Werewolf in Las Vegas (14 page)

“I'm afraid to look.”

“You should see this. I've turned your breasts into truffles.”

Her lashes fluttered up and she raised her head again. “You are making an unholy mess.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you're not turned on by it.”

She met his gaze, and heat flashed in her eyes. “I'm not turned on by it.”

“Your eyes say different.” He massaged the chocolate into her breasts with slow, erotic strokes and watched the flame leap in those emerald depths. “Your nipples are all tight and happy.”

“Of course they are. You're rubbing them.”

“And you like it.”

“I would like it without the chocolate.”

“So would I, but this is more fun.” Sliding his hand between her breasts, he returned to the remaining cake and began spreading that over her stomach and down the tops of her thighs.

“You're insane.”

“Right at this moment, yes, I am. And getting more so by the second.” He covered her knees and her shins and finally reached her toes. “Now,
this
is what I've been waiting for.” He had enough mousse on his hand to work it between her toes with their sexy apricot toenail polish. “Remember walking through the mud in your bare feet?”

She braced herself on her elbows. “Luke, do you have a foot fetish?”

“Not yet.” Now that he'd distributed the chocolate mousse cake fairly evenly over her body, he was ready to work his way back up. “But I might before this is over. You have extremely sexy toes.”

“You've put chocolate all over them.”

“The better to suck them clean, my dear.” Scooting to the end of the bed, he wiped his chocolate-covered hand on the sheet. So it was done. He'd officially christened the sheet. If she thought he'd made a mess before, wait until he really got into it.

Now that he'd spread the chocolate all over her, he knew exactly how to proceed. Cradling one foot in both hands, he carefully sucked and cleaned each of her toes.

He found it arousing as hell, but he couldn't tell if she felt that way. Not at first. Then he heard little noises coming from the other end of the bed. As he turned his attention to her other foot and began licking between her toes, he realized she was whimpering.

He paused. “Are you all right?”

Her reply was slightly breathless. “Uh-huh.”

“You're sure?”

“Okay, I'm admitting it. That feels amazing. I had no idea my feet were so sensitive. You're . . . Luke, you're getting me really hot.”

“Good to know.” He continued to lick and suck her toes.

“I mean
really
hot.”

“I'm glad.” He started working his way up her leg.

“Luke . . .” She was breathing pretty fast. “I can't wait.”

“I still have a lot of chocolate to go.”

“Um, slippery and sticky might be fun.”

That jacked up his heart rate considerably. “Is that you talking? The neat freak?”

“Yeah.” She moaned softly. “I need you. All of you, sliding over my chocolate-covered body.”

Lust surged, hot and heavy. “Alrighty, then.” He'd planned to lick most of the chocolate off before moving to the next phase, but then again, why do that? Why not see how it felt to make love to a woman covered in chocolate?

With a groan of surrender, he changed position. His knees picked up some chocolate as he moved between her thighs. Holding her gaze, he thrust deep . . . and nearly came. She felt good, too good.

She raised her hips and wrapped her legs around his. He could feel the slippery chocolate against his thighs, and once again, he almost lost it. He tried to speak, to tell her to take it easy, but the words stuck in his throat.

He didn't want to take it easy, anyway. He wanted to abandon himself to this chocolate-covered experience and hope that he didn't embarrass himself by coming immediately. Lowering himself to his elbows, he drew back, and as he slid forward, he rubbed his chest against hers.

The sensation of slippery mousse and the friction of cake combined into an erotic banquet. He swore softly and clenched the muscles of his jaw. It would be so easy to—

“I'm going to come.” Her breathy announcement was followed by a high, keening cry as she arched her back.

Luke absorbed her contractions and fought to keep his own at bay. Something this mind-bending was meant to last, and he would last, by God. They were going to enjoy this together, every chocolate-smeared minute of it.

Giselle sank back to the mattress and gazed in wonder at the man braced above her. One easy stroke had touched off a climax that left her limp and gasping. She struggled for air. “How . . . did you do that?”

“I think you did that. And you damned near took me with you.”

“But you held back.” She raised unsteady hands to his chest, where wide streaks of chocolate marked him like war paint and bits of cake clung to his dark blond chest hair.

“After debating the ruined sheet issue for so long, I didn't want the fun to be over too quick.” He sounded as if the effort had cost him, though. The fight for control had left him short of breath, which made the mousse and the cake on his chest quiver.

She ran a finger over a smear of chocolate. “Is it good?”

“The sex is great. And the chocolate's not bad, either.”

Smiling up at him, she licked her finger. “The chocolate
is
good. And I don't care about the sheets anymore.”

“Glad to hear it, because we're changing positions. Hang on.” With that, he quickly rolled over, bringing her with him. Somehow he managed to keep them connected.

She yelped in surprise. Then she wiggled, trying to settle herself more securely in her new position.

His arms tightened around her. “Don't move for a second.” Beneath her, his chest heaved. “Let me get my mojo back.”

“Luke, if you want to come, it's—”

“Oh, I want to, honeybunch. I want to desperately. But I also want to lick all that chocolate off your beautiful breasts, and I need to do that before I come or the shower will get the thrill of it. That would be a crying shame.”

Imagining him licking and sucking had a predictable effect on her. She accidentally gave his cock a little squeeze with her muscles, and he inhaled sharply. Deep inside her, she felt him twitch.

“Stay still,” he murmured. Then he let out his breath. “Okay. I'm good.”

“You sure are.” She was impressed. Most males she'd known would have given up the fight long ago, but obviously when Luke wanted something, he focused on it until he got it.

His chuckle was part groan. “I didn't mean it like that. I don't go around bragging on my bedroom skills.”

“Maybe you should. Wait—I take that back. You probably already have females chasing after you. You don't need more.”

“At the moment, I need only one.” He stroked both hands down her back and cupped her backside. “I'm going to hold you still right here. No moving in that area just yet. But I want you to lift those truffles so I can taste them.”

“You really are bossy.”

“I told you. This is my turn. There's another whole piece of cake left.”

“I wonder if you'll be up for it, pun intended.”

“You let me worry about that. Now, lift up.”

“Nag, nag, nag.” Bracing her hands on either side of his shoulders, she started to push herself up and met resistance. “We're stuck together.”

“Are we, now? Let's see what I can do.” Drawing in a breath, he slipped his hand between her stomach and his. Then he gently worked his hand up between them, pausing to caress her along the way.

She became so turned on by his touch that she forgot his instructions. Instinctively, her hips rocked.

“Nope.” He pulled his hand out and clamped it over her fanny again. “Not yet, my sexy woman.” Then he squeezed and rubbed her there. “Now you have chocolate spread over your cheeks, too. I might have to find a way to lick that off.”

“Sounds good to me.” She was ready for anything with this guy.

“Ah, Giselle, you do turn me on, lady. Now, see if you can lift up.”

“Okay.” Moisture from their bodies had mingled with the chocolate so they were now more slippery than sticky. She braced herself with her hands on either side of his shoulders and glanced down at him. “How's that?”

Heat glowed in his blue eyes. “Almost perfect. Can you put another pillow behind my head?”

“Sure. Lean forward.” As she balanced one-handed and grabbed a pillow, his warm mouth closed over her nipple. She gasped. “You'll make me fall!”

He sucked once and released her with a soft laugh. “I couldn't resist. I mean, you were right there.”

“I think that was the idea.” Reaction to his liquid caress hummed through her. She shoved the pillow behind his head and flattened her palm against the mattress again. She ignored the streaks of chocolate that now appeared everywhere on the snowy linen.

Then she looked at Luke and noticed he had chocolate on his mouth. “I can't resist this, either.” She dipped her head and kissed those wicked lips. He tasted of chocolate and passion, a passion greater than she'd found with anyone.

He moaned and thrust his tongue deep as he pressed his fingertips hard against her backside. If he hadn't, she would have moved against him. Her body ached for the chance to do that. Even without moving, she felt her climax build just from the sensuality of their kiss.

Pulling back, she looked into his eyes.

He looked right back, his gaze almost fierce in its intensity. “I feel . . .” He paused and cleared his throat. “I feel like I've been struck by lightning.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“We said this was temporary, but—”

“Shh.” She pressed her mouth to his and drew back. “Not now.”

“But I—”

“Enjoy your truffles.” Leaning forward, she offered herself shamelessly. This she could give him. The other, what she was very afraid he was about to ask, she could not.

•   •   •

As a distraction, Giselle's chocolate-covered breasts worked like a charm. Luke abandoned his long-term goal of talking about their future for short-term pleasure, insanely good short-term pleasure. He would love sucking on her breasts no matter what, but having chocolate all over them gave him an excuse to be extremely thorough.

He loved knowing that he was making her crazy, too. She began her whimpering routine, which he knew was a prelude to getting serious about a climax. And so was he. Dear God, but he was proud of himself for holding off so long.

“I need to move.” She tried to free herself from his grip on her firm backside. “
You
need to have me move.” She sucked in a breath. “You must be ready to explode. I am.”

She had that right. With one last tug on her sweet nipple, he leaned back. “Done. You're all clean.”

She glanced down and then looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“Mostly clean.”

“Good enough.” Her voice was husky. “Going to turn me loose now?”

“Yeah. Be gentle.”

“Gentle? Really?”

“Just kidding. Ride me, lady. It shouldn't be a very long ride, but make it good.”

“You've got it.” She flattened her palms against his chest. “You're still very sticky.”

“You can work on that later. For now . . .” He loosened his hold on her fanny. “Work that.” He groaned as she eased slowly upward. “Work it hard.”

“Don't worry. I plan to.” She came down on him much faster than she'd gone up.

Everything after that was a blur of Giselle pumping him for all she was worth. Her breasts shook with every downward slap of her body on his. They both made noise, lots of it, as they surged toward the finish line.

He figured he might cross it first. The pressure felt like a bomb was about to detonate. “Can't hold on,” he whispered as he felt his control slipping.

“Go for it.” She pumped harder and threw back her head. “I'm right there. Right
there.
”

“Ah . . . Giselle . . .
Giselle . . .
” He drove upward once more and came so hard it took his breath away. Blind and deaf to anything but the pounding in his groin, he couldn't even yell. But inside he was shouting his amazement and wonder. Good, so good, so damn good!

Her spasms rippled over his pulsing cock and seemed to gently squeeze out every last drop, as if she wanted all he could give her. She'd completely spoiled him. Sex without a condom was awesome.

Her breathing slowed, and she eased down onto his sticky chest. “Excellent.” She said it with such a deep sigh.

He smiled and stroked her back. “You were excellent. You were great. You were—”

“An unexpected surprise.” She lifted her head and propped her chin on her fist so she could look him in the eye. “I never planned for this to happen.”

“I know you didn't, and I'm grateful.” He rubbed circles in the small of her back. He was still fairly hard, and he didn't want to move and break the connection. Lying here with her was nice. Sticky, but nice.

“It was pretty wonderful.”

“And although I won't harp on the subject, you gave me a gift by letting me in without one of those little raincoats. I was told from the time I hit puberty that I had to wear one until I had a steady girlfriend.”

“Did you ever?”

“No.” He ran his hand over the delicious curve of her backside. “But I was the heir to the Dalton fortune, and that made me an extremely eligible bachelor, or maybe just a baby-daddy candidate with money to shower on a pregnant girlfriend. So I played it safe and wore condoms rather than risk accidentally fathering a kid.”

“You're a very responsible man, Luke Dalton.”

“Raised that way.”

“I apologize for carrying on about the sheets. I should have figured it out. My brother was raised to shoulder the responsibility in my family, and so he blew off steam playing practical jokes.”

“And taking off for Vegas.” Knowing that he and Giselle's brother had much in common made him curious. “You said it was a bunch of things piling up that made him bolt, but usually there's one straw that breaks the camel's back.”

“I'm sure that's true, and I think I know the straw, but he didn't confide in me before he left.”

“What do you think it was?”

“He'd chosen a mate . . . I mean, a marriage partner.”

“Mate isn't such a bad word to use.” He brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek. “Sort of old-fashioned, but I like it. It implies more permanence. Like the term
soul mate
.” And when he said that, the most amazing thing happened. Her green eyes became almost luminescent, as if he'd touched a chord in her. “Do you believe in soul mates?” he asked softly. Until this very moment, he hadn't given the matter much thought.

“I . . . suppose I do.”

“How do you think it works, this soul mate thing? Do you just meet someone and know right away?”

“Maybe.” Her gaze searched his. “Or maybe it takes time to figure it out.”

“Since you're single, I have to assume you haven't met yours.” He was more interested in her answer than he wanted to admit.

“No, I haven't.”

The certainty in her voice bothered him. Now that the subject had come up, he had to wonder if their instant attraction was a sign that they were meant for each other. He was willing to entertain the possibility. But apparently she wasn't thinking that way. That was kind of depressing.

Maybe he'd better get back to discussing her brother and stop imagining that she viewed their attraction with the same starstruck wonder that he did. “Has your brother found his? Because if he has, I hope he didn't run out on her.”

Giselle sighed. “That's why I'm a little confused on the soul mate issue. I thought he and Miranda were soul mates. He acted as if they were. But then it became all about the ceremony, and the two mothers started pushing for dates and details. I think that's why Bryce took off. It turned into this whole big thing—the joining of the two families, the expectation of children, what house they would buy—and he just blew.”

The expectation of children.
Was that why she couldn't take over as CEO? Did her family have some traditional idea that the head of the business had to procreate, and she was unable to have kids? If so, that was bullshit. He longed to ask her more about that, but now wasn't the time.

His dad had expected him to marry and have kids, preferably a son who could be trained to take over from Luke the way Luke had been raised to take over from Angus. Angus Dalton hadn't been very evolved in that respect. If Giselle thought Luke was a throwback, she should have met his dad.

“So your brother dumped Miranda, who may or may not have been his soul mate.” Luke was relieved that Cynthia hadn't decided Bryce was her soul mate. He wanted her to have more time to explore all sorts of possibilities before committing herself to one man.

“He dumped her,” Giselle said. “And she's done with him.”

“Don't blame her.”

“Me, either.” She grimaced, and he could tell the conversation had broken the mood for her. “We should probably each check our phones and see if they've texted us.”

“And what if they have? What if Cynthia's sent me another riddle? Are we going to get dressed and tear around Vegas in the wee small hours of the morning so that your brother can find another way to douse me with water?”

“I see your point. That is getting old.”

“Personally, I'd rather choose my own method of getting wet.”

She smiled. “I checked out your shower before you came back up here.”

“Then you're aware that I have multiple jets in there.”

Her smile widened. “I am.”

“Do you like the idea of multiple jets?”

“I love it.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” He climbed out of their chocolate-smeared bed and held out his hand to help her.

Giselle was one hell of a playmate. The more he thought about taking her into that shower, the more he liked the concept. He'd fantasized about having shower sex with a woman, but other than doing it orally, he'd never been able to because of the need for the damned condoms.

But now, for as long as she was willing to hang around, he had Giselle, a woman who didn't need no stinkin' condoms. He would be a fool if he didn't find all sorts of creative ways to enjoy that freedom. Once she was gone, and it sounded as if she would go, he'd be back to the little raincoats.