Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(40)

She stared down, mesmerized. His thick, gleaming phallus slowly disappeared into her body. He arched over her, his sex-dampened pubic hair grinding against the darker thatch between her spread thighs. He was lodged so deep, rocking, swiveling. His eyes glittered.

She shut her eyes against their piercing intensity.

He cupped her head, his hands tightening in her hair. “I want you to see my cock going into you. I want you to remember every detail.”

She pulled against his hand, swatted his chest. “Let go of my hair. I don’t go for the grunting caveman act. Cut it out.”

“Oh, yeah,” he muttered. “Scold me while I f*ck you. Put me in my place. I love that. Can’t get enough of it.”

She wound her fingers into the hair on his chest, and yanked it.

He sucked in a breath. “Fuck.” He pinned her hands to the pillow on either side of her head. “Goddamn, princess. That was dirt mean.”

She stared into his eyes. “You started it,” she said. “You deserved it. Provoking me on purpose. You arrogant bully.”

They stared at each other, panting. Afraid of the wild energy, the momentum of desire. Each challenging the other. Unable to back down.

Liv hooked her ankles around his and pressed against him. Clenching around that solid club of his flesh embedded deep inside her.

He let go of her hands and gathered her up beneath him, slamming into her body. Her breasts jiggled with each jarring thrust. She strained beneath him, arching, jerking to meet every frenzied lunge with one of her own. It was amazing. It hurt, and she didn’t care. She incited him, demanded more, with teeth and nails and gasping cries.

At some point they were on their sides, then on Sean’s back with her on top, then he rolled her back beneath him. The position didn’t matter. Nothing could break that wild rhythm, or slow the hard, slapping blows of flesh against flesh. The pink carpet worked its way across the floor beneath their grappling bodies. They clutched each other. A shock wave of pleasure teased, beckoned…and hit.

She spun, soared through the spangled darkness. Settled slowly, conscious only of shimmering delight that rippled endlessly, spreading from the center of her soul. Extending out into a starry black forever.





Chapter 9



H oly f*ck. Earthquakes jolted from the epicenter of his groin and racked his body. He came, and came, and came. An endless, wrenching explosion.

Some instinct of self-preservation had prompted him to clap his hand over her mouth. Damn good thing, too. She was a screamer.

She was still whimpering and moaning, wiggling deliciously. Everything about her was so soft, so lush, so strong.

That orgasm had detonated from some place so deep, it blew him apart. He should be in a state of bliss. Relaxed, goofy, floating.

He wasn’t. He felt awful. He was thinking now, and it wasn’t pretty. He’d rather be lost, in the slick pounding magic of mindless f*cking. Nothing happening in his head but instinct, impulse.

Too bad. The thoughts came, like hammer blows. Liv didn’t want him to throw himself at her feet and offer to serve her for all eternity. She didn’t want confessions or justifications or excuses. She wanted a well-hung stud to lick her until she was juicy and hot, and put it to her deep and hard. His dream scenario. White hot, guilt-free sex with no strings. Every man’s secret fantasy, whether he admitted it or not.

So why did he feel like ten different kinds of shit?

He pressed his face against her cool, fragrant hair, still damp and deliciously humid. He didn’t dare look her in the face.

He felt abashed. He’d never been that rough with anyone, not even when begged to be so. It was like his body had been possessed.

He took a deep breath, raised his head. Her eyes fluttered open, heavy lidded. Unfathomable gray, ringed with indigo, lit with irregular splotches of gold. Curling black lashes. But she wasn’t looking at him.

She was miles away. Light years. It made him ache.

He forced himself to lift his weight off, shoving his trembling limbs up so he was on his knees. “Who’d have thought you were a screamer?” He scooped up a handful of her damp hair. It glided through his fingers, cool and slippery as night dark satin.

She licked those red lips until they gleamed, and dug sharp little claws into his arms, rubbing the soft cushion of her mound against his pubic bone. He angled himself to oblige her, instinctively.

“Didn’t even hear myself,” she whispered shakily.

“I hope nobody else did, either,” he said.

She glanced down at the thick, broad stalk sliding slowly out of her. “But you still didn’t come.”

“Sure, I did,” he said. “I came with you. Didn’t you feel it?”

“I thought I did,” she said. “But you’re still—”

“Hard,” he agreed. “Very. Yeah, you inspire me, beautiful.”

She wrapped her legs around him. He sucked in a deep breath and fought for control. “If you want me to f*ck you again, I need a fresh condom. This one won’t stay on. I must’ve shot a quart of come into it.”

She shivered with startled laughter. “Oh, dear. Please don’t use euphemisms, Sean. Tell it exactly like it is, by all means.”

“Oh, I will.” He slid out of her, holding the condom so that the tight cling of her body could not dislodge it. The sight was straight out of his own personal erotic fantasy world. Liv, splayed out on the floor, her soft white thighs spread. The long slit of her * was shockingly pink against her dark pubic hair, the puffy, gleaming lips pouting out of it a darker crimson, like some exotic flower. It was making him crazy.