Locked In Temptation. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
manhood stood as erect as any she’d ever seen. It was gigantic, and she wondered how he’d kept all his junk encased in a pair of briefs and behind a zipper. She was beginning to feel light-headed at the thought that anything of such monumental size could fit into anything...especially a woman.
“Ready for me to undress you, Joy?”
His words made her snatch her gaze up to his face. Undress her? Did he actually think what he was packing could fit inside her? The thought of him even trying should have made her loins ache in pain, instead of the throb of pleasure she was feeling between her legs. For some reason it was anticipation and not panic ruling her mind.
As if he knew her concerns, he said, “I won’t hurt you.”
She frowned. “You don’t know that.”
He chuckled. “I haven’t sent a woman to the hospital yet.”
Was that comment meant to be reassuring? It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that there was a first time for everything, but instead her gaze lowered to the area between his legs again. Definitely impressive, and she had a feeling he knew it, which was probably why he didn’t appear self-conscious. Not all men owned what he had. She forced her gaze lower, past his genitals and legs to a pair of pretty feet.
“You’ve seen enough of me. Now I’m dying to see all of you.”
Joy suddenly imagined two naked bodies. Theirs. Limbs entwined while going at it beneath the sheets. Just the thought, the very idea, sent a gush of wetness flowing between her legs. Suddenly the thought of being able to handle Stonewall Courson stirred a raw need inside her.
He leaned down, brushed a kiss across her lips and whispered, “There will be no pain tonight, Joy. Just pleasure. I promise.”
She didn’t see how that was possible but decided she would take his word for it. “Alright, if you say so.”
“I do.” He slid his tongue between her lips and proceeded to ply her mouth with intense strokes of his tongue. Joy knew at that moment she would never tire of being kissed by him.
Getting caught up in the kiss, for a minute she thought she only imagined the feel of his hand beneath her dress. But when his fingers eased behind the waistband of her panties and began stroking her wetness, she tore her mouth from his and moaned deeply against his neck as sharp sensations invaded her womanly core.
“Remember. More pleasure than pain.”
She pulled back and looked at him. “Hey, wait a minute. Moments ago you said no pain, just pleasure. Why are you backtracking?”
He licked the side of her face. “Because I felt you down there. You’re pretty damn tight.”
Pretty damn tight? Maybe in his book but not in hers. His statement only raised her anxiety level a notch. He stared deep into her eyes. “Trust me.”
Trust him? Didn’t he know she was a cop and a cop didn’t fully trust anyone? But that throbbing force between her legs all but demanded that she trust him. It had been a long time since any man had given her pleasure, and she wanted it. She needed it. She would even go so far as to say that after six months and four canceled dates, they both deserved it.
“I can handle it,” she said with a lot more confidence than she actually felt. And it didn’t help matters that his fingers were still planted between her legs, inside her, stroking her in a way that would make her agree to just about anything. This was their first date. Were they moving too fast? From the relentless throbbing at her womanly core, one would think they weren’t moving fast enough. And she was woman enough to admit, she wanted to have sex with him. She wasn’t looking for anything permanent, exclusive or otherwise. She needed something to take the edge off, to relieve her stress. She wanted this.
She wanted him.
She eased up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Okay, Mr. Courson. Show me what you can do with all that you’ve got.”
* * *
STONEWALL INTENDED TO do just that. Starting now. He reached behind her to ease down the zipper of her dress before pulling the garment over her head and tossing it in a recliner chair. He looked down at her and couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips when he saw her matching bra and panties. Pink. And not just any shade of pink. It was a soft pink. Damn, the mere thought of the tough, kick-ass Detective Joy Ingram wearing sexy pink lingerie sent his libido into overdrive. And the sensual scent of her perfume was arousing him to enormous heights.
“I’m discovering that underneath all of that hard-hitting and rough detective facade is one hell of a sexy woman. I think I’m going to start calling you Sexy Joy,” he said, using his fingertips to gingerly stroke up and down her bare arms, loving the feel of her soft skin.
“Whatever you like.”
Stonewall chuckled, doubting she would be this agreeable often. He unhooked her bra before easing the straps off her arms and then drew in a sharp breath when two gorgeous breasts were freed. His mouth suddenly began tingling and his tongue seemed to thicken. Without any control he reached out and began stroking the turgid nipples, loving how they felt beneath his fingers. But more than anything he wanted to know how they tasted.
Leaning forward, he drew a swollen bud into his mouth and began sucking hard. She grabbed the back of his head and cupped it in her hands, as if determined that he finish what he started. As far as he was concerned, not only would he finish it, but he intended to brand these two delectable twin globes as his. The thought of that gave him pause. When had he ever wanted to mark any woman with his brand? That was just something Stonewall Courson didn’t do. He’d never gotten serious enough about someone to even think to do such a thing.
Lowering his hands, he traveled to the panties he’d invaded earlier. Moments later he lifted his mouth from her breast.
“I think we can dispense with these now,” he said, pulling the pink panties down her gorgeous legs. A shudder passed through Stonewall when he saw that part of her he craved the most and thought her feminine mound was simply beautiful. And then there was her scent, driving him insane, making his nostrils flare in response.
“Joy.”
Her name was a whispered growl on his lips as he began kissing a path down her body, taking little nips in between. When he reached her navel he used his tongue to lave her there. He glanced up, stared into her face. His gaze was fixated on her lips and he was tempted to ease up her body and take possession of her mouth again. But there was another part of her body that he was eager to give equal time.
It was then that he shifted his body to bury his head between her legs. Parting the soft feminine folds of her womanhood, he dived inside and began using his tongue to stir her wetness and massage her clit. She moaned at the intimate infiltration, and he could feel her lifting her hips to give him total and complete access.
That was exactly what he wanted, and he drove his tongue deeper, sucking harder, getting greedier. He loved the taste of her and doubted he would get enough. She was begging him to stop, but then, in the same breath, she was begging him not to stop, get more, take his tongue deeper. She had grabbed the back of his head to press him more intimately to her. He would give her what she wanted and more.
Maneuvering his tongue inside her, he decided to do what he termed the Stonewall Special. He began by twirling his tongue around and around inside her, loving the sounds of the moans she was making. Using his hands, he tilted her hips at an angle to give his tongue even more penetration and depth. And then he bore down on her, as deep as his mouth could go, and began sucking her clit with the intent of making her feel desired, essential and ravished all at the same time. He knew it was working when her moans turned into whimpers. He was sucking her right into a full-blown orgasm of the most delicious kind.
She screamed. His detective actually screamed, and the sound pierced his ears and aroused his erection all at the same time. He refused to pull his mouth back until he was satisfied he’d lapped her up completely. Even then, he used his tongue to put featherlight kisses over her womanhood, trailing over every