Page 65 of Silver-Tongued Devil
“Well, now, baby, I’d say you just about did. And I tell you what.” He kissed his way around to her neck and sank his teeth into her skin until she moaned, then murmured in her ear, “How about this? You grab onto that headboard and hold on for me.”
A surge of heat like molten liquid. “What?”
“You heard me. Go on and do it.”
Slowly, she reached overhead, her hands closing over the top of the padded leather headboard.
Blake sighed. “Now, that’s better. You hold on, darlin’. Because I’m going to love you.”
And then he did. She might not be a patient woman, but Blake was a very, very patient man. He moved down her body, kissing his way, and finally, he settled in.
Except he didn’t. He teased her, and he tormented her. He sped up, and he slowed down. He got her hips pumping, her body rocking, and then he shifted his focus. Again and again, until she was panting. Until she was begging.
“Blake,” she moaned. “Please. Please. Let me…”
“Almost,” he said. “Not quite yet.” He was shoving something under her hips. A pillow, and that was good. That was better. His fingers were inside her, beginning to press, and she was rocking against them. Then he took them out, and she cried out in protest again. His hands were on the backs of her thighs, shoving them up high, all the way until her knees hit the bed.
That was when he set his mouth to her for real, and shoved her straight up the mountain and over the edge. Her hands were gripping the edge of the headboard, his hands were hard on the backs of her thighs, her legs were caught, and she was wailing. Screaming. And he didn’t stop. He kept on, and she was going over again, harder this time. Again and again, until she was shaking. Until all she could do was moan.
When he let go of her legs at last, they were trembling so badly, she almost couldn’t put them down. She let go of the headboard, and instantly, his hands were over hers, putting them back in place.
“No,” he said, not sounding steady at all. “Don’t. Hang on. Please. Hang on for me.”
He was grabbing the packet, putting the condom on. And she was watching him. There was no way she couldn’t.
Oh, my God. He wasbig.His hands and feet hadn’t lied one bit.
Her breath was coming in panting gasps, her hands shaking on the headboard. And when his hands went back to her thighs and he shoved her legs up again… she let him do it.
He entered her in one hard thrust, and she cried out at the sudden stretch, the shock of it. He stopped, holding himself rigid over her. “Hurts?”
“No. Don’t stop. Please, Blake.” If he teased again, she couldn’t stand it. “Please. Go.”
A hard thrust, a slow withdrawal. His hands holding her legs, his face so intent over her, his eyes glowing golden. Finding the same spot he’d found with his fingers, the place she hadn’t realized you could really touch. Winding her up higher, until she was making noise again, until his harsh breaths filled her ears. Higher and higher, and not quite there, and she needed more. She needed… she needed…
He stopped. He let her legs go and pulled out of her, and she opened her eyes in dismay. That was all? She’d been soclose.
“Turn over,” he said. “Hands and knees. Oh, God, Dakota. Turn over.”
The dark fire leaped inside her, and she did it. She turned over, and he entered her again, and now, there was nothing slow about it. Hard and fast, taking her over, and his hand was on her, stroking.
No escape. Nowhere to go but here, nothing to feel but this. Her head was down, her hair in her face, and she was on her elbows now, her face buried in her hands, all of her reduced to him inside her, to his hand on her. To the need that was pulling her up, twisting her tight. She was biting her hand, and all she could hear was Blake’s breath. And he was making some noise, too. She heard it, but dimly, because the concentric circles of pleasure were closing in on her, focusing more and more, and then the waves began to hit.
He seemed to have grown inside her, and he was gasping now, both his hands going to her hips, his fingers digging in, pulling her back into him as if he couldn’t get close enough.
More and more. Deeper and harder, until he was groaning out her name, jerking against her, yanking her back so hard. And she knew he was as lost as she was. He was all the way gone.
Blake got rid of the condom as fast as he could, hating that he had to move at all. Dakota hadn’t, or barely. She was still on her knees, her face buried in her hands, and he felt a sickening lurch of fear straight to the gut.
He moved over her again, propping himself on an elbow, pulling her hair back from her face with a hand that insisted on shaking. Maybe from one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced, and maybe from something else.
“Hey, baby.” He kissed her cheek, then rolled her with him so she was on her side and he was wrapped around her. “How about talking to me? You all right? Was I too rough?”
Idiot,he was yelling at himself.Insensitive jerk.She’d told him about one of the most horrific things that could happen to a woman, and what had he done? Had he laid her down and loved her with the kind of tenderness she needed, the kind she deserved? Not hardly. He’d started out OK. But after that? He’d gotten carried away.
She rolled over to face him, and he put a hand out and stroked it over her shoulder, her arm. Smooth as silk, warm as honey. But her eyes were huge, her face somber, and his heart was going a mile a minute.
And then she smiled. Slow, with a teasing edge to it. “You’re going to do all that to me, and then make metalk?Next time, boy, it’s going to be happening to you. You see if you can talk tomeafter you lose that many brain cells.”
