All He Needs (All or Nothing) (11 page)

“I can’t.” She ran her fingers down his arm and said in a breathy little hiccup, “I’m truly addicted.”

He grinned. “You just like to fuck.”

“I hope that’s not a problem.” Her voice was teasing again; there were certain rules to this game.

“I hope it’s not a problem when I fuck you twenty-four/seven.” A purposeful statement without a hint of teasing.

A flicker of unease in her eyes. “You’re kidding.”

“Uh-uh.” He reached for the tie on her left wrist, pulled it free, then reached for the second tie.

“You can’t mean it.” Her apprehension was plain.

“I do.” He pulled the second tie loose and shot her a blank look. “You’re my constant wet dream, baby.” Revealing
his emotions was a radical departure best managed in small doses. He’d admitted more of his feelings in the last few minutes than he had in his lifetime. He preferred the familiar world of sex and more sex. That was his comfort zone.

“If you didn’t sound so scary, I’d say, thank you.”

“Believe me, I should be thanking you. I’ve never been so horny. Come on,” he said, picking her up and putting her on his lap. “Let’s see if those ben wa balls turn you on when you walk. And then I’m thinking a couple of orgasms. Yours first, of course, because I’m not stupid.” He slid his index finger inside her for a quick check; nothing distracted her like sex. And he’d had enough talk for one night.

She caught her breath, uttered a small throaty moan on cue. Then another, as he slid off the bed, the pressure of his forearm on her bottom wedging the silver spheres deeper. “You okay?” he said, setting her on her feet.

“Not really.” She drew in a breath; her knees had gone weak and a high-wattage delirium was jolting her senses in a tumultuous frenzy.

He politely held her upright until her agitation diminished. Then he said, “Good now?” as though understanding perfectly the finite pitch and measure of her arousal.

She nodded.

He dropped his hands. “Now don’t move”—he began to say and caught himself. “Just relax for a minute.”

She smiled faintly. “Good save.”

“I’m walking a damned tight rope tonight, baby,” he murmured with a lazy smile. “No question.”

“Consider it a learning experience,” she purred.

His gaze was suddenly blast furnace hot. “Maybe for us
both,” he said with exaggerated courtesy. Then he turned away, walked across the bedroom to a linen-covered sofa set against the wall, and sat, facing her. Stretching out his arms along the sofa back, he slid down on his spine, spread his legs slightly, his perfectly formed erection fucking beautiful, Kate thought like a genuine, grade A addict. “Okay, baby.” He crooked his finger. “See if you can make it this far.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Those ben wa balls are small.” He spoke softly. “You can do it.”

“What do you mean small?” She could feel them with every feverish nerve; she was creamy wet and antsy.

“As in not large,” he said with a flicker of a smile. “You can take more. You know you can. We don’t have to argue about that. Now, come to daddy, baby. Move slowly. One step, then two.” He pointed to the floor before his feet, then looked up. “Got it?”

“I hope that’s not an order.”

“Would that be a problem?” he silkily inquired.

“Maybe. Why don’t you come here and fuck me instead.”

“Because that’s not the way it works.” His voice was patently tolerant, as though explaining particle physics to a novice.

“You said—”

“Trust me, baby. I know what you want. If I keep this up, you’ll come just standing there. You like orders.”

“So do you.”

He smiled. “Then we’re good. I give the orders, you take them, and you’ll climax all night long. Tomorrow too, although—” There was time enough to mention San Francisco
when they were on the way to the airport. Right now, he had more important things on his mind. He was about to explode; self-control had its limits.

“What about tomorrow?”

“I’m going to be fucking you tomorrow. Did I not say that?”

“Finally,” she said. “I won’t have to beg for your dick.”

His gaze was laser sharp. “You still don’t have any goddamn patience,” he said coolly.

“And you still know how to be a prick,” she said in a voice that would have cut glass.

The distance between them was suddenly acrid with spleen.

The silence equally caustic.

Five seconds later, Dominic’s small sigh barely rippled the air. Sliding upright in a silken flow of bronzed muscle, he raked his fingers through his hair, dropped his hands, and flicked a finger in Kate’s direction. “Have it your way then. There’re condoms in the drawer behind you. If you don’t care about your latex allergy, I don’t see why I should.”

When she turned, her gasp brought him to his feet in a flash, and a second later he was holding her upright, two of his fingers deep inside her, pulling out the ben wa balls. Tossing them on the bed, he dipped his head and whispered in her ear, “I warn you, I’m doing this only once with a condom. I have long-range plans and they don’t include you being out of commission with some latex allergy. So no argument. Agreed?” Lifting her, he seated her on the edge of the bed and frowned. “I need an answer.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice,” he said, clipped and curt.

She gave in to his cool stare and nodded.

“Christ, dealing with you is like rewriting the fucking
Art of War
,” he grumbled, leaning over and pulling open the drawer on the bedside table. Grabbing a foil-wrapped condom, he ripped it open.

“Don’t use that. Okay?”

About to toss away the foil, he shot her a startled look.

“I don’t mean to be difficult.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

She was all huge, pleading eyes. “Just don’t. Please?”

He stared at her. “You’re killing me, babe.” His jaw twitched, he swallowed hard—twice—the silence between them suffocating. Then he swore softly and tossed the packet and condom back in the drawer. “I suppose if this is makeup sex, you get to make the rules,” he said gruffly.

“Thank you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Hold the thanks. This might not take more than thirty seconds the way I’m feeling.”

“I hope not. Sorry,” she quickly added.

“You better be. You’re the girl who never even came with Andrew or what’s-his-name. Don’t expect me to be on a time clock.”

“Sorry. Really. You’re always wonderful.”

He finally smiled. “Polite humility? I’m impressed.”

“And I’m grateful.”

“You’re just grateful I’m better than Andrew.”

“In a thousand different ways,” she said sweetly. “Although speaking of Andrew, I have a question.”

“Could it wait?” If he was actually participating in a
game of Russian roulette, he’d prefer a quick orgasm to compensate for the sword of Damocles hanging over his head. Shoving her into the middle of the bed, he pushed her down.

“Andy tells me he’s in Greenland,” Kate said, ignoring Dominic’s question, gazing up at him with a lift of her brows. “Did you do that?”

“Maybe.” Placing his hands, palms down, on either side of her arms, Dominic leaned over, swung his legs up, and settled between her thighs in a smooth reverse push-up that showcased his swelling biceps. He nudged her legs wider.

“He has a girlfriend there. Did you do that too?”

Guiding his erection to her slick, glossy sex, he stopped and looked up. “Shit. I wish I’d thought of that.”

“So you really are managing my life?”

Intent on getting off, he eased the head of his dick forward just far enough to make his point. “What happens if I say yes?” His deep voice was silken, assured. “Are you going to cut me off?”

“Damn you,” she whispered, stirring her hips faintly, so he slipped in deeper, so the delicious flesh-to-flesh friction burned away minor resentments. “As if I could.”

“Okay then, yes.” After which he effectively ended the conversation by plunging hilt deep into Kate’s ripe, welcoming body with a businesslike combination of finesse, authority, and a seriously spectacular hard-on.

Dominic’s carnal groan was gut-deep and brute; Kate whimpered at the head-banger hysteria electrifying her senses.

A long simmering silence fell.

“You’re sure you don’t mind my insisting… on no condom?” Kate’s voice, softly apologetic, broke the stillness.

Discarding a number of rude replies, Dominic reminded himself that he was currently snugly engulfed in paradise and capable of a few seconds of politeness. “Of course I mind.”
Like he minded this conversation.
“But my dick has trouble saying no to you.”

Kate smiled up at him. “That’s sweet.”

He sighed softly. “Look, babe, fucking you isn’t a real imposition, although we might be paying somewhere down the line for this goddamn gamble.”

“You were willing to gamble last time,” she reminded him. “How about I have a turn?”

“It’s okay to make mistakes so long as they’re new ones. We keep making this same one, baby, we’re going to be in trouble.”

“I
am
an accountant. I can crunch numbers.”

“Could we talk about this later?” he said. “I’m having trouble focusing on more than one thing right now.” Smoothly flexing his legs, he marginally withdrew, then swung his hips forward again and drove into her until he filled her completely and she sighed in bliss. “Later’s good.”

“Jesus Christ.” He laughed. And from that point on, he made sure that she no longer had breath to speak.

But she felt each slow, gliding, perfectly measured invasion and gasped at the plunging depth of each powerful downstroke, the ravishing ripples spreading outward in a sumptuous wave of ecstasy, offering her consecutive glimpses of shining nirvana. She clung to him, his back muscles flexing and moving beneath her wide-spread
fingers, the musky fragrance of his hair teasing her senses, the warmth of his body comforting after weeks of deprivation. Trembling and needy, impatient, she whimpered for release.

Her breath was warm on his shoulder, her impatient moans a potent drug to his senses, stiffening his already rock-hard dick, powering his next plunging thrust, and the next and next as he forced himself deeper, buried himself in her velvety warmth, his sense of pleasure so clean and pure, he could have lasted forever.

But only moments later, quivering, nearly unstrung, flushed with passion, Kate looked up, her gaze half-lidded, and begged, “Please, please…”

His eyes wide and clear, he dipped his head, kissed her rosy cheek, and whispered, “Anytime, baby.” Then he smoothly took her over the edge in a billowing, sweet-scented delirium, following her in his own surging climax, spilling freely into her succulent sex.

Then, while Kate was still floating and aglow, he dipped his head, kissed the hollow behind her ear, and in the grip of some manic lust said in a warm hum against her skin, “I’m going to use your tits. You don’t have to move. This one’s for me.”

In one smooth motion he withdrew, rested his weight on his hands, swung his legs up and knelt, straddling her waist.

Just watching the easy, coordinated power, his muscles tense and flex, his lean athletic body move into position with such single-minded intent, triggered an insurgent fascination deep in some evolutionary female reflex. Not only
was his visual splendor arresting, Kate thought, but his determined willfulness kindled a sharp, primal response that jolted her senses. Her nipples swelled on cue, hot desire blazed through her body, her sex throbbed in wistful longing, and she softly moaned. Shameless in her greed.

Dominic smiled faintly. This
was
going to be short and sweet, no games, a purely selfish climax. Maybe next time. “You want some of this, baby?” He gently stroked her taut nipples. “It looks like it.” Effortlessly balancing a hair’s breadth above her ribs, years of surfing forging enviable leg muscles, Dominic drew his erection away from his belly, forced it down between her breasts, and said, “Hold it there.”

As her fingers closed hard around the swollen crest of his dick, he sucked in a breath. “Easy, easy, or this is going to be over in a hurry.” Capturing the outer flare of her breasts in his palms, he pressed his hands together and her soft, resilient flesh framed his rigid length. “I got it now,” he murmured.

His hair had fallen forward, obscuring most of his face, although with high pressure sensation beginning to surge through his brain, he may not have seen her anyway. As the feel of her hands slipped away, he murmured, “Do you want my cum all over you?” A second later, he added under his breath, “That’s not actually a question.” Then his lashes drifted downward, shutting out the world, and without waiting for an answer, he gently thrust into the cushiony silk of her flamboyant cleavage, eased back as the head of his dick touched her neck, swung forward again, and with a soft sigh settled into a highly gratifying rhythm.

But the sound of Katherine’s frenzied breathing soon registered in the small portion of his brain not completely consumed by feverish sensation and he remembered that he wasn’t alone in his unremitting horniness. He didn’t sigh, although he would have liked to. Instead, he summoned his manners—or perhaps he cared enough about Katherine to summon them. “Here, baby,” he said indulgently, taking her hands and positioning them. “You hold your tits. There, tight, like that, so I can feel it. That’s the way. Now you can come along for the ride.” Gently squeezing a nipple with one hand, he reached back with the other, found her swollen clit, slid his finger deeper, targeted her soft, cushy G-spot, and murmured, “How’s that? Feel good?”

Her wispy sigh ended in a soft, low groan. Beyond words at the moment, she nodded.

He got the message and slid in a second finger.

And she suddenly understood, as though the incomprehensible now had meaning, that feeling this intense pleasure had nothing to do with free will but with the willfulness of one Dominic Knight—who held her in thrall. He moved his fingers just then in delicious, lazy circles over her throbbing G-spot, and reflection gave way to a sharp-set, hurtling thrill that tore through her sex, raced up her spine and exploded in a sharp high cry.