Whiskey Sharp: Torn. Lauren DaneЧитать онлайн книгу.
to be alone with him. For easy access.
She nearly laughed but that was before he pulled the sweater up and off, leaving her there in her bra, the cool surface of the wall a counter to the heat of him.
All she wanted was him. On her. In her. All around her. That sort of focus was something she only usually had for art. But this? He filled her with so much naked greed it surprised her.
She struggled momentarily with his button and zipper, but then, with a groan, she grabbed his cock. In both hands.
He snarled, spinning them a few times until they burst through the half-open door of her bedroom, nearly taking them both to the floor as she tripped over several pairs of shoes she’d left out.
Laughing, he heaved her up and then onto her bed. She managed to pull her jeans and panties off as he got his jeans and shirt off.
She paused, hands at the hooks of her bra as she took him in. His eyes were glazed slightly, drunk on hormones and sex. His upper body was so much better than any of the pictures she’d seen in magazines or on television.
She hadn’t been able to get a good look when they’d been together a few days prior; it had been rushed and they’d still been totally clothed. But he stood in her room, stealing the oxygen, pumping out fuck-me heat like a furnace.
And that was before she’d really gotten a look at the line-and-dot elephant head across his upper chest. Later... Later she’d ask about all his ink, including the numbers and letters on his left side and the jellyfish on his thigh.
After.
For that moment, however, she tossed her bra to the side after surging to her knees. He didn’t need her to hold a hand out, instead, he looked her up and down with a light in his gaze and then moved, taking her to the mattress, his body against hers, skin to skin, hot.
She hissed, writhing against him as sensation rushed through her system.
* * *
SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL.
Beau looked at her on her knees, tits still jiggling just a little from her movement.
Curves for miles.
Not wanting to wait another second, he joined her on the bed, pulling her underneath him. Before he could kiss her again, she wrapped her legs around him, opening herself up to him so his cock brushed against the scalding heat of her pussy.
“You’re so wet,” he mumbled, sliding his hands over all the skin he could reach.
“Thank you for that,” she replied.
He wanted to laugh and groan and snarl for more.
So he bent to kiss her and let himself fall.
Nothing tasted the way she did. Sweet and tart and totally Cora.
She dug her nails into his shoulders, trying to hold him in place, but there was more of her he wanted to kiss. More of her he wanted to explore.
Always more and never enough it seemed.
He tasted the salt of her skin as he licked over the blade of her collarbone. Drew in the sweetness of her sigh and the shiver that followed.
Kissed her over and over all the way down her body, over her ink, including a lovely bit of lace and gems just underneath her very fine breasts.
After looking his fill, he licked over a nipple until she made a sound—breathy and needy—and then he blew until it stood hard and dark.
He hummed his delight. Wandered over to her other nipple, repeating the lick and blow, and was rewarded with her nails digging into his biceps and a snarled yes.
At the hollow of her hip, he inspected the firefly in full color inked there. She yelped into a fit of giggles when he nipped it.
She was ticklish as he rained kisses over the inside of her thighs.
The laughter stopped as he spread her open and looked his fill.
Yes. Utterly beautiful.
She arched her back on a gasp when he took his first lick. And let himself drown in her. In giving her pleasure and taking his own.
In his hands, she was fire. Lush and sensual. But at the same time there was an edge to her. A vibrant—and in places, dark—energy.
There, between satiny thighs she was slick and totally open to him. There she was more addictive than he’d imagined she could be.
Bone-deep craving seemed to slice through his senses, shredding his control.
The muscles of her thighs trembled as her breath caught. Close. He knew she was close and though he wanted to feast on her for a lot longer, he had to satisfy himself with knowing he’d have another chance, hopefully more than one, to get back to where he was exactly at that moment.
Making Cora Silvera come so hard she pounded the bed at her sides as she brokenly whispered his name.
He had to rest his cheek against her belly, gasping for air the same way she was doing. Not because he was physically tired, though he liked to think his oral skills took some energy. She seemed to yank his emotions free with the way she not only touched his skin, but reached inside him with her reactions. With nothing more than being who she was.
He’d been through a lot of traumatic crap in his life. A lot of highs too. He was generally easygoing with it all by that point. But the way he felt with her, around her, was just shy of overwhelming.
So seductively good he just didn’t have the energy—or the will—to make up reasons to resist.
Cora was an adventure he wanted to experience.
Her smirk when he lifted his head enough to look up her body sent an arc of lust straight to his cock, so he jumped up to dig through his pants to grab a condom before returning to her.
She grabbed the packet from between his teeth before he could bite down and tear it open. “That’s bad for your teeth,” she told him, ripping it by hand and giving it back.
He could flat-out guarantee that he’d never had a lover tell him to be careful of ruining his teeth. Perversely, that only made him harder. So hard that he had to zone out a bit as he got the condom rolled on his dick or else come all over his hand and end this—at least for twenty minutes—before it got started.
Still on her knees from when she’d grabbed the condom, she waited for him, lips slightly parted, pupils large. Her hair was tousled all around her face in a way that screamed, I just had an orgasm.
“On your belly,” he told her.
She rolled over and gave him a look. Inviting more as she thrust herself back toward him.
He swore under his breath as he took in the antique chandelier taking up the entirety of her back. An old-school design. Strong and feminine. Sexy as hell.
“I love this ink,” he said, leaning down to kiss her between her shoulder blades. Settling between her thighs, he pushed one leg up, keeping it bent at the knee.
The sight of his cock disappearing into her body as he slowly entered her short-circuited his brain. His hand at her hip, fingers digging into the muscle there slightly to set the pace he wanted.
Slow. Because he wanted to draw it out.
But that was difficult when she was so snug and hot around him. Still soft and slick from her orgasm, her inner walls stretched, and then tightened around him.
Deep. Even deeper once he’d tipped her hips just a bit. Knew he’d gotten it right when her moan got raspy at the end.
He fucked her with hard, deep digs. Concentrated on how it felt, on how her skin tasted, on the wall holding back his climax.
“Harder,” she said over her shoulder. “More. Please.”
Beau bent himself over her.