Edge of Midnight (McClouds & Friends #4)(43)

Her eyes flicked back to him. “God, Sean. You are insatiable.”

“Are you going to have mercy on me?” he asked. “Or are you going to send me home with blue balls as a punishment for my insolence?”

“Quit with the snide remarks. You’re tempting me to do just that. One more sarcastic crack, and I’ll…oh…my God…”

He dragged his cock slowly out of her, then bent down and slid his tongue hungrily up and down the length of her hot, juicy slit. Yum.

She gasped, stiffened. “What are you—God, Sean, stop that!”

“Don’t punish me,” he pleaded. “Cruel princess. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t leave me hanging. Your divine majesty, I beg—”

“Shut up!” She wiggled away.

He grinned at her. Her eyes were glowing, and he could tell with his goof radar that she was trying not to laugh. Always a good sign.

“So?” he asked softly.

Her eyes slid away, cheeks red. “How do you want to do it?”

“You decide. From behind, on your hands and knees. Up against the wall. Ride me like a wild bull at the rodeo. Anything. Lady’s choice.”

“I’m too wobbly kneed to do anything acrobatic,” she said shyly.

He offered her a hand. “So lie back on the bed,” he suggested.

She let him tug her to her feet. “It’s not too boring?”

He laughed at the worried tone in her voice. “I have never been so far from bored in my life,” he told her, with total sincerity.

Liv sat down on the bed, looking uncertain.

“Sit right at the edge,” he told her. “I want to stand up for this.”

She nodded, scooting closer, and he pushed her down against the mountainous heap of pillows. She hesitated for a moment. He waited for her body’s invitation. She closed her eyes, biting that soft red lower lip.

They both sighed as she gracefully opened her legs for him.

It started slow. Silent and fraught with meaning, like a ceremony. She was so beautiful, curvy and starry-eyed. Glowing like a pink South Sea pearl against the lacy pillows. He pushed her knees wider, staring at her dark ringlets, the vibrant colors of her sexy secret flesh. “Open your * lips.” His voice was hoarse, his mouth dry with excitement.

She put her hands to herself, and parted her labia. A helpless sound vibrated through his body as he pressed the tip of his cock to her slippery folds, nudging inside. “Are you sore?” he asked, though it would kill him if she changed her mind. “Do I have to go easy?”

“Ah…yes and no,” she said.

He froze. “Huh? What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means yes, I’m sore,” she hissed. “And no. Don’t go easy.”

He took her at her word, sliding home with one deep, heavy lunge.

Ah. Yes. She took every thick inch of him, which almost never happened, and it felt so good. His whole length hugged and caressed by that snug, super-deluxe sheath, licked and squeezed and loved.

She grabbed his waist, yanked him deeper, and off he went again, like an animal in rut. No care for her pleasure, no calibrating the stroke to get at her hot spots. Just a wild, frenzied plunge and glide.

He pounded into her. The bed rattled and shook. Her soft tits jiggled with each slamming thrust. His refined sexual technique was reduced to vapor and steam. He was a f*cking raw nerve.

A fist squeezed his throat, clamped his heart, but it was swelling, too big to be contained. Everything was bursting, flying apart. He saw Kev’s face as he floated back. Smiling, like something was funny.

But it f*cking never was.

Liv’s arms were looped around his back. Soft hands petting him.

The princess, soothing her lusty love slave after he serviced her. An approving pat pat pat on his sweaty, heaving shoulders. Excellent f*cking. Good boy. Off you go, back to the stable. Ta ta. Be good.

This could reduce him to a begging, pleading dick-for-brains who deserved no better than to get stomped to pulp beneath her feet.

He forced his throat to stop shaking. Pulled out, turned away without looking at her. He could hear her rustling around as he fished the bag out of the trash and pried it open to dispose of his condom.

“Sean? Are you, ah, OK?” Her voice was whispery soft.

He shrugged. “I’m great,” he said thickly. “You’re a fabulous lay, princess.” He escaped into her bathroom, and splashed water into his hot, staring eyes until the inconvenient, embarrassing tears eased off.

He braced himself before going out into her bedroom. Pulled on his jeans, careful not to look at her. Strapped on the knife, the gun. Put on his shoes, his shirt, without a word or a glance. She stood silently, swathed tightly in her robe. “Sean?” Her voice had gotten even smaller.

He ignored her as he grabbed her cell phone off the dresser.

“What are you doing with that?” she asked.

“Programming my number into it,” he said. “If you get the whim, just text me with a time and place. I’ll be there. At the ready.”

“Why are you being so cold?” she whispered.

He glanced at her, frowning. “What, wasn’t the sex hot enough?”

“That’s not what I…oh. I see. You’re doing that metamorphosis thing again. You’re being the cruel, horrible Sean now, right?”