Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(42)

“That’s the weird thing about sex,” Sean said reflectively, circling her clit with his thumb. “You learn things that are so intimate. Buried so deep, they don’t even have names. But hot sex like this lays it all naked. You want me to put names to all your nameless secrets?”

“I’d put names to yours, too, you know,” she said, her voice jerky with excitement. “It cuts both ways.”

The truth of her words blanked out his mind for a moment. He gathered his thoughts, and pushed on. “This scene, for instance. It turns you on that I sneaked in here and put it to you hard on the floor while your folks sip tea downstairs with their pinkies in the air.”

She made a growling sound. “You’re pissing me off, Sean.”

“Yeah, I know. Meanwhile, you’re coming around my hand.” He dragged his teeth across her back. “You love it when I talk dirty to you. We’ll find a hotel that rents by the hour. People pounding on the walls, shouting obscenities while we go at it so hard the building shakes. That would get you off, wouldn’t it? Slumming with bad-ass trash like me?”

She elbowed him, hard enough to make him gasp. “Let go of me!”

“No,” he said. “I’m a disobedient boy. This fancypants four-poster makes me want to spread-eagle you, tie you to the bedposts. Not tonight, though. You’re too noisy. You’d shout the roof down.”

“That is not my thing.” Her voice quivered. “I’m not into bondage games. That stupid kink stuff strikes me as icky, so forget it, OK?”

“Yes, that would explain why your * squeezed my fingers so hard when I mentioned it.” He licked her back. “Don’t bother lying to me while I’m f*cking you, princess.”

“I’m serious, Sean.” She twisted around, glared at him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t worry. If it’s too much, I’ll soothe you with my tongue. I’ll just lick those juicy pink lips for hours, until you’re squirming and gasping. Exhausted from coming. I go crazy for your girl juice. I’m addicted to it. I’ll lap it up until you kick me away and make me stop.”

He kept his hand inside her while he groped for his jeans, caressing all those sweet spots that made her shudder and forget to fight. He tore the condom packet open with his teeth. Rolled it on.

“I want something from you,” he said.

She stiffened, turning her head. “What?”

He laughed at her suspicious tone. “Nothing severely kinky. You said you make yourself come squeezing your legs together. The idea really turns me on. I want you to do that for me. I want to feel it.”

“Feel it?” She twisted around, gave him a puzzled frown. “How?”

He answered by nudging the blunt head of his cock into her slick opening, pushing until it fetched up against her tight resistance.

“Like this,” he whispered. “From the inside. Just squeeze.”

“Oh. Ah…” Her voice trailed off, quivering, and her white-knuckled hands clutched thick handfuls of the coverlet. “My God.”

“You’re so tight. You’ll have to spread your legs, to let me in. Then you can close them again. Squeeze as hard as you can. Let me feel it.”

She hesitated, but slowly her thighs released. He almost blew his wad then and there, it was so exciting. This angle, this view, those peachy round ass cheeks, the agonizing, delicious shove into her gleaming pink * from behind. He took it easy, but soon she was shoving back against him, sucking in air with each sexy lunge. All he had to do was brace himself and hang onto his self-control until he was deep inside, hugged and squeezed with every beat of her heart.

He shut her legs again, flanking hers with his own thighs.

“Do it,” he whispered. “I’m going to relax and enjoy the ride.”

It was torture, staying passive as a statue, clutched in that powerful female grip. So erotic, to sneak into her secret chamber and feel how she touched herself when she was alone, squeezing and releasing, those small, strong muscles pulsing around him. She jerked and quivered as she got closer, straining desperately. His cock could feel the quick tremolo of her fingers, working her clit. He was squeezed with every pulse of her strong thighs. His body shook with excitement.

She almost dragged him along with her when she went over the top, gasping screams muffled against the crumpled coverlet. Her thighs were still closed, but he could slide and thrust more easily inside her now, oiled by another hot gush of magic, slippery-sweet girl come.

He leaned over her, savoring every gasp, every shudder and shake of her body. Finally the orgasm subsided, and she lay panting and speechless, her face cherry red, her parted lips half hidden by hair.

It had dried into big, wavy swirls. He lifted it off her face, and she made a wordless protest and hid her damp face against the coverlet.

He cupped her chin, tugged it around. “Don’t hide from me.” It came out like one of those caveman commands that bugged her, but she was too limp to complain. He draped himself over her, shoving the robe up so he could lick the sweat off her graceful back. A TV chattered downstairs. White noise, to screen the sounds of sex. If they were lucky.

She made a small movement, as if trying to get some more air into her lungs, and cleared her throat. “You still haven’t come.”

“Nope. I could have, but I was hoping for one more go at you.”