The Risqué Target (23 page)

She'd entered the devil's lair of her own free will, and she was going to give him, if only for one night, what he wanted. She knocked back her inhibitions and said goodbye to her secret insecurities about her fairly flat chest and awkward, long, gangly legs. Her fingers pinched the hem of her shirt. She was thankful she worn the silk panties she'd found in the bottom of her bag. She pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor.

Unresponsive to her boldness, he rolled his gaze down every inch of her naked insecurity. “When I saw you today, I imagined this.” His eyes finally came back to meet hers, and an urgent heat flared into them that scorched her. “Finally seeing what was beneath your clothes. I told you the truth, Nala. All those times I changed you, I never looked at your body.” Another sweep of his eyes bathed her natural state, unhinging her humiliation. “And you've definitely rewarded my wait. You're beautiful,” he said.

The vital compulsion in the thick of his voice shred her vulnerability, flaying it from every inch of her.

Those brazen words, spoken severely yet not coldly, were a part of him she hadn’t seen before. She ached even more for him. Her fears melted and met with the shreds of her vulnerability.

He tilted his head. “Come over here.”

The husky whisper sent splinters of anticipation down her back and straight to her feet, forcing them to move.

His fixed gaze pulled her like strong hands, closer and closer until she stood before him. “Tell me,” he said, raising a finger to her neck, “do you like it when I touch you, your breasts?”

Before she could stutter a word, his finger started to trail down. She followed it, and her chest propelled toward it.

“Do you like them sucked too?” he asked, the question jam-packed with playful badgering.

His touch sizzled toward the cleft of her swollen, hard, heaving mounds. Breathing heavier, she desperately wanted him to touch her there, but he didn’t. He slid his finger beneath the perky flesh, along her side, down her stomach, torturing her, teasing her.

“How about pinched?” he badgered audaciously.

Slowly, he reached her breast and began to circle her aching swell. Thunderstruck, she vaulted, imploring for what he asked.

“I can't hear you,” he taunted, his teasing eyes searching hers for an answer.

Speechless, amazed by his bold and effective words and his slow, evocative touch, she watched him skim tantalizingly over her nipples.

He caught her bud between his fingers and squeezed. “How about my teeth? You like that, don't you?” He squeezed harder. “Nibbling, biting these little tips?”

Elated, unable to contain her response to his words, envisioning them in her head, she moaned.

His hands clasped her around the waist. With ease, he lifted her from her feet. “Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered, and she obediently complied.

Her back hit the high bedpost. She reached out and grabbed his shoulders. He thrust her hips up and then down, grinding into her. His erection slid past and against her wet panties, and she let out a little cry from the wonderful feel of his power.

His hand came up to apprehend her breast, molding her. He fervently kneaded and stroked her throbbing mound. She gasped when his mouth struck her neck, feeding greedily on her naked flesh. Goosebumps erupted from the heated moisture that lingered behind each kiss, making a path down between her breasts, inching close to the still tingling warm heap in his hand. Glancing up at her, he held her gaze and lowered his head toward her beseeching nipple. And that was when the panting started.

With his lips soaring over her beaded bud he asked, “You want this?” He lightly chaffed her. “Or this?” He drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked.

Holy shit!
She almost came right there.

He pulled back, never leaving off his watch on her. The side of his mouth kicked up, and with the sexiest of grins, he asked, “You want it all, don’t you?”

Of course she did, but she realized he wanted to hear it. Her hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck, and she gave to him what he wanted. “Yes,” she said, the heavy air burning her throat. She pulled him to her. “I want it all,” and he delivered what she'd wanted, wetting and sucking her.

She bucked against him, and his head came up, seizing her mouth with his. Lips locked, tongues lashing, he laid her on the bed. As he loomed over her, her heart quickened. His fingers curled around her panties. In one swift movement, he pulled them from her body and positioned himself alongside her.

“Now, sweetheart, I'm going to take away your control. I'm going to make you cum,” he said, assurance lacing his eyes.

“We'll see about that.” She didn’t know why, but she challenged his declaration. Maybe she couldn’t surrender any more than he could. She wasn’t sure if it was the deliberate smile on his face, the cunning gleam in his gaze, or the feel of his hand running down toward her leg, but she sensed this was a battle she might lose. He wouldn’t let it end until he won.

The arrogant grin stayed. “We're going to do more than see.” The palm of his hand reached her inner thigh, and he gave it a few pats. “Open up for me,” he said.

She hadn’t told them to, but her wobbling legs loosened.

“How am I going to get in there, get to all that sweetness. Open them more.” He roped her in, and her legs fell back.

A single finger slid along her pelvic bone, over her curls, down to the damp, needy place between her trembling thighs. It passed her hidden flesh and then came back up over it. Her eyes widened. She began to sit up from the shock of the instant perilous pleasure, but he pushed her back down. “Relax. Just because it's not
your
finger doing it….” He stroked her a few more times. “It’s okay,” he said gently, but with total authority.

She obeyed his instruction and settled onto the bed, not taking her eyes from him. He was so sexy, so damn in control. It was maddening but hot.

“I can simply rub you here, as I know you do while you're alone, but, sweetheart, the reason why you never feel completely satisfied is because you want more. You need all your senses heightened, not just your clit.” He galvanized his sweeping finger. “So, I'm going to talk to you a little, work on your sense of hearing,” he said.

Hasn't he been doing that already? Toying with me, asking about my breasts.
The thought of his mouth on them fired her up, but the actual feel of it was ten times better. It had already been a torment, so she wondered what to expect from that wicked mouth now. He was handsome, seductive, and, when he wanted to be, charming. She felt herself falling for him all over again.

He absorbed her no-doubt saucy stare, but no smile appeared on his face. He looked back at her with desire. “My cock is so hard for you. It's taking everything in me not to slide myself up and through all this wetness.” He plunged his finger deep inside of her. “And that's what you want, isn't it?” His finger grated her insides. Then he withdrew, thrust back in and then out, each time more forceful than the last.

She sucked in a startled breath. If he kept talking like that, she knew she would combust or faint from his explicit words, from the imagination of it. She wanted to jump from the bed, scream, and thrash. She wanted to yell at the top of her lungs,
“Take me now!”
The strange emotions, the overwhelming feelings swarming through her, frightened but enticed her. No man had ever turned her on like that before. None had even come close.

“I can't hear you, Nala.” He pushed farther into her, holding his finger there, flicking her insides. “Is that what you want?”

Beyond panting, she tossed her head back, reveled in the erotic caress. She gasped. “Yes. Oh yes!”

“Yes? You're ready to give up your control?”

Her head snapped up, and she peered up at him. “No!”
Not yet. Please not yet!

His eyebrow rose, and she knew something dangerous was coming. His finger slipped out of her, and he slithered between her legs. His head started to lower. “Always needing some persuasion, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

His mouth was about to disappear between her trembling legs, closer to her inner thighs, and she knew right then she was done.

“Perhaps my mouth on your clit, licking and sucking, and….” He didn’t finish, and she felt his mouth on her before his lips actually made it to his intended location. His hot tongue darted to her sensitive nub, slightly coarse but ever so pleasing, and it lashed repeatedly. Her hips lifted, impatient for more, and he didn’t let her down. He encased her crucial point with his proficient lips and started to keenly suck. He filled her with his finger, and her body jolted up. She fisted his hair in her hands.

“Oh, yes!” she moaned, tugging him closer to her while he lapped her up.

“You taste so fucking good. I want to lick every inch of you. But I think it's time, sweetheart.” He shifted up in the bed, leaving his finger deep inside her.

“No. I-I can't.” She still had some fight left in her.

A rich, a throaty chuckle erupted from him. “Yes, you can.” His finger slid from inside her, and he went back to stroking her clit. “You can, and you want to.”

Her eyes rolled back, and breathing began to hurt. The ache in her core was ready to explode. “I don't want it to stop.” She shook her head. “I can't. I-I won't.”

“Yes, you will. Remember what I said. I'm going to take you over and over again.” His words were filled with promise. “Don't you want me inside you?”

She couldn’t tell if the question was asked seriously or mischievously. She was too intoxicated. “Yes,” she confessed, his touch becoming unbearable, more powerful, taking her to heights she’d never felt before.

This time he drove two fingers inside her. “Then cum for me, Nala. Let me hear you cry out in pleasure.” He picked up the speed of each delivered thrust. “Let go. Do it for me. God, I'm so fucking hard. Let me mount you and….”

The picture of his body on top of hers, the very thought of having all of him, the unknowing of what it would feel like crept into her core and busted her control wide open. In a rush of anticipation, the white-hot liquid spilled into her womanly center and flowed from her. “Oh yes!” she called out, hoarsely weeping with each pulsating shock. Her hand shot to his arm. She clenched her fingers around his strong biceps as each wave whipped through her. “I want you,” she said, digging her nails into him. “Yes! I… oh my God! Oh my…” She shuddered as the unbelievable sensation endlessly soared. Her legs kicked, her feet pressing into the bed, and her body writhed from the absolute orgasm. She didn’t want it to end, but she felt it start to subside. She shifted her eyes his way.

Propped up on an elbow, Tantum was watching her, and he looked pleased. He looked interested. But most of all, he looked perfect.

She wanted to stroke his tight, hot body, and before she knew it, she was. Her hand cupped the side of his face. Slightly tilting his head, he kissed her palm, and she just about melted again from the look in his starving eyes. His neck was smooth, his pulse fast. She spread her fingers over his hunky chest. His eyes following her every movement, she stopped and flashed him a bashful smile.

His head nodded once. Sinfully, he grinned. “Keep going.” Deep and daring, his voice gave her a pushy but needed hand.

Flat stomach, the start of his pants, the freaking wetness, that sexual craving started to stir inside her.
What the hell? Already? So soon?

“Farther,” he coaxed, his words the spoon to that craving.

She slipped her hand down past the material, but she didn’t need to go far. The tip of his head was waiting, stiff and swollen with pride and anticipation. She thumbed the wetness at the tip, wrapped her fingers around the girth of him, and glided down.

This time, it was he who groaned. “Your hand…. Oh, sweetheart, I've been thinking about it since earlier today.” He cringed, his face tense, and he appeared to be in pain. “Oh yeah, that's it, sweetheart, stroke it,” he said, every muscle in his body hard and flexed.

It was her turn to ask the questions. “Like this?” She lightly came up the length of him and then back down. “Or like this, baby?” She tightened her hold. The blood formed a thick cord of strength, and she stroked the sheath of flesh covering it, admiring all that power. She stroked it a tad harder, quicker.

Not offering her a chance to finish her job, he kissed her. His hands palmed her face, and he deepened the kiss. The weight of his body shifted on top of her. Sturdy hands moved to her neck, lowered to her breasts, and stroked her heated flesh. “This time I want you to cum with me,” he said, and she felt the tip of his head ease slightly into her opening.