, his mouth almost taking hers, his gaze a blur. “I want to watch.”

“Watch what?” Her lungs felt light and fluttery, unable to process a full breath.

He spread the lapels of the coat and cupped her breasts. His cold hands chilled her, thrilled her, like ice straight on her clit. “I want to watch them make you come.”

He pinched her nipple. She moaned, little stars floating before her eyes.

“Spread your legs,” he demanded. Then he touched her between the thighs.

“Look how wet you are, naughty girl.” He glanced left, then right. “Which one do you want first?”

Staring into his sky blue eyes, she wanted both. She wanted him, them, everything.

He read her need. “You have to choose.”

It was like selecting from a smorgasbord of expensive caviar, crab, and lobster. Snared by Dax’s gaze, she pointed. “Him.” Skinner. Dax stepped back, and Skinner pulled his chair between her legs. He nipped her thigh lightly. Heat rushed to her clitoris. 234

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“Look at me,” Dax ordered. “Keep looking at me.”

Falling back on her elbows, she couldn’t have torn her gaze from Dax even as Skinner’s mouth descended in her peripheral vision. Burt pushed glassware out of her way. Skinner’s tongue, Burt holding her thighs apart, Dax’s too-hot stare—

she was suddenly there, right there, so close she could cry out. When Skinner licked her clit, she bit her lip until she tasted blood. His mouth devoured her while Burt played, stroking close to her pussy, easing away, then coming down beneath Skinner’s jaw to test her wetness. Her juice dripped onto his fingers. Oh God, oh God. La sered by Dax’s gaze, her skin flushed rosy, heat rising to her cheeks, as if he took her, fucked her, owned her with nothing more than a look. Her pussy simply imploded, sensation rocketing through each individual nerve, sparking in her clit, her womb, the tips of her fingers, dragging her under, then shooting her into the glittering teardrops of the chandelier. Noelle screamed, and Dax covered her mouth with his, tasting her orgasm, riding the crest with her, sharing her breath as he drank in every ounce of pleasure she felt.

When it was over, he pulled back, held her chin between his fingers. “You didn’t keep looking at me. We’ll have to try that again.” Consumed by her pleasure, he’d taken her lips and missed the orgasm play across her features. He wanted that, needed it. Damn, he wouldn’t miss it again by indulging in her taste.

“Switch places,” he whispered, his gaze holding hers as he snapped his fingers at his cohorts. Then he whisked the fox coat from her arms, leaving her completely naked. She was too far gone to care. He kissed her, held her, and didn’t let her go until the musical chairs between her thighs ended. The blond put his mouth to her, and she arched off the table, moaning, a tear of pleasure slipping down her temple as she thrashed on the fine linen tablecloth. Her brow furrowed, she squeezed her eyes shut, pushed her fingers through the man’s short hair, and held him tight to her pussy. Her hips rolled, and she curled one leg around his shoulder.

“Dax, oh God, Dax.”

He loved that in the midst of another man eating her pussy, his name was on her lips.

“Fuck her with your fingers,” he ordered the bald guy. And the man got right in there along with Blondie, spreading her legs, 235

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stroking her thigh, and slipping beneath the tongue lapping at her to push two blunt fingers inside her. He glanced at Dax, a devilish smile creasing his lips.

“She’s so damn wet. And she tastes so good.” He pulled out, licked his fingers, then slid back in.

Dax leaned close to her ear. “How does it feel, baby?”

She groaned, opened her eyes, met his. “It’s too much.”

“It’s never too much.”

She jerked as one of them hit a sensitive spot. “Dax.” It seemed to be all she could manage, then she slid her arm around his neck. “Kiss me.”

“I can’t watch you if I kiss you.”

And Christ, he had to watch.

Her gaze grew unfocused. She groaned, bit her lip, closed her eyes again, tossed her head. Another teardrop trickled down her temple and into her hair. Dax slid his hand over her soft skin, flicked the tip of one breast. She was so damn sensitized, she arched and cried out. He gazed down the length of her, a blond head bobbing between her legs and the top of a bald pate visible as they concentrated on her pleasure.

He pinched her nipple. She arched her neck and moaned, panted. Then she rolled up, hunching, her eyes tightly closed as she chanted his name, a guttural, damn near unintelligible sound. But it was his name, and when she came the second time, harder than the first, he savored every tear, every cry, every quake of her body. There had never been a more beautiful sight. During the aftershocks, he gathered her in his arms, and when she quieted, he whispered in her ear, “We’re not done yet, baby.”

NOELLE COULD BARELY MOVE HER LIMBS. BURT AND SKINNER HAD licked and sucked her until one orgasm melted into the next. One of them held her head—or maybe that was Dax—and fed his cock to her mouth. She couldn’t be sure in the end who did what. It was all a blur of mindless pleasure punctuated by Dax, stroking, talking, touching, kissing, loving her as she orgasmed. She’d never been closer to another human being. How that was possible, she didn’t know, didn’t care. It just was.

Dax now cradled her in the backseat of the car he’d ordered to take them across town, his fingers toying with her hair. God, she was tired. And so utterly satisfied.

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Except for one thing. “You didn’t come,” she murmured into his tux jacket, not sure he’d even make out her words.

“I enjoyed watching you too much to interrupt.”

“It turned you on?” Wrapped in his arms, she felt the evidence against her belly, yet she needed him to tell her.

“It was the most perfectly decadent scene of debauchery I’ve ever witnessed.” His laugh rumbled against her ear.

“Really?

“Truly. It was too fucking fantastic for words.” He tucked a lock of hair away from her face. “I’ll never forget how beautiful you were with a cock in your mouth and a bald head between your legs.”

God. He knew exactly what to say. But she needed more. Pushing upright, she let her gaze travel over his handsome features. He had the ability to steal the very breath from her lips, just as he had the first time she saw him. She rubbed noses with him. “I could lick and suck you now.”

Manuel was driving again. She was sure he wouldn’t mind.

“You’re exhausted.”

Her jaw ached, her body throbbed, and if she closed her eyes for too long, she’d be asleep. But she needed this. She needed him to want it. Batting her eyelashes, she said, “I don’t mind at all.”

He stroked her hair. She must look an absolute fright, yet he touched her with such tenderness. “The anticipation will be so much greater for the next time if I hold off.” He smiled for her. “I’ll be half-mad with lust by then.”

She didn’t want half later. She needed him completely insane now. “You might get a case of blue balls,” she quipped.

Something didn’t feel right. Didn’t he want her? After the things she’d done and had done to her, how could a man wait? She knew the guilty signs, the debilitating symptoms when a person needed more than what he or she was getting. She’d hated feeling that way, hated the things she’d resorted to in her quest for what she needed, hated the person she became. Was Dax already feeling that need for more, different, new?

He cupped her face in his hand without laughing at her silly joke. With the streetlights flashing over his face, she couldn’t read his expression. Yet he must have read something in hers. Taking her hand, he caressed his cock with her palm. “Then you better suck me, baby,” he whispered. 237

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She fumbled getting his zipper down. He helped her. In her hand, his cock was huge, pulsing, a tiny drop of pre-come beading on the tip. She swiped it clean with her tongue.

“Yum,” she murmured. “This is so much better than waiting.”

He moaned the affirmation she needed.

Then she took him deep. His groan rumbled in his chest. With a hand to the back of her head, he urged her to devour every inch. Then she tucked her hand beneath his thigh, and licked and sucked, fast and hard. She forgot about Manuel, the twinge in her jaw, and the tenderness between her thighs. There was only this, the silk of his cock, the sweetness of his pre-come, the throb as she brought him close, closer, closest. Until he spurted in her mouth. She swallowed it all, every drop of his essence, and needed more. So much more. When it was done, he zipped up and snuggled her deeper into his embrace.

“Thanks, baby, that was great.”

Just “great”?

She didn’t want to think. He hadn’t asked her to suck him. She’d offered. He’d refused because she was so exhausted. Sweet. But he hadn’t taken her in the ballroom either. Beyond kissing her and pinching her nipples, Dax hadn’t touched her since that first night. Now her blow job was only “great.”

Maybe he didn’t want her anymore.

AS THE CAR WENDED THE LAST FEW BLOCKS TO HER FLAT, NOELLE slept peacefully in his lap while Dax stroked her hair as if she were a child. The woman was insatiable. After the workout in the ballroom, he hadn’t expected her to do him, too, despite the ache in his balls. Yet she couldn’t get enough. He wondered if in the end he could actually keep up with her or if she’d tire of him long before he had his fill.

That was the thing. He was starting to believe he’d never get his fill. She was his teenage fantasy come true, with so much more added on top. He’d have said he had a limitless imagination, but Noelle was like no other woman he’d ever known. Her need for fantasy and kinkiness surpassed even his. He knew what he was. His desires were enough to freak out most ordinary women. So he’d never allowed himself much emotion in his relationships. With this one, since he was paying, he’d thought to invest even less emotion. Yet he was in danger of giving her far more than any price they’d bargained for. 238

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When she left, she’d take a piece of him with her. Manuel took a corner, and Noelle stirred against Dax. A soft purr in her throat, she nuzzled his cock, then settled as the car hit a steady rhythm once again. Her sensual woman scent drifted up to him, the scent he’d become addicted to at the tender age of fourteen.

Goddammit, what the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t one of her pathetic, cuckolded husbands. He knew what he wanted. He knew what she wanted. Fantasy, excitement, naughty, dirty things in secret, hot places. He was a man, a CEO. When things took a wrong turn, he righted them, steered the ship onto a true course.

He would give her the excitement she craved, always upping the stakes, always surprising her, never the same thing twice. And she would never want to leave him.

NOELLE SAT IN HER FLAT’S BAY WINDOW OVERLOOKING THE MARINA. It was a sunny, windy day and sailboats dotted the harbor and bay. On the marina lawn, a dog walker struggled with six leashes, finally getting her charges untangled.