Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(48)
By then she was reaching for him, wordless and bewitching, and he slipped on a condom from his nightstand before crawling over her body, leaving a trail of kisses up her belly and over her breasts. The fine sheen of sweat on her skin lent a saltiness to her inherent sweetness. How could he ever think he could let her go back to New Orleans for good, never taste her again, never absorb the delectable vibrations of her body again? Two nights with her, and he was hers in a way he had never been anyone else’s.
They groaned into each other’s mouths as he pushed into her, her grip on his dick almost more than he could stand but nothing he could escape from. She wriggled her legs wider for him, and he caught one over each of his arms while she gasped at the new depths he reached in her. “Are you okay?”
“More than,” she murmured back, lacing her fingers behind his neck as he began to move into her, his nerve endings on fire.
He attacked her neck with kisses. “Can’t get enough of you. Never. Never will.” She made no reply save for a whimper, meeting him in the steady, rolling rhythm he set. Slow, to build the ache. “I want you begging, Savannah. Fucking begging me to come. If it takes all night, I’ve got it. If you have to miss your flight, I don’t care. Even if it has to be the last time, I don’t want you to ever forget.”
“No,” she said urgently, staring him in the eyes with heartbreaking desperation, “not the last time. It won’t be.”
She said that now, and he hoped to God she meant it. “Okay,” he murmured, catching her lips in a kiss. “It won’t be.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
Only then did she relax, going molten around him. He slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her with all the hunger she made him feel, body and soul, drinking her cries, driving her for miles across his bed. As soon as her body clued him in to her impending climax, he pulled out amid her almost violent protests to tease her, soothe her back down to baseline with kisses and caresses.
“I hate you,” she giggled.
“Still haven’t found that last heart,” he reminded her, nibbling at her hip bone.
“No!” Laughing, she twisted away from him and rolled out of his reach. He followed, crawling on all fours across the bed until he had her pinned beneath him again, immobile with her wrists bound in his fists and pressed to the mattress. She tested his grip and, seemingly satisfied that she couldn’t break it, softened beneath him. “What, I can’t play anymore?” he asked.
“You lost,” she informed him smartly.
“I didn’t realize last night was my only chance, or I might have tried harder.”
“Too bad you didn’t ask for the rules before you played the game.”
“Oh yeah?” he growled, kneeing her thighs farther apart. “I seem to recall you have some begging to do.”
“Never.” But her expression smoothed out in pleasure as he slid the underside of his cock over her clit and then deep into her *, her eyes nearly closing. He dropped his head to kiss her nipples, one and then the other. “Oh, God. Mike.”
“I know,” he rasped. “Fuck, I know.” She sheathed him like she was made for him, and if he wasn’t careful, he would be the one begging. “Let’s run away.” He dragged his mouth in a circle around her areola. “Find a deserted tropical island. We won’t have to explain ourselves to anyone; no one will ever find us. I’ll build us shelter, you can wear grass skirts and sand dollars. I’ll drink rainwater from your belly button.” To demonstrate, he moved down and circled the little dip of her navel with his tongue, his cock slipping from her body as he did so. “I’ll eat mango slices from between your legs.”
“Jesus,” she groaned as he rained kisses down her stomach and to her clit. “You’re selling me on this idea.”
“That’s my intention.” Slipping his forearms under her hips, he laced his hands over her stomach and held her captive to his mouth, determined to not lose this particular game. She would beg him if he had to stay here all night.
Her hands went to his head, clenching at what hair she could grip. He would grow it out if only for the promise of feeling her pull it in ecstasy. With lips and tongue and teeth, he worshiped her, feasted on her, devoured her. She writhed against his hold; he didn’t let her get away. When her legs tightened around his head and her stomach muscles pulled taut under his hands, he stopped, taking his ministrations to the soft flesh of her inner thighs. “Michael!”
“Beg me,” he reminded her.
“Nooooo,” she groaned.
“All right,” he said with affable nonchalance, and continued enjoying the silky texture of her skin against his lips. Savannah squirmed, breathing heavily and whimpering. Testing her, he returned to her fevered center and licked the barest tip of her clit. She jerked so hard, she nearly broke his hold on her. “Not ready,” he said sadly.
“What?” she sobbed.
“I’ll come back when I can touch you without you flying apart.”
“Fuck! Make me come, please, please, please, Michael, I’m begging, okay, I’m f*cking begging—”
No way on this planet was he going to waste the chance to feel her squeeze the life out of him when this orgasm rent her. Surging up her body, he plunged balls deep into her, her hands going to his ass and her legs wrapping around him as she took every inch of him. He f*cked her hard and steady, grinding against her clit, nearly losing his godforsaken mind when she finally fell over the edge, rhythmic contractions sucking greedily at him. Her fingernails raked across his back, tearing at him, her lovely body surging underneath him. His own release ripped loose from the base of his spine and punched through into her to the musical sound of his name from her lips, over and over like a song.