Off Limits (4 page)

“Make me come,” she moaned, turning her head against the pillow.

He sat up, no longer touching her, and she twisted to look at him.

“What?”

He unfastened his slacks. “On your back.”

Her emotions jumbled. He’d aroused her, made her ready to be fucked from behind, and now he wanted her to face him. Now she could kiss him, hold him, while he made love to her. And God, she wanted to touch him. She rolled onto her back and sat up in the same movement.

“Let me,” she said, reaching for his zipper, letting her fingers trace the line of his erection through his slacks.

He drew in a breath through his teeth that told her he didn’t want to play around, so she opened his pants and reached inside. This time she drew in a breath. She’d gotten the impression he was big, the way he’d rubbed against her, but damn. Her cunt squeezed even as she worried about taking him into her.

“Don’t tease,” he chided softly as she glided her palm up the underside of his cock to slide her fingers around the head of him.

She released him and shoved his open slacks down his hips. He rose onto his knees to help her, then shifted to strip his slacks over his long lean legs. At last they were naked together, like she’d dreamed since she knew what sex was, only Zach was much bigger, muscular, broad shouldered than she’d fantasized, black hair across his hard pecs, and a cock dreams were made of, long and thick and dark with arousal. She curled her fingers around it, sliding up and down. He stretched out beside her, reaching for the wallet he’d tossed on the nightstand.

“I hope you have more than one,” she murmured when he drew out his condom.

“Maybe once will be enough,” he teased.

She tightened her grip around the base of his shaft. “I don’t think so.”

He tore open the packet and passed the condom to her. Her pulse kicked hard. He guided her as she fit it over the tip of his penis and rolled it down the length, securing it. He removed her touch and stroked her hair back from her face, bending to kiss her gently as he moved between her legs, his weight over her, his erection against her thighs. He glided his touch over her mound and parted her lips to stroke over her slick petals, God, finally, finally. She lifted her hips, parting her legs, inviting his fingers to explore, needing them to.

He slipped a finger into her, and another, thrusting, stretching until she pushed back. His jaw tightened, and he pushed deeper one more time before drawing his fingers free, sliding them up over her clit.

“I don’t want to wait anymore.” He shifted forward, pressing the head of his cock to her entrance, and flexed his hips, showing amazing restraint as he eased into her body.

Every centimeter of her channel fluttered with excitement at the invasion, at the slide and stretch. This was what she’d wanted for years. Zach over her, watching her, wanting her. She arched her back, bringing him deeper so his groin was flush against her pussy. She gasped at the sensation, and he smoothed his fingers over her cheek.

“Not very patient, are you?”

“I’ve waited long enough.”

His eyes shuttered at that—when would she learn to keep her mouth shut?—and he curved his hands under her ass, stroking into her in little movements to keep himself deep. The thrusts bumped his groin against her swollen clit, and she was awash in pleasure and anticipation. She hoped the tightness of his expression had to do with him holding back his orgasm and not with her thoughtless words. She drew his head down to her, wanting his kiss. He covered her mouth with his, filling her with his taste, that expensive Scotch, his mouth moving in rhythm with his body, now slow and sultry, as if he, too, was absorbing every sensation.

She glided her palms over his back, feeling the muscles bunch and release with each thrust, feeling the power of him, the strength. God, he was beautiful, and tonight he was hers. She lightly scraped her nails over his buttocks and brushed the hair of his upper thighs. He made a sound, half grunt, half sigh in her ear, tensing over her.

“You have to—stop that.”

She lifted her hands above his ass. “You don’t like it?”

He rubbed his lips back and forth over her jaw. “I like it. Too much.”

Delight shivered through her. “I thought old men like you couldn’t come again so fast.”

He pinched her ass. “Watch it, or I’ll leave you in the dust.”

She rolled her hips against his and trailed her fingers up his back to his shoulders, and down his arms, savoring the flex of muscles beneath her palms. “Your pride would never allow it.”

“I don’t like to be rushed.”

She let her hands fall to the pillow beside her head, palms up in surrender. “By all means. Take your time.”

He chuckled softly. The sound sent a thrill through her stronger than any caress, then disappeared as he lowered his head to her throat. She inclined her head back to allow him access as he nuzzled the sensitive underside of her jaw, stubble rasping, teeth scraping before his tongue soothed her skin. The attention tightened everything in her as he moved in and out of her with incredible control. He curved his hand under her breast to lift it to his mouth and teased her nipple with the lightest brush of his lips, the heat of his breath. She moaned and arched her back, inviting him to take more.

Instead he lifted his head, cupped the back of her knee and lifted her leg, bending it against her body, opening her wider for him, moving deeper, faster, more fully against her. His skin grew slick beneath her touch as she clutched his back. Each thrust, each pant that gusted over her flesh, brought her closer, closer, until her whole being focused on his cock, her clit. She thought she felt him swelling inside her. God, close.

He slipped his fingers between them and swept over her clit with dead accuracy, and she flew apart, the orgasm shooting through her, so strong she expected to see sparks shooting out the ends of her fingers. Zach’s body strained against hers, pushing deep, flush against her, so close that she felt his heart pound all through her body. He groaned and stiffened with his release. His breath shuddered out of him as he lowered his head to her shoulder.

She curled her fingers through his hair and turned her head to kiss him, which he allowed about a second before he pulled away, out of her. She whimpered in protest when he rolled off the bed, but she was too boneless to reach for him. He moved to the bathroom in perfect naked glory, the man of her dreams. And she had to play it cool or tonight would be over before it had begun.

When Zach walked back into the room a few minutes later, Paige was curled on her side facing him, one hand propped under her head, still completely naked. He thought he’d battled his libido into submission, but his fingers itched to roam over that soft skin.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?” he asked, bending to reach for his pants.

“Why? Does this room rent by the hour?”

Smartass. “No. But don’t you have to get home, get ready for work tomorrow?” He yanked on the pants sans underwear, needing some kind of barrier against her and her hungry gaze, as if she hadn’t just melted in the orgasm he gave her minutes before.

“I’m good.”

“Well. I have to be up early.” He could leave. She could stay here tonight, and he could go home. But would he get any sleep thinking about what he’d walked away from?

“Then you should probably come to bed and get some sleep.” She smoothed her hand on the duvet in front of her, on the bed that suddenly seemed too small.

“Put on some clothes.”

Her mouth twisted in distaste. “That dress is itchy. I’d rather sleep naked. Unless you want to give me your shirt.”

He scowled, but figured his shirt was safer than her bare skin, so he scooped it up and tossed it to her.

He couldn’t take his gaze from her as she sat up, slipped it on and buttoned it up.

Ho. Ly. God.

Her breasts pushed against the fine white fabric, her nipples visible. The tails of the shirt covered her mons and ass but cut up high on her shapely legs. And knowing she was naked beneath made him hard.

Already.

And son of a bitch, she knew it. She knew just what she was doing to him as she lay back on the bed, arms stretched above her head, the lower placket of his shirt parting just over her pussy.

His head buzzing, he crossed to the phone and picked up the room-service menu beside it. “You want anything?” he asked.

“It’s probably too late for room service.”

How did she know that? How many hotel rooms had she been in? How many men had she been with? Rich, him wondering that, when he’d been with more women than he could count. He scanned the menu, anything to keep his eyes off her in that sultry pose.

“No, they serve until midnight. It’s only a little after ten now.” He extended the menu to her, but she shook her head. He set it back on the table, not hungry either. Well, hungry, but not for food.

“You don’t have to sneak peeks, Zach. You are more than welcome to look.” She drew up one leg so the fabric of his shirt fell away a little, exposing more of her cunt. “I want you to look. I want you to want me again.”

He wanted her, no question. He shook with the desire. God, why was he so warped about this? He’d made love to her already. If he could just put all the complications of their relationship aside…

He sat on the edge of the bed, as far from her as he could get.

“You wouldn’t have brought those girls here, right? You would have fucked them right there.”

“Maybe. Or there are private rooms at the club.”

“I’d heard that.” She shifted on the bed but he didn’t turn to look. “So why did you bring me here? Why didn’t we just go in one of those rooms?”

“I don’t know.” He wasn’t going to tell her she was too good for that place, that he’d wanted more privacy, more time. So why was he balking now, when he had all night, and she was clearly willing?

“You wanted me out of there.”

He didn’t answer.

“But you wanted me. Was it me you wanted, or would any girl there have done?”

He turned to her, saw her leg drawn up, damn near modest, though she looked like a model there in his shirt, sexy as fucking hell. “No. No girl there would have done.”

The smile she gave him was the girl he’d known since she was nine, not the seductress, and she sat up, folding her legs in front of him. Thank God the shirttails fell between her parted thighs.

“I changed my mind. I want ice cream.”

He studied her a moment to see if she was fucking with him. But she seemed perfectly innocent—at least as innocent as a woman wearing the shirt of the man she’d just made love to could look. He reached for the phone. “A sundae?”

Well. That was a bad decision. The server delivered a hot-fudge sundae that could feed a small city—the sink basin was smaller than the bowl. Paige took it with a moan of approval and settled in the center of the bed. Her expression of delight as she took the first bite drew him closer to the bed despite himself.

“You want some?”

“I’m not much of an ice cream guy.” The whipped cream, though, that might be another story.

“Come on.” She waved a spoonful of melting ice cream and fudge at him.

He shook his head, and she shrugged, directing the spoon to her own mouth. A dollop of chocolate dropped from her spoon, right to her cleavage.

“Oh!” She looked up at him with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Cold!”

Yeah, he noticed, because her nipples were pushing against the fabric of his shirt, and he no longer cared that she was waving chocolate near the fine material. “I’ll get a towel,” he said, though his feet seemed to be rooted to the spot.

“That’s okay.” She reached between her breasts and scooped the chocolate up with her finger, which she promptly thrust in her mouth, licking while she kept her gaze on him.

He was instantly hard, and she knew exactly what she was doing. She took another bite, this one actually making it in her mouth, but his gaze was riveted to the streak of chocolate on her skin just above the opening of his shirt. God, he needed to taste her. She took another big spoonful, smiling at him around it, and he knelt on the bed beside her, removing the bowl from her hands.

“Get out of my shirt before you get it dirty.”

Tossing her hair back so she could look straight into his eyes, she lifted her fingers to the buttons and worked them free, baring all that smooth white skin. When his shirt was safely across the room, and she sat in the same position, one leg folded in front, the other behind, her head tilted up expectantly. He edged closer, dipping the spoon in the melting whipped cream and smearing it over her parted lips. She gasped when he bent to lick it off, slipping his tongue between her lips, stroking from the cool to the heat and feeling the vibration of her lust all the way to his cock.

He lifted his head, dug the spoon a bit deeper and coated it with the thick fudge. She drew in a breath as he dangled it over her before smearing it between her breasts. She let her head fall back on a moan, and he lowered his head to lick it from her skin, his tongue dragging slowly over her flesh as he braced his hand on the bed beside her. The chocolate combined with the saltiness of her skin, and the scent of her arousal. Christ. He didn’t know how much longer he could play this game.

He straightened, swirled the spoon and touched it to her breast before sucking the sweet ice cream concoction from her taut nipple.

She slid her fingers down his arm and reached for the bowl, but he held it out of her reach.

“I’m not done yet. Lay back.”

She did, a bit too eagerly, and parted her legs. He ground his teeth against the desire to toss the ice cream aside and fuck her, but he’d started this. And he loved the way she was going along with it, never taking her gaze from him as her skin flushed with desire, her breath growing shallow with it. He stroked the spoon over her flat stomach and followed the line from her ribs to her navel with his tongue. She curled her fingers in his hair, and he had the feeling she wanted to push him lower. Instead she held him while he lapped at her skin, her legs moving restlessly.

“I thought you didn’t like ice cream.”