Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(37)

“For me to f*ck you,” he finished flatly. “No more than that.”

She actually laughed, the words were so incongruous. “What do you mean, more? What more could there possibly be?” She jerked her gaping robe shut. “Don’t get huffy. If it offends your delicate sensibilities to be used, just put your hard-on back into your pants and get out.”

She was horribly reminded of his metamorphosis in the jail. The warmth in his eyes had gone out like a candle, leaving blank chips of green reflecting glass. It unnerved her to see his face like that.

She locked her knees and concentrated on not wobbling.

“OK,” he said, after a tense pause. “I’ve made my decision.”

“Oh, have you?” She knotted her sash with a jerk. “And?”

“I’ll stay and service you,” he said. “I can’t leave here in this condition. My dick feels like a steel spike. I’d probably injure myself.”

She couldn’t breathe at all, now. He was so scary, with that remote expression on his face. Sexual energy pulsed off him in waves.

He whipped his shirt off over his head, flung it to the floor. Crouched down and unbuckled his ankle holster, the knife strapped to his other calf. He pried off his shoes, his movements swift and practical.

The seduction that had imbued every word and gesture was gone. He was just getting down to business. Her belly fluttered with doubt.

He shoved his jeans down, stepped out of them, kicked them away. He did not wear underwear. He stood before her, his legs in a wide, aggressive stance, his erection jutting out before him.

His thin smile had no warmth to it. “Want to take a closer look? Check my teeth, measure my cock? See if I’m up to standard?”

Hah. As if she needed to. His sarcasm deserved a sharp reply, but she couldn’t come up with one. She was too busy staring.

Don’t gape. Don’t give him the satisfaction, her little voice nagged, but it was useless. She was speechless.

He was amazing. Big and broad, jutting out of the springy bronze tangle of hair at his groin. His thighs were hard with muscle, rough with hair. A thick knotwork of veins throbbed along the base of his shaft, the huge, flared glans was flushed an angry red. A gleaming drop wept from the slit. He covered it with his fist, rubbing it over himself with a rough hand. She’d never been with anyone that big. Nowhere near.

“So? What’s the verdict?” he asked. “Do I make the cut?”

“Oh, would you just shut up and do your job,” she said shakily.

“Fine. We don’t have anything to talk about, so let’s get right to it.” He advanced on her, and she backed away instinctively, sitting down abruptly on the bed when she hit it with the back of her knees.

Sean loomed over her. His scent was heat and salt and sweat, the dark musk of maleness, the spicy hint of some soap or cologne. She let out a tiny squeak as he grabbed her hands, and wrapped them around his penis, sliding them roughly up and down his length.

“Here,” he said. “Get acquainted.”

Oh, whoa. He was so hot and stiff, his skin so soft. He pulsed beneath her cool, trembling hands. She felt his heartbeat in her fingers.

More gleaming liquid dripped from him onto her hands, and he pressed himself against her cupped palm. “Squeeze it,” he said. “Hard.”

“I’m—I’m not very—”

“Get your hand wet with your lube, too. Rub it over me until I’m all slippery. I want those lily white princess hands to rub royal * juice all over my cock. Mmm. Luxurious.”

“Would you quit it with the princess cracks?” She touched her fingertips to the hot, throbbing moisture of her vulva.

“No.” He sank to his knees and pushed her thighs apart. “That’s not going to do the job. Do it like this.”

She gasped as he thrust two fingers slowly, deeply inside her, and wiggled, whimpering, as he curved them into a gentle hook, pressing upward and circling a soft, throbbing spot inside her that grew and flushed, wider and wider, until it encompassed everything. It resolved into deep sobbing jets of pleasure, like a fountain inside her.

She sagged over his hot damp shoulder, panting. His hair was silky and fragrant against her face. She sucked in gasps of his scent.

“Ah,” he murmured. “That was amazing. So hot. You squirted girl jism right into my hand. God, I f*cking love that.”

“I did?” She lifted her head, bewildered.

He pulled his dripping hand out of her, grinning triumphantly, and stroked himself with it until he looked like he’d been oiled. “Magic juice. Makes me hard enough to drive nails. Hold me, Liv. Squeeze me.”

He dragged her hands up and down his shaft until the slow, pulsing rhythm milked another shining drop of fluid out of him. His penis bobbed in her face. He cupped the back of her head in his hand and tugged, very gently, a wordless question in his eyes.

She let out a nervous little giggle. “You can’t expect me to…oh, dream on! That thing wouldn’t fit in my mouth.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “Kiss it. Taste me. Seal our bargain.”

He stroked the hair on the back of her head, his eyes fixed on hers. She could feel the power of his will, working on her like the huge, inexorable force of a magnet. She gripped him tighter, so that the bulb shone, taut and swollen and hot. Desperately eager for her touch.