Текст книги "Nauti Seductress"

Автор книги: Lora Leigh

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

With that, Doogan moved to the front of the truck, stepped into the driver’s seat, and glanced at Zoey’s knowing expression.

“Finished threatening Eli?” She shifted in her seat to watch him directly. “Shame on you.”

He merely grunted at the amused chastisement. “He’ll survive it. Maybe,” he promised her, putting the vehicle in drive and heading for the gravel road that led to the clearing. “If he doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut by now, then he needs to learn.”

Eli would definitely survive his threats. If he didn’t follow his orders, though, he might not survive Doogan’s foot up his ass. Or Director Bryce’s anger. Zoey Mackay had become the boss’s new pet project and if Eli or Graham interfered, then there would be more hell to pay than either Graham or Eli might survive.

FOUR

She was crazy.

Insane.

She’d lost her ever-lovin’ mind, just as Eli had accused her as they rode home from the airfield two weeks ago.

Doogan was the biggest threat to her life, Eli had reminded her somberly. If Doogan learned Zoey was having nightmares about having murdered Harley, and he couldn’t find Harley Perdue, then he could arrest her. And if he did, all favor the Mackays had found with Homeland Security would go to hell. It would become a war. One her brother and cousins couldn’t hope to win, and she’d end up in prison.

Eli had watched her like a hawk for the past two weeks as well, as though expecting her to sneak out to meet his nemesis. It was amusing at times, exasperating at others. And the nightmares were becoming worse and more frequent. She wasn’t getting enough sleep and her temper was getting testy. And she couldn’t stop thinking about that damned kiss.

“Why are you in Somerset?” she asked as he pulled the truck into the back garage and came to a stop next to the motorcycles parked there.

She stared straight ahead into the darkened garage, uncertain if she even wanted to know why he was there.

“Does it matter why?”

She could feel his gaze on her¸ stroking over her profile, urging her to look at him.

“I don’t know if it matters or not,” she finally breathed out, rubbing at her arms, telling herself it didn’t matter why he was there.

“I don’t like what you’re doing to me, Zoey,” he said then, his voice dark, deep, the surprising statement pulling her gaze to him despite her best intentions not to face him.

He didn’t like what she was doing to him? At least he had a wealth of experience in understanding how to deal with the hunger. She had no idea how to deal with it. Or how to deny it.

“What am I doing?” She’d stayed away from him. She’d even stayed away from Graham and Lyrica’s when she’d learned he was there the week before. “How the hell am I bothering you?”

“Like this.” There was no warning. One second she was glaring at him, the next he’d wrapped his fingers around her braid and pulled her head back, and his lips were devouring hers.

It wasn’t an easy kiss. It sure as hell wasn’t an exploratory one. It was wet and wild, filled with carnality and driving lust. It was his hunger pulling hers free despite her best attempts to push it back. His tongue pumped between her lips, stroked over hers, and with his free arm he dragged her closer to him.

Zoey had no intention of fighting him. For the first time in far too long it wasn’t memories of nightmares or fears haunting her—it was reality. For the second time in her life all her senses were captured¸ engaged, reaching for the promise of even more pleasure than just this kiss.

“That’s what you’ve done to me.” He breathed heavily, his lips lifting from hers just enough to whisper the words over them with a savage growl. “Because I can’t get the taste of you out of my head and it’s driving me crazy.”

It was driving her crazy. It was invading even her nightmares. His voice, his hunger touching her, reaching out to her to drag her from the horror of murder and death and into a fantasy of pure, raw pleasure.

He tasted her lips again, sipping at them, parting them with his tongue to fill her mouth and fill her senses with the possession.

“Fuck.”

Before she’d had enough of the tempestuous pleasure, he pulled back from her, his hands rubbing over his face before they wrapped around the steering wheel and clenched it tight.

“Invite me up, Zoey,” he growled as she fought to catch her breath. “Invite me into your bed.”

“Doogan . . .”

“I’m not some kid who enjoys coming in his jeans,” he bit out. “I’ll give you all the foreplay you want, but by God, I won’t walk away hurting afterward. I’ll be inside you, and we’ll both be dying from the pleasure.”

“It’s not that simple.” She couldn’t think, couldn’t come up with an acceptable reason why she shouldn’t invite him up.

“It’s that damned simple,” he insisted harshly.

“For you, maybe,” she exclaimed, breathing in roughly. “It’s not that easy for me. I can’t afford to have you in my life.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” The edge of impatience in his tone was almost amusing. “How will having me in your life cost you anything?”

“What do I mean by that? You don’t want anything but a few nights of sex, Doogan. That’s just a little less than what I imagined my first lover would give me. Leaving is the best thing you could do for both of us. Because you’ll only hurt me, and I’ll never forgive you for it.” She didn’t wait for a response.

It wasn’t just his lack of commitment that would end up hurting her. It would be the actions he took if he was there to witness one of those damned nightmares.

Pushing from the truck, she slammed the door closed and rushed to the metal stairs leading to her apartment. Reaching the door into the second floor, she heard the truck start and a sob tore from her chest. Slamming the door behind her, she blinked back her tears, but there was no blinking back the hurt and aching need rushing through her body.

Two weeks. She’d spent two weeks trying to forget his kiss, and all she’d done was wonder how much better it could be. What his touch would be like, how his lips would feel at her nipples, between her thighs.

She needed him.

She’d just opened her bedroom door at the other end of the apartment when the door behind her slammed again. Twirling around, eyes widening, she watched as Doogan stalked up the dimly lit hall, his expression drawn and intent, lust gleaming in his dark eyes, filling his expression.

She wasn’t going to deny him now and she knew it.

She knew she couldn’t fight him, though she knew she should. If Dawg ever found out about this he’d go insane. Doogan was the scourge as far as the Mackays were concerned. To be avoided at all costs.

Avoiding this wasn’t happening.

He swept her against him, covering her lips with his, stealing any chance of a refusal. Stepping into her room, his tongue pushing past her lips as her bedroom door was slammed shut, the lock snicking into place.

It was crazy, it was insane. It would end up breaking her heart and possibly destroying her life. But if she could have just one night of pleasure rather than nightmares, just a few hours of memories to hold against the darkness, then she’d be okay. She would let him walk away and she promised herself she’d count her broken heart worth it.

Just one night.

“I tried to stay away from you,” he groaned, his lips sliding from hers to her neck when she wrapped her arms around his neck and melted into him. “For both of us, Zoey, I tried to stay away.”

And she’d promised Eli she’d stay away from Doogan. She’d meant to keep her word, but she’d known she couldn’t. Not if Doogan touched her again.

“Take that fuckin’ braid out of your hair,” he ordered, his voice hard, his lips wreaking havoc with her senses as he bent to her, his lips moving over her collarbone. “Do it, baby. Take it down. Let me see all those wild curls.”

Her arms lifted to her hair. Pulling the tie free of the leather ponytail grip, she let it fall to the floor. As she struggled to hold on to her senses enough to do as he ordered, her fingers fumbled, tangled several times in the curls springing free of restraint, but finally managed to release them.

She was lifting her fingers free of her hair when Doogan caught the hem of her shirt and whisked it up, clearing her head and arms before she could do more than gasp.

“God, save me,” he muttered, catching her wrists before she could lower them, securing them in one hand and holding them over her head. “Look how sweet. I’ve dreamed of tasting those hard little nipples.”

Zoey jerked against him, a surge of striking, exquisite pleasure erupting in the pit of her stomach and sending sensation to rush to her already swollen clit and slick sex.

With his free hand he released the front clip of her bra. As he brushed the lace cups aside, a rumbling groan left his throat, the sound stealing her breath and her strength.

Releasing her wrists, he brushed the straps of the bra from her shoulders and down her arms, leaving her naked from her hips up.

“If you’re going to throw me out, do it now,” he demanded. “Because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop later.”

He didn’t wait to let her think about it either. He eased her back the several steps needed before the bed pressed to the backs of her legs.

“Lie down for me, Zoey,” he urged her, his voice rougher, harder now. “Let’s get these boots off you.”

Zoey swallowed, a tight, nervous movement. Sitting down slowly, she let him ease her back until she was reclining on the bed. Staring up at him, in the dim light from the lamp she kept turned on across the room, she watched his shadowed features, watched the hunger growing in his gaze as he began releasing the buttons of his shirt.

“Touch your breasts for me.” The shocking demand had her eyes widening. “Come on, Zoey. I can see all that wild hunger inside you, dying to be free. Let me show you how to release it. Let me show you how to be wild for both of us. Our own little adventure.”

Their own adventure. And she did so love adventures.

Zoey licked her dry lips, her hands moving, cupping her breasts as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. The first touch of her fingers against the swollen flesh brought a smothered cry from her lips. It had never felt like that before. Her own touch had never brought such a rush of instant pleasure as it did while he watched her.

“See how much better it is.” His voice was low, grating as he removed his shirt. “Hotter, the pleasure stronger when you share it.”

It was. So much stronger, her senses becoming dazed with the rush of sensations building inside her now.

“What do you like?” Satisfaction filled his gaze, his expression. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me, Zoey. Let me see how you pleasure those pretty breasts. Do you touch your nipples easy? Or do you tighten your fingers on them to find that edge of pleasure and pain?” Sitting on the chair next to her bed, he dragged his boots free of his feet. “I bet you like the edge. I bet you love that little bit of fire streaking through the pleasure.”

She gripped her nipples, working them firmly, a helpless, mewling little moan spilling unbidden from her lips. She didn’t know if she could stand it. Sensations tore through her senses now, striking through her body, wrapping around the swollen bud between her thighs and clenching the untouched depths of her sex.

Rising from the chair, Doogan moved to her, bent, and unzipped her boots before pulling them from her feet. When he straightened, his hands settled on her denim-covered knees and stroked slowly, so slowly, from her knees to her thighs, his thumbs meeting at the apex and pressing firmly against the aching, engorged little kernel of her clit.

“Doogan.” As she arched sharply, her fingers tightened on her nipples, the rush of searing sensation washing through her senses and drowning them with pleasure.

“Oh, Zoey,” he breathed out, his lips lowering to her stomach, his tongue licking over her flesh. “It’s going to be so damned good.”

So damned good.

The metal tab and zipper of her jeans were released, the denim drawn down her thighs slowly before Doogan slid them completely off her legs, leaving her clad only in the white lacy panties she wore beneath them.

His gaze centered there.

“Hell,” he breathed out, his voice rough, his fingers catching the elastic band and removing them as well, leaving her naked to his gaze.

His fingers feathered over the bare flesh above her clit, his gaze darker, gleaming with such hunger her breath caught at the sight of it.

“How sweet,” he whispered, his gaze lifting to hers. “Do you know how much better it’s going to be with your flesh bare and unprotected against my touch, Zoey?” His lips quirked into a smile of satisfaction. “So fucking good you’ll scream with it.”

She couldn’t stand the excitement much longer.

The heated spill of slick moisture between her thighs, sensation tightening at her clit, torturous in the need filling it, drew a dazed moan from her lips.

When he caught her wrists and slowly drew her hands back from her breasts, a shock of painful need clenched at her womb, arching her hips.

One night, she reminded herself. She could have him. He’d be her first, and he’d hold her heart forever. But Zoey knew she couldn’t have more. Not yet. Not until she knew the truth of her nightmares.

But she could have tonight.

She could be daring, adventurous. She could have the fantasies, the pleasure, and the lover she chose the moment she saw him.

She could have Doogan.

–

Doogan was watching her eyes when he saw the explosion of color in them. The pale, pale green became surrounded by a ring of emerald fire, glowing like cats’ eyes as her expression became suffused with such sensual, feminine hunger that the sight of it had his cock pounding with the rush of lust shooting to his balls.

Hell, had he ever been so damned hot for a woman? A virgin at that. He’d never taken a virgin, never been the first to experience a woman’s pleasure. For a reason. He had no future to give them, he had no right to that first taste of them.

Until Zoey.

The very thought of another man claiming her innocence made him crazy. The tormenting knowledge that another man could bring her to orgasm, could feel her snug pussy gripping, milking his flesh as she came for him, enraged him.

He had nightmares of another man mounting her delicate little body and taking her. Dreams that brought him from sleep, so furious he could barely stand himself for hours afterward, tormented him.

He couldn’t sleep for the thought of it; he could barely work for it. She had become an obsession in the past year, one he had to exorcise. One he’d have to burn out of his system before he could go on with his life.

When she straightened, sitting proudly before him as he placed his knee on the bed to lower himself to her, Doogan stilled. The wild hunger that filled her expression held him spellbound, still and silent as he waited to see what she intended to do.

She didn’t make him wait long.

“Damn, Zoey.” His teeth snapped together as her lips pressed to his abdomen, parted, and let her teeth scrape over the taut muscles. Her fingers were slowly releasing the leather belt circling his hips as her hot little tongue met his navel, causing his hands to jerk to her hair and clench in the lush curls with a desperate grip.

What the hell was in her mind?

“Zoey, don’t . . .” God, she was so young, she had no idea—

Sharp little teeth nipped at his flesh in retaliation.

Her expression was determined, and so free of artifice. Lush, spiraling midnight curls surrounded her, flowing around her body like a living cape, giving her a preternatural appearance that had a dark dominance raging inside him.

Tightening his hand in her hair, Doogan drew her head back, tugging at the strands firmly.

The catch of her breath was a sound of shocked pleasure. The sound a woman makes at that first, conscious realization that the mix of pleasure and pain had the power to excite. Keeping that sharp pressure on her scalp, he stared down at her, trying to gauge the strength of the hunger he could see in her face.

“I could lay you back and make sweet love to your exquisite body for hours,” he warned her, making certain she understood what she was about to do. “But you go this route, I won’t be easy on you until you’ve finished me. Until you’ve taken every drop of my cum down that sweet throat. Do you understand me?”

“Did I ask you to go easy on me?” she breathed out, shocking him, her breathy voice racking his senses with need. “It’s my adventure too, isn’t it?”

Their adventure, and yes, it was hers too. If this was what she wanted, then he’d give it to her. And he’d love every damned second he was filling her mouth.

In seconds he had his belt loose, pants undone and tossed to the floor.

Wrapping his fingers around the heavy stalk of his engorged penis, he reached out, flipping the light on next to her bed and stared down at her.

He nearly came at the first clear sight of hungry innocence in her face.

He had no business with her, like this, and Doogan knew it.

Not with this act, where instinct warned him he couldn’t go easy on her.

“You asked for this, Zoey,” he reminded her, his entire body clenching as she licked her lips in anticipation. “If you want to stop, I’ll stop, at any time. But I won’t go easy while you have your mouth wrapped around my dick.”

Witchy eyes narrowed, the light green gleaming with challenge.

“Did I ask you to go easy?” she whispered breathlessly. “I could have sworn I didn’t. All I’m asking for is tonight. This one adventure.”

He moved to the bed, settling against the pillows, half sitting, half reclining on the bed. He waited then. Watching her closely. She would initiate this; he wouldn’t.

A siren’s smile curled her pouty lips. Sultry innocence, impish temptation filled her eyes, and a second later she moved between his thighs, kneeling before him.

He was almost holding his breath, anticipation burning through him.

The fingers of one hand threaded through her hair again, tightened in the strands, his breathing becoming harsh as her lashes fluttered at the little sting he created at her scalp.

“Slow and easy,” he ordered, the sound of his voice, deep and guttural, warning him of the line he was crossing. “Make it real good, baby.”

“Or what?” she whispered, the slumberous arousal and tempting hunger in her gaze making him crazy for her mouth.

“Or I won’t show you just how thin that line between pleasure and pain can get.”

Excitement flared in her gaze. Holding the shaft with one hand, Doogan pulled her head down to meet the broad, mushroomed crest slowly.

His self-control had never been so shaky and he knew it, even before he felt the touch of her shy, inquisitive little tongue licking over the thick crown.

“Ahh hell, Zoey.” His head fell back against the headboard, his hips jerking toward her, desperate to fill her mouth with his hard flesh.

How long he could maintain his control enough to allow her innocence to accustom itself to such an intimate act he didn’t know. Not for long was for damned sure. Because he had to watch.

Watch the innocence merge with the sensual, erotic thrill and dawning knowledge of exactly how good it could get. Whether she was doing him, or he was doing her, how fucking good it could be.

Instinct assured him Zoey was far more innocent than even her virginity implied, though. For all her bravado, her sweet mouth was as much virgin territory to a man’s cock as her pussy, and he knew it, sensed it.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged as her hand brushed his away to grip the base herself, her tongue licking, loving the throbbing head.

The wide, thick crest pulsed a bead of pre-cum, the droplet quickly caught by her eager little tongue as it swiped over the dark, sensitive crest.

Ropy veins pounded with blood; pleasure throbbed through the heavy shaft, swelling it further, harder. Delicate fingers had no hope of meeting as they caressed the iron-hard stalk, her tongue licking, playing. And he wanted nothing more than to watch, to feel those pouty lips stretching, reddening as the thick flesh pierced them.

“Look at me, witch. Open your eyes, let me see your pleasure,” he groaned as she tongued the sensitive undercrest with delicious little licks, fraying his already thin control. “Let me see your pretty eyes.”

Thick, long lashes lifted. Her pale green eyes, now ringed with the brilliant darker green at the outside of the iris, nearly did him in. Before he could cover her fingers with his own, showing her where to apply pressure to hold back his release, a pulse of semen spilled from the slit topping the crown to meet the heat of her tongue.

She stiffened; a breath later her mouth enclosed the throbbing crown with the sweetest, hottest pleasure he knew he’d ever experienced in his life. Just watching it, watching his brutally hard flesh stretch her lips, feeling her hot mouth close on him, was almost too much for his control.

As long as he’d been sexual, as many experienced women as had worked his dick over, he’d never felt such a blinding source of complete, white-hot sensation.

Her mouth moved over the throbbing head, her tongue tucking at that too-sensitive spot at the undercrest naturally, and she began to suck. Moving her lips over him, advance and retreat, the ring of emerald deepening at the outside of pale green.

“Fuckin’ witch,” he groaned, a hint of his Irish heritage slipping into his voice, his hands tightening in her hair, hips lifting to her, pushing the hard flesh deeper as he forced her fingers to apply the pressure needed to hold back the cum building in his balls. “That’s it, fuck me with those pretty lips, witch.”

The emerald ring brightened, the color like a thin ring of jewels, and she struggled for a second with the width of his flesh.

“Ah fuck . . . Zoey.” Her fingers played at the base of his shaft, the pressure easing, increasing as hunger began overtaking innocence, and she followed his lead, learning far too quickly how to make him crazy with her mouth.

Her lips and tongue were destroying him.

Tugging at her hair, giving her that little sting, he was rewarded by her mouth sinking lower, taking him deeper.

The sound of a low moan easing from her throat was almost a vibration at the crest. His balls tightened at the thought of taking her deeper, of piercing the tight confines of her throat, of teaching her how to give him a pleasure no other woman had ever been able to push past the lessons of previous lovers to learn.

He was the first to own her mouth. She had no preconceived blocks, no memories of overeager lovers trying to take too much too soon.

His balls tightened at the thought, drawn so close to the base of his shaft that it was torture.

And he had to hold back. Ah hell, nothing mattered but holding back and watching her eyes as he taught her how to destroy him with her hot little mouth.

As he tugged at her hair again, her mouth slipped lower again. He was desperate now, as talons of excessive carnal need dug into his testicles with a merciless grip.

With his free hand he found the curve of a breast, his fingers gripping the hard point of her nipple. Watching her eyes, seeing the growing excitement as she realized where he was headed, Doogan held her mouth in place and pressed his cock further over her tongue.

“Deeper,” he demanded, finding her nipple with his thumb and forefinger and exerting the lightest pressure.

The needy moan that slipped from her was all he needed.

Pulling back, watching her lips surround him, reddened and filled with his flesh, only deepened the hunger for more. To take more. To teach her the ultimate pleasure a woman could give a man with her mouth.

Pushing back inside, slow, feeling her mouth tighten, her tongue rubbing along the undercrest, dragged a groan from his chest.

“Take me deeper, baby. Can you do it, Zoey? Can you open that sweet throat enough to give me just a taste of it?” he dared her as her mouth tightened around the fiercely engorged crown. “Give me your throat, you little hellion. Swallow on my cock.”

He gave her the pressure she needed on her tight little nipple, rolling it in a heated grip, releasing it, tightening as he watched her eyes grow dazed.

Her lips eased further past the blunt width filling her mouth, slowly, taking him by increments as she felt her way through the act.

“Breathe in through your nose, deep.” It was all he could do to speak as she breathed in and he thrust deeper.

The heavy width of his cock head slipped to the entrance of that ultratight spot.

“Now swallow,” he groaned. “Damn me, baby, swallow on me,” he groaned.

She swallowed on the pressure, moaned, and sent racking shudders of violent pleasure ripping up his spine.

“Ahh fuck.” He pulled her head back, watching, holding her in place with the pressure on her hair, tugging, giving her a little burn as he let his fingers tighten on her nipple.

As he gave her the fire he thrust deep again, her mouth tightening, throat opening. She swallowed, moaned, that ring of color deepening around her iris, excitement blazing in her expression.

She was loving it. Moving on his cock, slow and easy, learning what she could take, what she couldn’t. And she was taking far more of him than the oversensitized flesh could bear.

Ah hell. He couldn’t take much more. His balls were so tight, so full of his cum he couldn’t bear it. When he released, it was going to be like touching death. Could he survive it? Would he recover from a pleasure that deep?

A harsh groan tore from him when her lips slid down again, his cock pushing in deeper . . . oh fuck, that little bit deeper . . .

“I’m going to cum, Zoey.” He had seconds. Only seconds. “And you’re going to take it,” he snarled, hips bunching, self-control disintegrating. “Every drop, Zoey. Oh God—every fucking drop . . .”

Her moan vibrated on him, the sound a rush of sharp, brutal pleasure.

He was dying.

He sank that little bit deeper. Just that little bit, enough that when she swallowed and moaned, he lost his senses. Lost all control.

“That’s it. Fuck, Zoey. That’s it. Take me.” He pulled back, thrust past her lips, watched her eyes, and fucked straight to that hungry throat again. Again.

Doogan watched that color of her eyes glow, her long drawn-out little moan sinking into the head of his dick, and he lost it.

“All of it,” he rasped, the brutal sensations racking his body before shattering with such brilliant pleasure it tore through his senses.

Flames danced over his balls when she released the pressure at the base of his shaft. Lightning ripped up his spine. His cum shot from the throbbing, engorged head and she swallowed.

“God, yes. Swallow on me, baby . . . ah hell . . .” Swallowing, her tight little throat clenching on the end of his cock head, rippling over it, pulling another brutal pulse of semen to her throat.

Fucking moaned . . .

“Ah hell. Ah, Zoey. Sweet, sweet fucking mouth,” he rasped, pulse after pulse of his semen spilling to her, his release so deep, so deep, so fucking sweet—and she was shuddering, racking tremors racing over her, shocking him as her cry pulsed around his cock and had the next jetting explosion of cum shooting from him with a violence that dragged a groan of pure agonized pleasure from his lips.

He had never, at any time, had a woman find her release from excitement alone, her orgasm rippling through her from the act of giving him such pleasure. Never had a woman taken him with a natural desire to give rather than take, to pleasure him and to find her pleasure while doing it.

Until Zoey.

Until she destroyed him with her hot little mouth and he was afraid, branded his senses in ways he’d never be free of. In ways he’d have to force himself free of when his job in Somerset was finished.

When the last agonized pulse of semen spilled to her greedy mouth, Doogan drew her head back, watching as she straightened before him, dazed, existing on instinct alone. His jaw clenched when she slid her fingers down her belly, moving for the swollen bud between her thighs. To finish finding her pleasure. To ease the pressure no doubt racking her swollen little clit.

“Oh hell no.” He caught her wrist, drawing it from her body.

“Doogan, I have to.” She tried again. “It wasn’t enough. I need . . .”

His fingers tightened on her wrist. “I could tie you to the bed if that’s what it takes.”

Heat flushed from her breasts to her hairline. Her eyes widened and pure, raw hunger spiked her dazed eyes.

“Oh, Zoey, baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You have no idea how good it can get . . .”