Текст книги "Nauti Temptress"
Автор книги: Lora Leigh
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
TEN
Brogan stared around the bedroom, making a mental note to himself to thank Timothy for everything he’d managed to arrange in a few short hours.
If the DHS agent survived his little chat with Dawg, that was.
The bedroom was exactly as he had requested.
The huge custom-made, larger than a king-and-a-half bed was surrounded by ivory netting that hung from the ceiling and draped around the thick, ultracomfortable mattress situated on the platform beneath it.
Candles by the dozen, from thick pillars to slender tapers and everything in between, were positioned around the large room. The property’s caretaker had slipped in and lit them just before Brogan and Eve arrived.
The hot tub just outside the glass patio doors steamed invitingly, while candles were positioned around the deck that surrounded it, flickering with warmth.
Opening Eve’s overnight bag he’d had Piper pack for him, he grinned as he pulled free the white lace-and-chiffon gown he knew would fall to Eve’s pretty toes, and the matching robe. She did love her chiffon.
Beneath that were jeans, camis, socks, and sneakers. He’d told Piper to pack for her sister enough clothes to last the weekend. Piper had been more than happy to do so. It was high time Brogan decided to finally do something about all the sexual tension burning between him and Eve, Piper had laughed.
He stared around the room again.
Hell, he’d never taken a virgin before, but he knew his sister had once claimed her girlfriend would forgive her anything if she treated her like a virgin and put some effort into seducing her. Brogan had snorted in amusement at the claim, while Samantha had stared back at him with a confident smile.
Picking up his own overnight bag, he moved to the shower in the next room. The damned thing was the size of two of his bathroom at the inn, let alone the shower. It was much too large for one person.
If Eve was there with him, though . . . The bench on the other side of the shower was easily six feet long and nearly as wide. Hell, the things he could do to her luscious little body on that bench as the rain showerhead poured down on them.
Showering quickly, all he could think about was the fact that she was still a virgin. Twenty-four years old, beautiful, social, yet she had saved herself for some reason—until now.
Drying quickly, he dressed in clean jeans and a white shirt.
Buttoning the shirt, then tucking it into his jeans before securing a belt around his hips, Brogan moved back into the living room, his gaze searching the room before he found her curled up on the wide hanging chair on the screened-in patio outside.
Padding barefoot to the open patio doors, Brogan stepped out on the stone flooring and leaned against the teak bar just outside the doors.
“You look like a teenager curled up in that chair like that,” he told her with a soft smile.
“Oh, really.” The sassiness and defiance in her voice had his balls throbbing, his dick threatening to swell impossibly wider. “Well, that just makes you a dirty old man then. Feeling the guilt yet?”
He wanted to laugh. Damn her, she could have the sharpest tongue.
“I picked out my bedroom while you were freshening up,” she told him with a little arch of her brow. “It’s not nearly as nice as yours, of course, but it’s still pretty swanky.”
She’d obviously explored the house some while he had been showering.
Lifting a glass to her lips, she sipped at the white wine she’d obviously found in the large walk-in refrigerator. The house had an actual walk-in refrigerator, which had amazed Brogan the first time he had been there.
Propping one arm on the bar, he just watched her, biding his time. She was sitting over there trying to convince herself she could control what was going to happen this weekend and how it was going to happen. And he would give anything to allow her the opportunity to see whether she could use all those very perceptive instincts and feminine wiles to control him. Unfortunately, in the middle of an operation with the potential to turn nasty fast was no place to allow himself to be that distracted.
“Are you ready to tell me who owns this place yet?” she asked when he said nothing more.
“I’ll tell you everything before we leave Sunday,” he promised her. “Hold your questions until then.”
“How very ominous,” she murmured as she brought the wineglass to her lips once again. “Let me guess: You’re waiting until Sunday because you know once you explain everything, I’m going to be either so pissed, so brokenhearted, or both that you won’t have a chance in hell of getting me into your bed.”
She was good; he had to give her that.
He merely grinned back at her, and kept his opinion to himself. His opinion and his confessions. It was the confessions that were going to get him in trouble. Or might piss her off for a while.
Of course, sometimes she was so much like her brother she might actually shoot him.
“I’m going to bed; I’m tired.” Sliding from the chair, still wearing those strappy four-inch peep-toe heels and carrying her glass of wine, she strolled toward him with such sensual grace and sleepy-eyed arousal, he had to clench his teeth, grinding off yet more enamel, to keep from throwing her to the couch and taking her with all the finesse of a callow, inexperienced teen.
He waited until she was ready to pass him. Until he was confident she actually thought she was going to get past him.
Then he stepped in front of her.
“You haven’t seen all the rooms yet,” he told her softly. “How can you be certain you’ve chosen the right one if you’ve missed any?”
Her heart was pounding. He could see the proof of it at her throat, where her vein pulsed at a rapid pace beneath her flesh. It was there in the hard, quick rise and fall of her breasts and the fine trembling of her body.
“The room I chose is fine, I’m sure.”
God help him, her nipples were as tight and hard beneath the material of her dress as little pebbles.
He lifted his hand and stroked the backs of his fingers down her cheek as her breath caught before she exhaled with a rough little sigh.
“You know what’s going to happen,” he told her as her lips parted to facilitate her breathing.
“That doesn’t mean it’s going to happen right now,” she informed him. He let her lift the wineglass and take a healthy sip before he spoke.
“I don’t heel worth shit,” he told her then. “You won’t control me, Eve, you won’t tame me, and you won’t dominate me. Now, that’s a warning I’ve never given another woman, and I won’t waste my time telling you again. So if that’s what you think you’re going to do, then I highly suggest you reconsider your options.”
Eve stared back at him silently, careful to keep her mouth firmly shut until she was certain she had a handle on the anger ready to burst past her lips.
When she felt she could speak civilly she smiled back at him with cool disdain.
“Brogan. Number one.” She held her forefinger up to him imperiously. “I am not now, nor have I ever been, some bitch who needs to be warned how arrogant, controlling, dominant, and manipulative men such as you can be until you realize just how it can potentially damage a relationship you decide you don’t want to lose.”
“Eve—”
“I listened to the bullshit spilling from your lips, Brogan; you can take a few precious minutes of your time to listen to common sense now.”
That finger pointed up toward his face imperiously.
“Number two,” she continued. “Not only am I not a bitch to jump at your command, neither am I some whore you bought for fifty bucks, or the mistress you support. Just because you all but kidnapped me does not mean I owe you so much as my company, let alone my virginity.”
She watched as his eyes narrowed on her, the blue-gray definitely turning steel gray at the mention of her virginity.
“And number three,” she snapped, unable to hold back the anger caused by so much adrenaline with no place to go. “If you can’t respect me, Brogan, and see me as your equal, then I’ll be damned if you’re even in the running for my virginity.”
She was finished now.
Stepping back, she propped her hands on her hips and glared at him. He smiled. And that smile sent trepidation surging through her.
“My equal?” he asked. “Sweet pea, when you can work a ten-hour day in the freezing rain, take down four drug-crazed dealers intent on having your head, keep up with my daily workout, and show me you’ve grown a ten-inch dick at some point, then I will most gladly drop all my dominant, manipulating schemes to rid you of your virginity and will then consider you my equal.” His hand shot out, grabbed her wrist, and, before she could jerk it back, he used it to drag her to him, his other arm locking around her back to hold her to him. Eve found herself up and close and personal.
“Ten . . .” she squeaked as his hips pressed against her firmly while he held her close enough that there was no escaping the fact that he might not be lying.
“Outside our bed, outside what is sure to be some damned fucking mind-blowing sex, you can attempt to tame me until hell freezes over, if that’s what you want.” His head lowered, and the erotic demand and white-hot lust that tightened his features completely stole her breath as he continued. “But you will not control nor tame the dominance and sexual tastes that are as much a part of me as the color of my eyes or the sound of my voice. And I’m still damned sure going to accept your virginity.”
She didn’t remember offering it, and he didn’t give her a chance to offer or refuse.
Brogan lifted her closer as his lips slanted over hers, heated and hungry, the rough velvet feel of them staking a claim on her senses that she’d always known was coming.
The kisses they had shared before now were nothing compared to this one.
Eve whimpered in rising pleasure as her hands slid from where they were pressed against his chest to grip his shoulders. Sensation swirled inside her, around her, threatening to destroy any hope she ever had of escaping the hold she could feel he was taking of her soul.
As he lifted her closer, bringing her feet off the floor and urging her knees to his hips, Eve moaned at the implications of the position. She gripped his hips anyway, because she couldn’t help herself. Because the feel of his erection, heavy with lust and pressing tight against his jeans, was driving her crazy with need.
Using his hips as leverage, she rose and fell against the wedge of heat between her thighs, grinding it against her pussy, rubbing the denim covering it against the silk of her panties, and pressing it against the swollen, too-sensitive bud of her clit.
Suddenly she could feel things she had never felt before where her own body was concerned. She was feeling things she had never known she could feel until Brogan.
The emptiness of her vagina, clenched and aching; she could feel the desperate need to be filled. To be possessed.
His lips continued to devour hers; he took deep, stinging kisses and licked at the burn before deepening the kiss again. His tongue pressed between her lips, licked and teased hers. His lips slanted over hers as his tongue tasted against hers, and the taste of them together became intoxicating.
She was only barely aware of him moving, walking the distance from the patio to the bedroom, she assumed as he lowered her to the incredibly lush support of a mattress. His lips slid to the curve of her jaw before he lowered himself to his knees.
Her knees were still gripping his thighs. As he lifted from her, hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt, Eve stared around them in awe, taking in the incredibly romantic candlelit bedroom. The soft light cast a dreamy quality through the netting draped over the bed in several layers.
Like a scene out of one of the naughty romance books she liked to read, the candlelight gleamed against the bronzed flesh of his chest and shoulders as he shed the shirt. He was living proof that redheads could indeed tan to that gorgeous bronze color.
Lifting her hands, she ran them down his chest, past his flexing abdomen, to the leather belt cinching his hard waist.
Loosening the leather, she smothered a cry at the feel of his hands pushing the chiffon of her dress above her thighs. His gaze locked with hers as she struggled with the metal tabs securing his jeans.
When she eased up until she was sitting in front him, he let her have her way. When she released the last tab, he caught her hands, holding her from her prize.
“What?” she demanded desperately, her hands secured by his.
“Undress for me, Eve.” The demand in his voice should have pissed her off, rather than making her wet between her thighs.
Swallowing tightly as he eased back and helped her from the bed, Eve found herself standing before him, suddenly uncertain, trembling.
“I don’t . . .” She swallowed again, her hands lifting helplessly.
“Shh, baby,” he whispered, catching her hands, and as she watched he brought her hands to his lips, turned them, then pressed a kiss to each palm before he released them.
“I fantasize about watching you undress,” he said softly as he rose before her and shed his jeans. “Every time I jack off it’s to the images of you.” He sat back down on the bed, his fingers gripping the broad length of his cock, and began stroking it slowly as she watched, mesmerized.
The wide, engorged crest throbbed demandingly as a creamy bead of pre-come formed at the tip. Eve licked her lips nervously, unable to draw her gaze from the heavily veined shaft and throbbing head.
“How does that pretty dress come off, Eve?” he asked, the low, caressing murmur of his voice drawing free a sensuality she hadn’t known burned within her.
Lifting her hands, her gaze locked on his fingers as he caressed himself, Eve slowly reached behind her back and slid the zipper down. She knew what she wore beneath the dress. She had worn what she dreamed of wearing for him.
After releasing the zipper, Eve lifted her shoulders and slowly lowered the material over the black lace bra and matching bikini panties. The chiffon fell to her feet, revealing the silk thigh-high stockings gripping her thighs with a band of lacy elastic, while the four-inch heels made her legs look incredibly long.
Brogan’s fingers stilled on his cock, his gaze glittering with lust as it went over the lacy underthings.
Reaching back, Eve moved to unclip the fastening of the bra. Once the tiny hook released, she shrugged the straps from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
He was stroking his erection again, his fingers tightening at the base as she bent to loosen the heels she wore.
“Leave the shoes and the stockings,” he growled, reaching out to thread his fingers through her hair before she lifted her head.
“Eve,” he whispered her name, but the command, the dominance in his tone left her trembling. “If I ask for something and you’re uncomfortable, make certain the discomfort is because you’re not certain you want it rather than because of your innocence.”
He was trying to still the demand in his tone and give the statement more of the appearance of a request, but she knew what he was doing, just as she knew what he wanted.
He held her head, staring back at her as he stroked his erection, and Eve felt a shudder race through her as he slowly released his grip on her hair.
She straightened, restraining a low groan as he rose and held her shoulders, slowly turning her to the bed as his lips lowered to hers once again, moving against them, sipping at her lips, tasting her as his hands stroked down her back to her hips.
His lips shifted to her neck, stimulating and exciting the sensitive flesh as Eve trembled beneath him. She tipped her neck to the side, arching against him, and the hard, engorged shaft of his cock pressed against her lower stomach. Heat and steely strength throbbed against her, dragging a whimpering cry from her lips as need overcame hesitancy.
Eve’s lips found his chest, brushed the small disk of a male nipple, and she gloried in the sudden tension that tightened his body. One hand buried itself in her hair as the other gripped her thigh, holding her to him.
Easing her lips lower, Eve caressed the broad expanse of his chest one kiss at a time until the fingers buried in her hair tightened, easing her lips lower.
She knew what he wanted. She could feel it in the press of his fingers in her hair, the waiting stillness of his body.
Gripping his lean hips with trembling hands, Eve lowered her head down his torso, her tongue peeking out to sample the dark male taste of him. Slowly easing lower, she paused inches above the broad, throbbing crest awaiting her attention.
She’d never done this before. She’d dreamed about it, but she never actually tasted a man so intimately. And she found herself so nervous now, so uncertain.
Brogan pulled back.
Staring up at him in surprise, she gripped his hips, not ready quite yet to admit to failure. Her lips pressed against the strength of his abdomen, she closed her eyes, uncertain what to do.
“Sit on the bed.” The growl in his voice was a rasp of pure hunger.
Eve sat on the bed, finding herself at the perfect level now for what he wanted. His hand slid into her hair again as his fingers wrapped around the pulsing shaft.
There was no request, no apology. Her gaze jerked up to his as the broad head was slowly pushing against her lips.
“Open your mouth over it.” He groaned, his expression demanding. “Suck it into your mouth.”
Her lips parted over the bulging crest, a whimper escaping her as the slow penetration of her mouth sent a surge of sensation racing to the depths of her pussy.
Her clit was a swollen knot of sensual agony, aching with a force she hadn’t expected as her lips finally closed over the full breadth of his cock head.
It was a powerful feeling, the intimacy of holding such erotic strength with nothing but the pleasure her mouth could bring him.
The second her lips closed around the width of the throbbing crest, instinct seemed to take over. Everything she had read, every time she had tried to practice what she read with the erotic toy she had bought, came to her rescue. Her natural sensuality and the hungry need filling her did the rest.
Caressing him, her nails rasping against his flesh, Eve lowered her hands from his hips to his thighs. The fingers of one hand curled around the heavy shaft throbbing beneath her lips, while the fingers of the other found the taut sac drawn tight to the base of his cock.
Forcing her gaze to meet his, Eve watched the steely depths of his eyes flare, the color darkening as his hard jaw tightened with a noticeable clench.
She sucked the fierce heat of the broad crest into her mouth. Eve flicked her tongue beneath the flared head, rubbing at the sensitive underside with her tongue. Caressing and sucking the throbbing head, she closed her eyes. She stroked the hard shaft, her nails rasping over the tightened flesh of his balls before she cupped them, weighted it as a harsh groan sounded above her.
Brogan watched her face, the flushed, delicate features absorbed, suffused with sensuality as the heated dampness of her mouth tightened on the head of his cock. His fingers fisted in her hair, the silky midnight length like living warmth in his hand. Holding the soft strands, clutching them, he fought to keep from pushing her faster than she was ready; he wanted to let her find her own rhythm, her own pleasure in him.
And she was killing him with that pleasure. Each heated stroke of her hot little mouth, the silken glide of her delicate fingers, lanced his balls with heat. His shaft throbbed furiously as her mouth destroyed him with each sweet draw, with each stroke of her fingers and lash of her tongue.
She was pushing him to an edge he’d never known before, one no other woman had ever pushed him to. As inexperienced as she was, as nervous as she had been starting out, she was destroying him now, moving her mouth up and down, suckling and licking and sending pulsing flares of incredible sensation racing through his cock.
“Fuck, Eve.” He couldn’t hold back the rough groan as the sensations threatened to send him exploding into her mouth. “Sweet baby. Sweet, sweet fucking Eve.”
Holding her head in place as his hands tightened in her hair, Brogan watched her face, watched the lush beauty of her mouth as he fucked it with slow, shallow thrusts.
“Ah, yeah. Suck it, sweetheart. That’s it.” His teeth clenched as her hold on his cock head tightened, the heat of her mouth drawing him closer to the edge of control.
If he didn’t pull back he was going to come. He’d fill her mouth with every hot pulse of semen building in his balls. And though he would love nothing better than watching her take every spurt of his release, he wasn’t quite ready to give in to the sensations whipping through his senses.
Pulling back from her, forcing her to release her hold on the engorged head of his cock, Brogan forced himself to ignore her moan of protest. If he heeded it, if he gave in to her, then the pleasure he had in store for her might well have to come another night.
He had only one more night to give her before he had to tell her the truth.
Cupping the back of her neck in his hand and pulling her to him, Brogan covered her lips with his again and consumed her kiss. Tilting his head, slanting his lips over hers, and devouring the pleasure to be found in her, he gave the lust burning in his veins full rein for just a second.
God, he loved kissing her. Loved the way her lips moved beneath his, the way her fingers slid into his hair, gripping and holding tight to him. She trembled in his arms and moaned into his kiss, lost to the pleasure building between them.
He loved her—no, he loved her kiss. He loved her touch. He loved her– He pushed the thought away, kissing his way from her lips, along her jaw, to the delicate line of her throat.
Eve’s head tilted to the side, granting access to the graceful line as her lips found his shoulder and her nails dug into his biceps. He kissed, licked, marked the base of her neck, shocked by the groan of satisfaction that escaped his lips at the sight of the reddened love bite where her neck and shoulder met.
Leaning back, Brogan framed her face with his hands and stared into her dazed expression.
“So pretty,” he whispered, stroking his hands along her neck, shoulders, and then down her arms to her wrists. Slowly pulling her wrists behind her back, he lowered his lips to the upper curves of her breasts.
Hunger, lust, and something more—something he didn’t recognize and couldn’t define—threatened to pull him under. Threatened to destroy his control and the pleasure he insisted on giving her.
When this night was over he would have to tell her the truth. He had no choice. Pulling her into his life required that she know what his life was, and her part in it. And the chances of losing her once he did so were high. High enough that he had to attempt to tie her to him with pleasure.
Brushing his beard over the hard tips of her breasts, he allowed his tongue to take a quick, flickering taste. Restraining her gently, he watched her expression, watched the pleasure building inside her.
This was a high that could never be duplicated. It was a high more dangerous to a man’s soul than any found in a drug. Because this high chanced an addiction to not just the pleasure, but to the woman. And he was beginning to fear he had found the woman and the pleasure that could become an addiction impossible to live without.
Parting his lips, still watching her, he lowered his mouth to the pebble-hard tip of her nipple.
“Oh, God, Brogan,” she cried out, arching into him as desperation filled her voice and aching, imperative need filled her gaze.
Ah, yes, he knew that pleasure rising inside her. The same pleasure he’d felt lashing at his cock as her mouth surrounded it and sucked it inside the damp heat.
He drew on the engorged peak of her nipple, licking at it, watching her expression and feeling the tension rising in her—ah, God, yes. She could definitely become his addiction.
His weakness.
She could become his destruction.
