In For the Kill (McClouds & Friends #11)(25)

It was that look in his eyes, again. It scared her to death. “Don’t,” she blurted. “Don’t be silly and melodramatic. I can’t take it.”

“Oh, no!” he said, in mock distress. “It’s gone! I chased it away! Come back, please! Come back!”

She swatted his thigh. “Stop it!”

He stroked her cheek. “I’ve never seen that smile. You look so different. I don’t see it enough. The whole world doesn’t see it enough.”

Well, shit. It was the world’s own damn fault for being so f*cked up and crazy. But that was a bitchy thing to even think, let alone say.

Sam cupped her face and kissed her, delicately at first, but it bloomed instantly, from something tender and holy into something blazing and carnal. It felt so natural, inevitable, to bend down and take him in her mouth. She’d never gone down on anyone, nor had she been inclined to, until she’d seen Sam. At which point, a lot of things that had sounded distasteful to her had suddenly made sense.

He tasted wonderful, felt wonderful. She loved the vital throb of his heartbeat against her tongue, the velvet soft skin sheathing that thick, steely club, his salty scent. She cradled his heavy, pen-dulant balls in her hand, sucking him deep, swirling her tongue.

Sam clutched her shoulders, leaning over her. His muscles were rigid, like steel cables. “Have you ever done this before?” he asked.

She took the opportunity to rest her somewhat overextended jaw and drag in some deeper breaths. “No. Am I doing it wrong?”

“Fuck, no. It’s amazing. Can I come in your mouth? Not that I’ll have much choice, if you keep on like you’re doing.”

A flush heated her face. “I’m fine with that.”

She leaned down to get back to it, but Sam cupped her chin and gazed down into her face. “I’m getting my Stone Age ego rush now,” he told her. “I like being your first. I like it so much, it scares me.”

“I’m glad that it’s you, too.” She bent to the task once again.

He hunched over her, his breath deep, rasping pants. She deepened the long, tight, suckling strokes.

He shuddered, shouting hoarsely as the hot jets of salty come spurted inside her mouth. Almost too much for her to hold.

She rested her burning cheek on his thigh, cradling his cock in her hand. Only slightly softer. Still gleaming. He hunched, still panting.

She wiped her mouth and sat back on her heels, but as soon as she met his eyes, she wished that she hadn’t.

She could give him pleasure, but it wouldn’t make him happy for more than a fleeting moment. He wanted so much more.

His stark gaze pierced her like a needle. It made her want to die.

He got up and stumbled into the bathroom. Water ran. He came out holding out a glass. She nodded her thanks and drank.

“Your turn,” he said.

She was almost afraid to ask. “Ah . . . for what?”

He took the glass and tossed off the last gulp himself. “Cunnilingus,” he said matter-of-factly. “Let’s get down to it.”

She laughed, startled. “This is not a game where we score points!”

“The hell it’s not.” He set the glass down on the bedstand. “I love going down, and I have been told that I am reasonably good at it. I’ve been dreaming for years about putting my face between your legs. So let’s get on with it, before you get sick of my whining bullshit and blow me off definitively.” He gripped her hips, dragged her across the mattress. Her torso fell backward.

She struggled up onto her elbows. “Wow! Smooth lead-in, Sam!”

“Yeah, I know. I’m actually a civilized guy, under normal circumstances,” he said. “But you’re not normal circumstances. Rude stuff just falls out of my mouth with you. I’d apologize, if my basic socialization skills were functioning, but they’re not. Filter failure.”

He was holding her thighs open with his big, hot hands. She tried, without success, to pry them off. “I’m glad you have filter failure,” she said. “I prefer the truth. Even when it makes me angry.”

“That’s fortunate,” he said, pushing her legs wider. His gaze narrowed at her resistance. “Relax, Sveti.”

She kept her back straight, her chin high, her gaze steady. “I don’t take orders well,” she said. “You sound angry and controlling, and that does not make me want to open my legs.”

Sam ran his fingers through his wild mane of hair. “Goddamnit, Sveti,” he snarled. “Just let me fulfil my function as a disposable sex toy, okay? Just let me make up for hurting you! Give me that, at least!”

“You’re not a disposable toy. And you sound so grim about it!”

“Sorry I’m not in a more playful mood, but there’s nothing in the world I’d rather do right now than put my face between your legs.”

His raw tone unnerved her. “But you’re so angry.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Angry at myself for wanting you, angry at myself for hurting you—”

“I’m not hurt, goddamnit!”

“Angry that you’re leaving,” he went on, as if she had not spoken. “Fucking furious that you waited until now to give it up to me. You needed a plane ticket to Europe in your hand before you dared to touch me. A ready escape route, right? Just in case you actually liked it.”