Confess (The Blue Line Series Book 1) (6 page)

Keeping one hand in her hair, he parted their kiss just long enough to pull his shirt over his head then returned.

Lacy’s head swam in a fog. She slid down the door, but Mitch caught her, holding her captive in his arms. “Tell me this is what you want.” He spoke against her mouth, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth and biting down until the pain sparked an awakening in her that she could no longer control. “Tell me exactly how you want me to take you tonight.”

“You’re what I want.” The words came out a small whisper when he finally pulled away to stare into her eyes.

She stared back, the insanity of her actions draining away like a forgotten fear. A few hours ago they had been strangers. How did they get from an innocent game of Grammy rules poker to seductively kissing against a bedroom door and hoping for more?

She didn’t know. Couldn’t think. The room was spinning around her. The only constant, Mitch.

His mouth moved to her neck, kissing a line down her throat then nibbling the same trail back up. Trying to rationalize her motives seemed to sink into the haze of her brain along with her modesty.

“If you know what’s good for you,” he pressed his heated lips into the curve of her neck, lifted her to her tiptoes when his teeth sank into her sensitive flesh and nibbled, “you’ll push me away and lock that bedroom door before I go too far and can’t stop myself.”

Lacy let her head roll back so he could move down the front of her throat to the dip above her collar bone. She couldn’t back away now if she tried.

Part of her wanted to heed the warning, push away from him and run for the safety of the bedroom, but a much stronger part urged her to meet his challenge. To relish in the freedom of one night spent in the arms if an expert lover. One uncomplicated night of hot sex. Tomorrow she could go back to being practical. Planning the bar with Connie. Cooking dinners for her father. Playing the perfect daughter. But tonight she wanted to be wild.

He raised his chin, and she met his stare.

“I’m not scared of you,” she answered the question burning through his eyes.

His voice was low. “You should be.”

He leaned in and stroked his stubbled chin down the line of her neck, milking a low moan from her throat. No doubt leaving a trail of beard burn she’d have to explain away in the morning, along with the marks on her neck. His marks. It didn’t matter now. Worry ceased to exist in his arms.

Her belly tightened at the grating burn of blunt hair on her soft skin.

He leaned his head back, giving her a full view of his face. A transformation had taken place while he’d nuzzled her neck. Gone was the man so hell bent on protecting her from Stetson, replaced by someone with fear provoking need in his eyes. The sudden rush of adrenaline made her breath stop and her knees buckle.

Mitch squeezed her hips between his hands, hoisting her up against the wall. He balanced her body with his thigh as he pressed himself between her legs. On instinct, she wrapped both legs round his waist. “If you want me to break my promise and fuck you, you’re going to have to beg for it.”

The part of her that craved control balked at the idea of begging for any man. But another part, one she’d ignored too long, urged her to comply.

“I don’t beg.” Even through the protest, her body arched from the wall and pressed into his. Her nipples burned from his bare flesh. Her clit swelled with untapped desire.

A grin played on his lips. He titled his head from one side, stopping long enough to take her in, then to the other side. “Oh, yes you will. When I’m done with you, begging will be your favorite form of communication.” He reached through her hair and circled his fingers around her neck to pull her closer. With his other hand, he cupped between her thighs and fondled the damp fabric hiding her arousal. A pleased grin crossed the dark lines on his face. “See, your body already knows how to beg for me. Now your mouth needs to learn.”

If his hips hadn’t held her pressed to the door, she would have melted into a pile on the floor.

Mitch descended on her, pressed his mouth into hers. He rubbed circles over the fabric that covered her clit until her body shuttered so close to release she bit her lower lip and held her breath, hoping to hold onto the feeling as long as possible. He took her right to the edge. Then he stopped.

“Don’t stop yet,” she whispered in his ear.

“I didn’t say you could come.” Mitch’s voice blew across her neck before he pulled the delicate flesh of her bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled until waves of pain-laced pleasure rippled through her.

A
please
perched on Lacy’s lips, ready to leap into the air and signal him on, but she couldn’t let herself go that far yet. She had to hold on to some string of control, or her desire for Mitch would swallow her whole.

“Beg,” he commanded. “I want to hear you beg me to bury my cock in you. I want to hear the words from your swollen lips.”

She squeezed her shaking legs around him. The rush of defiance and the pressure from his thumb were enough to make her squirm against his hand.

She wanted more. God, she’d do anything if he’d rip the boxers off and take her, right there in the middle of the hallway up against a door. But she’d never begged for anything in her life, and she didn’t intend to start now.

“No,” she answered. He’d already said once she started something he wouldn’t be able to stop. “If you want to fuck me, then do it anyway.”

Mitch narrowed his gaze on hers. His hand stilled. His lips curled into a delicious smile. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

He dropped her feet to the floor. One steady arm swooped behind her knees, catching her and lifting her into his arms and through the bedroom door. He kissed her, a hard assault, no longer asking permission, but taking what he wanted. Greedy. Hard.

Lacy fought back, pulling his lips in between hers, licking her tongue across the slit of his mouth until he opened and allowed her entry.

Pressed against his chest, he lowered her to the bed.

One slow, seductive inch at a time, Mitch crawled up her. His lower lip burned a trail from the curve of her right hip to one tightened breast. His tongue worked circles around the nipple then his mouth closed and sucked hard against the swollen areola, pulling an invisible string from the sensitive flesh to her clit, before moving on and repeating the ruthless routine with the second.

“Beg me,” he whispered, his lips pressed to her breast.

She dropped her head back. “I don’t beg, Detective.” Her voice shook as a spasm of desire washed over her.

Unsatisfied with her answer, Mitch spread her quivering thighs with one leg and slid his hand under the boxers, right back to the same spot that had sent her so near completion minutes before. He worked his thumb along her bare clitoris in circles, gliding along from her juices.

Without the protective barrier of fabric, Lacy couldn’t hold off the ripple any longer. The shock waves washed her body with heat and need. Her head fogged, blocking out the small voice telling her this was all wrong, until he stopped moving.

“No.” The word came out a mumble against his mouth. She tightened around him, held him in place and rocked against the even pressure of his hand. She swam so close to freedom her head went light, and her vision blurred.

“Beg, Angel. Beg to come on my hand. Beg me to finish you.”

“Why?” She wasn’t sure if the scant air in her collapsed lungs had managed to push the single word out until his fingers stopped again.

When he pulled his mouth away from her breast, her eyes fluttered open to find the most satisfied grin sketched across his face.

He narrowed his gaze and tightened his grip around her arms. The length of him pressed at her clothed mound, coaxing moisture to form where the heat had radiated.

“Because I need to know you want me in control.” He kissed the place below her throat. “Because when I fuck you to oblivion and back, I need to know you want it as bad as I do.” His mouth lowered to one shoulder, then the other. “Because in the morning, I’m going to want you all over again, and I need to know you’re not going to regret a moment of tonight.” He slid his fingers under the boxer’s waistline, and he pulled the fabric down her legs in slow motion.

Lacy swallowed the knot in her throat and let go. “Fuck me, please.”

A grin played on his lips before he buried his face in her. His tongue lapped against her swollen clit.

Lacy wrapped her fingers in his hair, pulled fistfuls of the soft strands between her fingers, giving him permission to take her to the brink.

In the short time they’d known each other, he’d already figured her out. Lacy couldn’t back away from a challenge, no matter the stakes. And he was using that weakness to his favor.

“Please,” she begged, sucking her lower lip in and biting down to keep from coming a second time.

He squeezed her ass cheeks in both hands, arching her upward, taking her deeper into his mouth. The warm sensation sent her spiraling out of control.

Mitch climbed up her body and hovered just over her on his elbows, the light sprinkle of chest chair tickling the inflamed skin of her breasts. His teeth bit into her shoulder. His denim jeans chafed the soft flesh between her legs, the friction almost enough to send her reeling into another orgasm.

Lacy reached for his waistband, but he grabbed her hand and stopped her at the button. “No.”

He had to be kidding. She looked up into his stormy brown eyes. “But I begged.”

Mitch rocked his hips back and forth, pressing the rough fabric into her sweet spot. She moaned at the pleasure, feeling his stiff erection under the relentless inseam. “Next time I ask you to beg, you won’t hesitate.” He smiled. “And I made you a promise. Locked bedroom door…”

“You also said you’d spread me out on your bed, and I’d wake up there in the morning. What about that promise?” Lacy lifted to her elbows, desperate for him to ease the ache he’d flamed inside her. Desperate for release. “I won’t think any less of you in the morning.”

He cupped her face between his hands and looked down to her. “The first promise I made as a jerk. The second as a gentleman.”

Lacy smiled. The heat in his gaze said he couldn’t hold out much longer. “A gentleman would have locked the door already.”

He ground his hip into her over and over, picking up speed until she arched against him, circling through her second sweet release. Mitch kept moving to help her ride out the spasms until her body stilled.

With her eyes closed, the last of the spasms faded as she felt Mitch’s weight lift from the bed. She didn’t open them, too afraid she’d see him retreat. But, instead, his weight returned to the bed and his warm fingers slid up her sides until his hard cock laid naked along her inner thigh. “I thought you said you didn’t beg?”

Without waiting for her answer, he rocked to his knees and pulled on a condom before spreading her legs with his thigh and pressing the head into her folds.

Lacy grabbed handfuls of sheet and bit her lips together, but the moan of pleasure still escaped.

The first two thrusts came easy, stretching her to accommodate his length, but the third pressed in hard and deep. “Is this what you wanted, Angel? To feel my cock inside you?”

Lacy moaned a yes.

She found the courage to release one hand from the sheets and search out his shoulder. Her nails dug in as she held on. With her eyes closed, she pictured their silhouette. Him hovering over her with one arm pulling her back up from the bed in a bow. Her, arms forward, reaching for her lover. How erotic it must look when he pumped into her.

“I can’t make your mouth beg for me, but your body knows how to listen. Doesn’t it.” He drove deeper, stealing her next breath.

She could only whisper his name in answer.

He dropped his mouth to her neck to kiss her. “Trust me, Angel.”

The plea milked a shiver. “Trust me enough to let go.”

Lacy rolled her head back into the covers and closed her eyes tight. “I’ve never trusted anyone enough to do this. Not anyone.”

He rocked back, pulling out almost completely. “Let yourself go. Trust me.” With a gentleness that surprised her after the first forceful thrusts, he moved forward again, working her slow and with deliberate stride until the need for more became so great she dug her nails in deeper and bit her lip to keep from demanding more.

“Let go,” he whispered. He circled his fingers around her hips and drove in at a now punishing rate that fogged out everything but her building need for release.

Lacy dropped her hands over his and held on. Her hips worked with him, driving him on for more.

Above her, the growing thrums of a building moan echoed as he neared his own end. “Give it to me, Angel. Surrender.”

His coarse demand coupled with the last strong pulses of his cock as he neared release sent her racing to the edge.

She had submitted, hadn’t she? In his home. In his bed. She’d given in to a night of uncomplicated sex.

“Surrender,” he whispered again, his lips hovering over her ear.

He moved his hand between her legs and pressed into her clit. With his cock still buried inside, he began working her sex in exquisite circles to match each trust.

A wave of excitement washed over her followed by the clenching of muscles and the need to climax.

For the first time ever, Lacy let reality drain from her, replaced with the warm rush of Mitch’s release.

This was what he meant by surrender. Reaching the edge with him and being able to let him take her over.

His elbows buckled, and his weight dropped to her. He rested his head on her chest as she fought to cut through the fog.

Her body felt too heavy to move.

He’d asked her to let go, to trust him, and she’d said nothing. Stayed emotionally unattached. Milked her release from him and given nothing back in return.

That was how this relationship was supposed to work. One night. No strings. Fucking eggs for breakfast. But, in that moment of post-sex bliss, she wasn’t sure staying emotionally unattached was possible for her.

His weight lifted.

She heard the sliding of a drawer from the wood dresser then his weight returned, and he worked something soft and warm up her legs and hugged around her waist. A fresh pair of boxers.