Desire's Edge (4 page)
He kept kissing her, kissing her, and she braced her hands on the door behind her as he pressed against her. His body was all hard muscle: his strong thighs, his chest, his broad shoulders. And that one hard ridge pressing into her belly. Hard and big and oh . . .
She was panting by the time he released her mouth and began to undress her. In moments, it seemed, she was left in her bra and panties, not even knowing how it had happened, exactly, her dress and her boots in a pile on the floor.
“Hold still,” he told her, his voice a low command, and something in her responded, reverberated with it.
He stood back and pulled his own clothes off, watching her. She could barely make out the dark gleam of his eyes. But she felt them on her like a burning coal, heating her skin, scorching her.
“Dante . . .”
“Shh. I know what you need, Kara. Just stay there; let me look at you. Touch you. I’ll do the rest.”
She felt her body go loose all over. There was something about what he was saying to her, the way he said it, that made her feel . . . released. It was odd. She was normally fairly aggressive sexually. But with him, she didn’t feel any need to be. None at all. As if she could easily do as he said. Hold still. Let him do everything.
She didn’t understand it. She didn’t need to.
The air was cool on her nearly bare skin, the wood of the door hard and cold behind her. But the contrast only added to the heat of his fingertip as he traced a long, slow line down her stomach. She shivered, trying not to move. He reached the top edge of her panties, and she sighed quietly.
“Do you like it when I touch you, Kara?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Kara. Say it so I can hear you.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice echoing in the high-ceilinged apartment, sounding too loud to her ears.
She was melting inside. Some strange sensation linked to the way he was treating her. As though he were completely in charge.
He was.
She knew it. And something in her loved it.
Don’t think about it. Don’t question it.
His hand moved up, over her ribs, higher, until his fingertip rested in the narrow space between her breasts. Her nipples went hard.
“It kills me not to touch you. Really touch you. But there’s something that’s just too good in torturing myself a little this way.” He paused. “Do you feel it, Kara? That nearly unbearable pleasure in waiting?” He paused again. She couldn’t catch her breath enough to answer. “You don’t need to tell me. I can feel it in the tension in your body. In how quiet you’ve become. I can feel it in the heat of your skin.”
A hard ache had started between her thighs. Yes, nearly unbearable.
“Dante, please . . .”
“Please what?” he asked, his voice so soft she could barely hear it.
“Please touch me now.”
A small chuckle from him then. But there was nothing condescending in it. He was merely pleased. And it warmed her to know that he was.
What was going on with her?
“You ask so nicely,” he told her. “So sweetly. But your body will be even sweeter under my hands. My mouth. And you’re right here, just waiting for me . . .”
One breath, then two, while they both stood perfectly still. All she could hear was his breath and her own. Then he was on her. One hand went into her hair, gripped the long strands right at the scalp, pulling her head back. His lips went to her throat, hot and soft, then wet as his tongue flicked out, licking at her skin.
“Ah, Dante . . .”
He moved in closer, his body pressing into hers again, and through the soft cotton of his boxer briefs his erection was solid, pressing against her flesh.
God, to feel him inside her . . .
But right now she was almost too distracted by what he was doing to her: sucking on her neck, licking, his teeth sinking in just hard enough. His hands were everywhere: on her sides, her thighs, then slipping her bra off. He filled his palms with her flesh, and she arched into him, her hard nipples against his palms.
“Jesus,” he muttered, pulling his mouth from her neck, pausing to look at her breasts for several moments. Then he lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth.
“Ah, God, Dante . . . Yes.”
Her hands went into his hair, and it was soft and silky. She held on, held him to her breast as his tongue moved over her aching flesh. He lapped at her, over and over that hard nub, sending desire like lightning through her system. Her sex was wet and hurting.
Needing
.
Needing
.
“Come on, Dante.”
She wasn’t even sure what she was asking for. Just
more
.
more
.
“Shh. Quiet, Kara.”
The command in his tone made her limp, her muscles loose and warm. Yes, just to hand it all over to him. To let him take charge . . .
He pushed her against the door with his hands, one on her shoulder, one on her belly. Then he moved his hands lower to slide her panties off.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, his tone low. “So, so beautiful.”
He knelt down, and, holding her hard against the door once more with his hand on her hip, he used the other to push her thighs apart.
She could feel his breath warm at the apex of her thighs. And as he leaned in, her sex squeezed in anticipation.
“Do you want my mouth on you, Kara?” he asked her.
“Yes, Dante . . . Oh . . .”
His tongue flicked out, one brief flicker against the hard nub of her clitoris.
“Ah, God . . .”
He held her harder against the door. Leaned in and licked. One long, slow stroke up the length of her soaking cleft.
Pleasure hummed, a sharp current arcing through her. From sex to belly to breasts. He licked again, and once more it was like a jolt of pure pleasure.
“You taste like honey, Kara. I swear it,” he murmured against her needy flesh.
He licked again. And again. His tongue was soft and silky and hot. Burning her up. With pleasure. With a need that was spiraling, climbing higher and higher. His tongue moved faster, sliding over the lips of her sex, over her hard clit. But she needed more. And without her saying anything, he seemed to sense it.
Pulling back, he told her, “Spread for me now. Yes, that’s it. Perfect. You’re so damn wet. So perfect.”
He used his fingers to spread her pussy lips, and even the hard press of his fingers on her flesh was exquisite.
Even better when he bent his head once more and took her clit into his mouth and sucked.
“Ah!”
She thought he’d pause. Tease her. But instead he really went to work, sucking, sucking at her clit. His tongue swept over the hard tip, back and forth. She was going to come any moment.
When he pushed two fingers inside her, the sensation was shocking. Intense. She had to hold her climax back, wanting simply to feel it all: his mouth, his fingers inside her, beginning to pump now, like some small cock.
She pulled in a breath, trying not to come. But she was overwhelmed by sensation. He drove his fingers deeper, sucked her in,
drank
her in. And her climax roared through her like a freight train as thunder clapped outside the windows. Pleasure and pleasure. Sensation upon sensation. All of it deep in her sex, her belly. She shuddered, her legs almost too weak to hold her up, if Dante’s hand wasn’t still on her hip, pressing her against the door.
drank
her in. And her climax roared through her like a freight train as thunder clapped outside the windows. Pleasure and pleasure. Sensation upon sensation. All of it deep in her sex, her belly. She shuddered, her legs almost too weak to hold her up, if Dante’s hand wasn’t still on her hip, pressing her against the door.
Was it the sudden storm shaking the door? Or was it her? Coming and coming still in tiny, shivering coils, shimmering through her body.
“Oh my God,” she muttered, her head falling back against the door.
“Again,” he demanded.
“What? I can’t. Come on, Dante. Take me to bed.”
“Not yet. I want to make you come again. Here.”
“Oh . . .”
She wanted to argue. But his mouth was on her once more, one hand caressing her breast, taking the full flesh and kneading gently. And his mouth . . . his tongue was softer on her this time, as though he knew she was acutely sensitive after her climax. A gentle lapping at her clitoris, then moving lower to push inside her. She opened her thighs farther for him, held on to his shoulders to steady herself. She was aware of how amazingly soft his skin was beneath her hands. She wanted to touch him: his chest, his cock. But later. After he was done with her. After he made her come again. It was going to be soon.
His tongue was moving inside her, pushing in, slipping out. The sensation was amazing. The pleasure was undeniable. Then he did something she’d never experienced before. He pushed his fingers inside her again, angling them against her G-spot. Her hips arched, and she moaned. Then he slid his tongue right up against her opening, so that it was hard to tell where his fingers stopped and his tongue began. He moved them both, soft, undulating motions. Her hips arched in time with him. And the pleasure built once more, quickly, but in some softer fashion.
When she came this time it wasn’t as sharp as it had been before. But it was deeper, rumbling through her, her clit pulsing with it. Pleasure was like a solid core in her body, thick and sweet, like honey moving through her system. Taking her over.
“Oh . . . Oh . . .”
All she could do was moan, her hips moving against his finger, his mouth. She was dazed. Helpless. Her legs went weak, and she felt herself begin to crumple.
“I’ve got you.”
He caught her, somehow. Pulled her to the floor so that she was lying across his knees. His arms were tight around her. She was still shuddering with her orgasm, as though it had left something behind. Some spark of light traveling through her, lighting her up inside.
She looked at him in the mostly dark room. His gaze was hot, burning in the dim light coming through the windows. His skin was hot to the touch, his body solid muscle. She could only lie in his arms, trying to catch her breath.
“Jesus Christ, girl.” The words came out on a panting breath. Full of desire. Low and smoky. “That was beautiful. I need to do it again. To fuck you. To make you come. Over and over. Yes . . . I need to make you come again.”
All she could do was moan.
He held her as he got to his feet, taking her with him. And before she could protest that she really could walk, he was carrying her across the room. She could hear the soft scuffing of his bare feet against the polished wood floors. She caught once more the breathtaking views from the windows as he carried her behind a screen and laid her down on a big bed.
“Hang on.”
He leaned over the bed and pulled the covers back, moved her onto the cool sheets, then climbed in with her, laying his nownaked body over hers.
“I need to be inside you, Kara. Just fuck you hard. Can you take it?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me you want it.”
God, his body was like burning silk against hers. His skin so smooth. His cock so hard, resting between her thighs.
“Kara. Tell me,” he commanded.
“Yes, I can take it. I want it hard. I like it hard.”
“Hard fucking? Or more?”
“More?” Why did her breath catch in her throat when he asked her that? Was he asking what she thought he was? “Dante?”
He kissed her neck, his lips firm yet soft. He nipped at her with his teeth, and the pain was nothing more than sharp pleasure. He was tracing her lips gently with his fingertips, and she could smell her own ocean scent there. He was all contradictions, this man. She loved it. Loved that he touched her all over at once. Sensation overload.
“I like my sex a little rough,” he told her, kissing her neck once more, then the curve of her jaw.
“Oh . . .”
“Does that shock you?”
“No. Not much shocks me.”
“Do you like the idea, Kara? Because I think you do. As soon as I said it, your whole body let go.”
“God, Dante. I . . . Yes. I like it. It’s what I want. Exactly what I want.”
It was his turn to moan. “Ah, you are perfect,” he said. Then after a few breathless moments he said again, “I like it rough. I like to really pump into you. To bite you. To pinch your nipples.”
“Yes . . .”
God, was he really saying these things to her? Her wildest fantasies come true. The ones that had sent her ex, Jake, running in the other direction. Telling her she was crazy. Some sort of weirdo. But she didn’t want to think of him now.
Dante said quietly, “What I really want to do is spank you.”
“Oh!”
“Now I’ve shocked you.”
“No. It’s not that.”
“What is it?”
“It’s just . . . what I’ve always wanted. Craved.”
She felt a shiver go through him. Then there was a long pause before he said, “This is going to be very good, then. I promise you, Kara.”
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