She's Gotta Be Mine (31 page)

Her glance flashed over his face. Uncertainty. Trepidation.

“Tell me.” He’d do anything and everything she asked.

Her pupils dilated to fill her eyes as she drank in the rough demand, his quaking voice. “Kiss me.”

“Oh that’ll be so easy, sweetheart. For as long as you want.”

The squat started an ache in his knees. He planted one on either side of her feet and rose above her. Taking her face in his hands, he covered her lips. First a taste, then a lick along the seam, then he slanted over her mouth, forcing her to open.

Tongue to hers, he sucked, licked, cajoled until she put her hands to his shoulders and leaned against him. He rubbed his cotton T-shirt across her breasts, the nipples pebbling. She moaned and tugged at the shirt still tucked in his waistband. He pulled back enough for her to raise it to his armpits, then dragged her close for skin-to-skin contact.

He took his tongue out of her mouth long enough to say, “Christ, that feels too damn good.”

It wasn’t like he had to lie either. All he had to do was make sure she knew what she was doing to him. Words were as important as action. Maybe even more.

“Is it better than with Cookie?” she murmured against his lips.

“Shit.” He pushed back, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, cupped her face. “She was just a lay.”

“What am I?”

He could lie, tell her he loved her. But lies weren’t what she needed. “I don’t know what you are, Bobbie. But you keep me awake at night. You make me take my cock in my own hand as I lay in the dark thinking about you. I’m not going to let you walk out that door before I finish what we started Sunday night.”

In the heat of the moment, sometimes being wanted and desired was more important, more powerful than love. She drank it in. “Kiss me again.”

He did, willing to give her anything. The kiss was voracious, an attack, a bonding, their lips sealing his desire.

He reached back and pulled his T-shirt over his head, flinging it across the room. Then, kissing her again, he went for the tie of her apron and two more buttons of her uniform. She had to help him to pull the tight material down over her hips, lifting for him. Her panties came off as well, though he would have liked to linger over their removal.

The curls didn’t match her hair. Dark, damp, inviting, he smoothed his hand over them. She held her breath as he spread her legs scant inches. Wanting to draw out the pleasure, his, hers, he slid a finger along the pink slit, not entering, merely testing.

“You’re pretty down here, too.”

She laughed, muffled it against his shoulder.

Then he did enter, just the tip of his finger, first gliding over the bud of her clitoris. She tugged her lip between her teeth.

“Did you like the orgasm I gave you the other night?”

“Yes.” Her eyes darted from his to his hand between her legs.

He grinned. “I can do better.”

An answering smile curved her lips. Her body heated, clamped his finger. “You can?”

“Much better. And more than once.”

She parted her lips and leaned back on her hands as he eased further inside. “That would be okay.”

He spread her legs for a fuller touch, then put two fingers inside her.

“God, you’re wet. And warm.” He’d never talked much during sex, but the words seemed to turn him inside out, the way he wanted to do to her.

He buried his fingers, then retreated, easing over a sweet spot that made her breath rush out. “Do you like it?”

“
Mmm
. Yes.” She licked her lips, panted, then took one deep breath and settled.

He put his thumb to her clitoris as he worked her with his fingers. She fell back on her elbows, her legs splaying further. He leaned over her, manipulating her, savoring the change in her breath, the slow fall of her eyelids. Then she arched her back and let out a long, low moan.

“Come on, sweetheart, come for me. Scream. I want to hear you scream.”

He quickened his fingers and thumb, not realizing how close she was until her back bowed off the bed, and she cried out. Her hands went to her face, ran through her hair, and her hips bucked at his fingers. He didn’t let her go, didn’t let her throw him off, just kept sliding through the slick folds, holding her at the peak as long as he could.

“God, you make me hot,” he murmured. “I could watch you do that all night.”

She finally wrenched away, one knee caught at his waist, her hands pushing at his. He bent forward to kiss her, his belly at the juncture of her thighs, her body slippery against his.

“That’s just the first one,” he promised against her lips.

“Your pants are still on.”

“You can take them off when we’re ready.” Hell, he was ready, his cock a hard rock against the zipper of his jeans. But she’d come only once. “I’ll keep them on until you’ve reached the fifth orgasm. At least.”

“I’ll die before then.” She laughed. She believed. Thank God.

He’d kept his finger on her button, now he flicked it. Her body jerked in response. “Ready?”

“Yes, please.”

He got her off twice more with his fingers. He wanted to use his tongue for the fourth, craving the taste of her. Coaxing her farther up the mattress, he shoved a pillow beneath her hips.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure I taste every bit of you. It’s a very delicate process.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Something wavered beneath the surface, a tinge of fear. She pushed at his shoulders between her legs.

“I’m going to die if I don’t do it.” He put his hand on her chest, tweaked one tight nipple. “But I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

She bit her lip, brows drawing together. That fucking husband, excuse me,
nonfucking
husband. He’d never done this for her. She’d wanted him to, but he wouldn’t. Or if he had, he’d made her feel his distaste. If the bastard hadn’t been under lock and key, Nick would have beaten him up.

“Let me do it,” he whispered. “Let me kiss your pretty pink lips.”

She stared at him a moment longer, almost wild-eyed. Then her head fell back to the mattress, her hips rising to him. “Oh God, please. I do want you to.”

He didn’t give her a millisecond to change her mind.

His tongue delved to her clitoris. Lips smothering her, he suckled. She moaned, writhed. He pulled her legs over his shoulders and held her hips to the pillow. And made her go wild.

* * * * *

Bobbie hadn’t thought he could wring another orgasm from her, her body spent, replete, beyond satisfied. But he did. He used his tongue on her and his fingers inside her, and she prayed to God the windows were closed because when she came the fourth time, the fifth close on its heels almost as if they were one, she screamed the way he’d told her to. An
ahh
and an
ooh
. Long and loud. She tossed her head, hair flinging across her eyes.

“Oh my God, please don’t stop, please never stop. Oh my God.” A voice echoed in the room, hers, but not hers. So different, almost guttural. Wanton. She’d always dreamed of being a raving sex lunatic, and Nick turned her into one with his clever tongue and skillful fingers.

His enjoyment couldn’t be faked. The way his fingers dug into her bottom couldn’t be mistaken for casual involvement. He’d said all the right words, done all the right things. She didn’t want to doubt him, didn’t want to doubt herself. Not now, when she felt this wonderful, marvelous, stupendous. Damn, she was good. So was he. He held her to his mouth until the last of her shudders faded away, his tongue massaging, gentling.

He raised his head, dark eyes gleaming in moonlight. “Okay, that was five.” He didn’t have to ask, he knew the one had quickly followed the other.

“Now what?” she asked softly.

“Now you take off my jeans like you promised and let me bury my cock deep inside you.”

His mixture of compliments and dirty talk made her heart flip. She’d give him anything he wanted. Except that he was actually giving it to her.

She pulled the pillow from beneath her hips and sat up. Hand to the front of his pants, she palmed the bulge. It was huge. And hard. Was she imagining the pulse of it?

Oh my God, this was actually mutual. He wasn’t thinking about any other woman, not Cookie, not Mary Alice. Just her. It was all that counted.

Her breasts now level with his face, he pulled her close and latched onto a nipple. He tugged with his teeth, then sucked. She’d never had sensitive nipples, but a jolt of electricity suddenly shot down between her legs. She held his head to her, absorbed the new sensation.

“Do me now, Bobbie, don’t make me wait. I’m ready to explode here.”

She could feel that. He wanted her. He really did. She tugged at his buckle, then reached for his zipper.

He pulled her hand away. “Better let me do that. Don’t want any accidents as this stage of the game.”

He eased the zipper down over that rock-hard bulge. He rose, then toed off his shoes, stomped his jeans and cotton briefs to his ankles. He kicked everything to one side and stood before her.

She stared at him in awe. “You’re beautiful.”

His penis jumped. She laughed. When had she ever had fun while making...having sex? For much of her marriage to Warren, sex had been an obstacle to overcome, crushing all the life out of it.

“Touch it.” A harsh whisper, pleading.

She wrapped her hand around his girth, just the tip peeking out from her fist. She leaned forward to run her tongue over the smooth, taut skin. He groaned and a droplet oozed from the head. She licked it, salty, tangy.

She’d never done that to Warren, just the perfunctory seeming almost more than they could mutually handle. Maybe she’d been scared, too, that it wouldn’t work, that she couldn’t bring him to orgasm with just her mouth. It had been hard enough to do that the regular way. Before they’d stopped trying altogether.

Nick buried his hands in her hair and pushed her head down. She opened her mouth, slid her hand to the base and took him inside until he touched the back of her throat.

Goodness. Could she rival Linda Lovelace?

Nick pumped, once, twice, then pulled out of her mouth.

Why did he stop? Doubt twisted her stomach. Maybe she wasn’t good enough to...

“I don’t think I can take too much of that, baby.”

Maybe she turned him on too much. She’d have given anything for it to be true. And she’d never been any man’s
baby
.

She looked up at him, his hands still in her hair, his face and eyes dark with...yes, oh yes, passion. For her.

“I started my pills on Sunday. They should work right away.” Her cheeks heated with the need to get the technical stuff out of the way.

He put his thumbs beneath her chin and tilted her head up. “Did you get them for me?”

She got them for herself. “Yes.”

“There’s been no one for a while, so I’m clean,” he said. “Lay down and let me in. God, I need to be inside you.”

That was the same as saying he needed her. No one had ever
needed
to be inside her.

Pulling the pillow beneath her head, she fell back against it. He slid her across the covers, then came down with one knee between her legs and spread her with one of those clever hands. Pleasure jolted through her as he swept a finger over the sensitive bud, then slid down and inside.

“Are you ready for me?”

“Maybe you should give me another five orgasms, just to make sure.”

“Once I’m inside,” he promised, then he put his hips between hers, pulled her knees up to his waist and thrust.

She screamed. And it wasn’t with the same pleasure as before.

“Christ, I’m sorry.”

She drew in a slow breath, tried to relax. “It’s been...well, a long time.”

“I thought you’d be ready.” He brushed his mouth across hers, a hint of her own essence still on his lips. “I’m sorry, baby.”