Only in My Dreams (4 page)

“No, that stays.” He had a wicked vision of her wearing that sparkly thing and nothing else. “It goes with your eyes.”

She blinked, and for a second he worried that he'd broken the magic going on between them. But then she tucked it into her top and carefully lifted the shirt over her head.

He ran his hands up her arms, helping her—oh, who was he kidding? He wasn't helping so much as appreciating. She was toned and beautiful, and he couldn't keep from touching her. He kept his hands on her wrists over her head and gave her an inquiring look. She answered by kissing him again. Her nearly bare flesh against his was torture. Or would've been if he didn't know exactly where this was going.

Her bracelets jangled against his hands as her body pressed into his. She angled her head, deepening the kiss. He took her shirt and threw it somewhere. He twined his fingers with hers and brought her arms down to her sides. He pulled her away from the wall and found the clasp of her bra. With a flick of his fingers, it came free between them. She grabbed it, and he had no idea what happened next because the feel of her breasts against his chest sent him into overdrive.

He kissed down her neck. “So soft,” he murmured. “God, you're beautiful.”

He drank in her pale perfection and cupped her breasts. They fit his hands like she'd been made for him, which had to be the most ridiculous thing he'd ever thought. There was no such thing as Fate or Things That Were Meant to Be. There was only the moment, the sensation,
this
.

He flicked her nipple, felt her shiver, and grinned. Oh, this was going to be a night to remember.

S
ARA REGISTERED HIS
mouth closing over her breast, his tongue licking her nipple, his hands kneading her flesh, but she wasn't sure she could process it. She might've thought her senses were overstimulated—and she supposed they were—except she didn't feel overwhelmed or panicked in any way. She felt . . . spectacular.

Yes, it had been a long time since she'd done this, but it had been
never
since she'd felt this incredible. Every touch, every kiss, every word was better, sexier, hotter than anything she'd ever experienced.

Dylan made her feel like she was amazing, like she was in control.

“Are we going to make it to the bed?” she asked.

He paused—very briefly—in his sucking. “Not if you don't want to.”

Yes, he made her feel in total control, and that's what would make this night perfect.

“The bed might be nice.” She'd never had sex anywhere other than a bed. Maybe she should try something new? No, the one-night stand was unusual enough, she decided.

His head came up, and cool air brought her nipples into even stiffer peaks. “Let's go.” He slid his hands under her ass and lifted her.

She scissored her legs around his waist and held on to his neck. And because his mouth was so close, she kissed him again. It took her breath away in its intensity, like they hadn't kissed a dozen times already.

He turned with her and made his way up the rest of the stairs.

“Go right,” she said against his mouth before licking along his lower lip.

He groaned softly. “You're going to kill me.”

“Oh, don't say that. I'm not done with you yet.”

He laughed low in his chest. “Thank God.”

“The door's straight ahead.”

He carried her over the threshold and stopped abruptly, his mouth freezing on hers. “Wow, it's pink. Really, really pink.”

She felt a blush creeping up her neck. Yeah, it was really pink, not like a little girl's room or anything, but she liked pink. A lot. “There's some brown.” In a few accent pillows, in the curtains.

“So there is.” He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “It's adorable.”

Uncertainty invaded her sexual fog. Adorable wasn't sexy. She didn't want to be adorable. She was tired of being the cute younger sister. Back in the parking lot, she'd been sure he was about to call things off. He thought she was maybe in over her head. And yeah, she probably was, but damn it, that was her choice. And she was so sick and tired of everyone trying to protect her or thinking they knew what was best for her.
They didn't
.

She pulled her legs from his waist and stood. “You think I'm adorable?”

He tightened his hold on her. “Hey, I didn't mean anything. Adorable is good.” His brow furrowed. “Isn't it?”

She turned him around and walked forward, which forced him to edge back into the room. When they were close enough to the bed, she pulled away from him and pushed him onto the mattress. Or tried to—her pillow-top mattress made the bed very tall.

Instead he teetered against the edge, but didn't quite fall back.

She pursed her lips. “You were supposed to fall on the bed.”

“Oh, sorry.” He made a show of sprawling backward.

She almost laughed, but she was trying to make a point. A sexy, unadorable point. “Adorable is good for little girls with pigtails or puppies. Does adorable do this?” She reached for his waistband and flipped his button open. “Or this?” She pulled his zipper down and slipped her hand inside his jeans.

His cock was thick and ready. She slid her hand down over him, shocking herself with her actions.

“Probably not,” he croaked.

She removed her hand to tug his pants down over his hips. She pulled them off and threw them toward the wall. His socks followed.

All that remained was his boxer briefs. Should she take them off now? Could she? Her fingers found her bracelets and stroked the smooth silver. It calmed her, reminded her that she was a grown woman and she was having a night to remember.

Shaking off her hesitation, she leaned forward and slipped her fingertips in the top of his waistband. “And does adorable do
this
?”

She slowly drew the briefs down his hips. He was absolutely gorgeous, his hips lean and tapered. Then his cock rose free and she seized her inner vixen, which she never even realized existed until tonight. Without bothering to finish removing his shorts, she licked the tip of his erection. Salt and heat rushed over her tongue.

His loud intake of breath filled the room. She opened her mouth and sucked him inside. His fingers wound into her hair. Her necklace dangled over him. He was right, there was something ridiculously sexy about it.

She took him as deep as she dared, running her tongue along the underside of his cock. His breathing came shorter, and his fingers dug into her scalp. She pulled back and plunged forward again with controlled movements—yes, control. She was absolutely in charge of this situation, and it felt
divine
.

“Sara.” His desperate plea only fed her power.

She wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft and slid her hand up to meet her mouth. Then back down. Up again. His hips rose to meet her while he cradled her head.

“Sara, if I promise to never, ever call you adorable again, will you stop?” He sounded strained—pained even.

“What's wrong?” She swirled her tongue around his tip while working her hand along his cock. “Am I too much for you?” She smiled before sucking him in again.

His sexy groan filled her with need. “If you don't stop, this is going to be a much faster escapade than I'd hoped.”

She understood. And she'd made her point—to herself, which was the most important thing. With a final lick, she stood back and looked down at him. His eyes were slitted, his hands now fisting the coverlet. He sat up, his abs flexing with the movement. Sara was, quite simply, speechless at his beauty.

He reached out and pulled her toward him. He spread his legs and settled her between them. “You're one tough taskmaster. But I think pink is now my favorite color. Especially since it makes me think of your lips.” He kissed her, his tongue exploring her mouth with a brief ferocity before he moved south. “And your nipples. Mmmm.” He suckled one and then the other with slow, seductive strokes of his tongue.

He undid her jeans and slid them, along with her underwear, down her legs. “Shall I see what else might be pink?”

He pushed her pants down to her calves. She stepped on one leg to work it off and then kicked the garments to the side. But he'd already moved on. His fingers found her center and he deftly slipped one inside. His head bent. “Pink. And lovely.” He grinned up at her. “And very, very wet.”

Sara closed her eyes as his fingers worked their magic, alternately stroking and pressing and thrusting. In a swift move, he'd scooped her up and set her on the bed.

“That's better.” He spread her legs and buried his mouth against her. His tongue found her clit, and she gasped. Sensations bombarded her. The bracelets fell over her hand, and she slid them around her thumb so that she clutched them in her palm like she was holding onto a tether. And maybe she was. She was certain that she was about to float away.

But she didn't. His mouth and his fingers grounded her, kept her captive until she had to relinquish the control she'd fought so hard to gain. Only she didn't care. Blinding pleasure crept over her, threatened to take her somewhere she'd never been. He sucked on her clit hard and thrust his finger deep inside of her. She bucked, a savage cry erupting from her mouth as an orgasm plunged her over the edge of a mountain she'd only glimpsed the top of before and into a dark, warm abyss.

After her shudders subsided, he left her. A moment later he touched her hand. “Here, let me take these.” Her bracelets. She was still clutching them with a death grip. She felt a moment's panic. Could she let them go?

She opened her eyes and looked at him leaning over her. Holy wow, he was handsome. His chest was so muscled, with just a light dusting of dark brown hair between his pecs. He'd said he worked with his hands . . . and he was certainly an expert, in her opinion. He'd taken excellent care of her so far.

She slid the bangles off and handed them to him. “Thanks.” He set them on her bedside table. When he turned back, she gave him a sultry smile. “I'm still wearing the necklace.” It was half question, half provocative statement. There was something deliciously naughty about wearing it—and nothing else.

“And it looks great on you.” He lay down on the bed beside her, propping his head on his hand. He lifted the necklace from her with the tip of his finger. Then he dragged the chain over her nipple, sending shockwaves through her. Desire ramped up again, as if she hadn't just orgasmed a few minutes ago. He leaned over and drew her breast into his mouth while he moved the chain back and forth over her other nipple. Sara cast her head back against the bed and gave herself up to the sensations. She'd felt a bone-deep satisfaction when she'd come. It had been a sensation she wasn't sure she could compare to anything else—and over the course of her life, she'd spent a lot of time thinking about how she processed sensory input.

Still riding the heady wave of empowerment, she rolled to her hip, dislodging him from her breast. She pushed him back on the bed and gestured for him to rotate so his head was on the pillows.

His gaze was sexy-lazy, but he situated himself as she directed. “Am I where you want me?”

Lust pulsed through her at the suggestion in his tone. “Yes.” She straddled him, pulled the necklace between her breasts, and leaned forward so it grazed his chest. “Am I?”

“Hell yes.” His thumb massaged her clit, and he stroked his hand along the underside of her breast. Then he traced his finger up and around the nipple, finally pulling gently on the peak.

She sucked in a breath and rotated her pelvis against his hips. She edged forward so that his cock brushed her sex.

“Condom,” he said. “In my wallet in the back pocket of my jeans.”

Right, the condom. Damn, she'd almost forgotten.
Dumb move, Sara
. “Be right back.”

She climbed off the bed and found his jeans on the floor. Normally the clutter of their clothing would drive her somewhat mild OCD nuts, but she actually didn't care just then. She pulled his wallet from the pocket and withdrew a condom—he had a few. Which went with what he'd said at the bar—this wasn't atypical for him. That she was simply one woman among many gave her a moment's pause.

She glanced at the bed to find him on his side watching her.

“It's always good to have backup in case the first one breaks,” he said, answering her unspoken question.

He was a thoughtful planner. She liked that. A lot. Too bad she was resolved to make this a one-night stand only. Yes,
she
was resolved. His history—and future—were none of her concern.

She went back to the bed and tore the condom open. “I haven't ever put one of these on.” Her other partners—the whopping two—had always done it.

“Really? I'll help. It can be kind of fun if you do it right.”

“I bet.” She pulled the condom from the package and set the wrapper on the nightstand. “Roll it down?”

“Yep.” He brought her hand to the tip of his cock. “Start here—obviously.” He smiled wickedly. “Then just pull it down. The slower the better.”

She brought the latex down over his flesh. His hand stayed with hers, which made an already sexy activity completely erotic.

When they were done, he closed his eyes briefly. “If you have to wear a condom, that's the way to do it.” He looked at her, his gray-green eyes intense. “You still want to be on top?”

She echoed his answer. “Yep. Let's do this.” She straddled him again.

He chuckled. “You're fantastic.” His fingers stroked her folds. Then he reached up and curled his hand around her neck. “Come here.” He pulled her down for an open-mouthed kiss. His tongue clashed with hers, exploring her mouth while his hand held her head captive. It was the most erotic kiss she'd ever experienced.

His other hand had stayed between her legs, playing with her clit and gliding along her flesh. She ground down against him, wanting more. Then the head of his cock nudged her opening, and he slid into her.