The Strength of the Pack (Suncoast Society #30)(34)

He cupped the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair, holding her in place while his lips closed onto hers. His other hand came to rest in the small of her back, gently pulling her against him. Her arms curled around him, her mind lost completely to him and everything he was—and would—do to her.

Okay, so no intercourse wasn’t a hardship. Not if this was any indication.

She felt the solid, hard bulge of his cock pressing against her through his jeans and couldn’t wait to finally get a look at it up close and personal.

When he stepped away again, she almost stumbled when she tried to follow him, to cling to him.

He chuckled and took her hand. “Follow me.”

Walking slowly, he led her out of the master bedroom and to the living room. There, she realized what he’d done when he had her sit on the edge of his portable massage table, which he’d positioned over the area rug that the coffee table usually occupied. He frequently took the massage table to the club with him if it was a busy night and he thought the club might need the table he usually used as an additional play station.

He took her hands and placed them on his waist. “Take my shirt off, baby.”

Working only by feel, and with the difficulty level increased by how her hands trembled, she tugged his shirttails loose from his jeans and then followed the line of buttons up to the collar and started there. When she had his shirt open, she slid her hands around his waist and pulled him to her so she could press her cheek against his chest.

He chuckled again, a sound she adored. His fingers stroked her hair. “A meaner sadist would punish you for not exactly following directions, but I want you to enjoy this completely.”

She hadn’t seen him without his shirt yet. She nuzzled his abs, feeling a thin treasure trail brush against her lips, from his navel to his waistline, where his jeans were slung low on his hips.

Arms still around him, she stood, her lips covering every inch of ground, grazing over his nipples. She enjoyed the soft gasp he made when she found the left and flicked it with her tongue. That led her to look for the right and repeat the motion with the same result.

She drew her hands up his back, feeling the lean muscles along his spine and up to his shoulder blades. Only then did she finally work his shirt down his shoulders, his arms, until it fell unseen to the floor.

She circled him, her lips and hands and fingers tracing abstract designs across his flesh. He never wore cologne because of his work, but he smelled like soap and shampoo and deodorant, and warm heat pulsed from his skin.

The contour of his spine she dedicated to memory under her tongue, her lips, having to stand on tiptoe to reach the base of his neck and down again, until she found the hollow of his back. There, she traced little hearts with the tip of her tongue.

He reached behind him, found her hands, and drew them around his waist, to his belt. “Next,” he softly said.

This was…nothing like this could ever compare. Not to insult Leo or his skills, but this was…

Amazing.

She fumbled a little with his belt until she finally got it, opening it and then thumbing the button. Her breath caught as she carefully eased his zipper down, relieved to realize he had briefs on under them and didn’t have to worry about catching the hard shape of his cock in the teeth.

Eva followed his jeans to the floor, kissing her way down the backs of his lithely muscled thighs, behind his knees, the hair on his legs tickling her cheeks as she worked her way around him to the front.

Now she was on her knees and knew she was about at eye level with his cock. In the past, this wasn’t something she’d done with Leo. Not by his fault, but because of bad memories. She’d tried, but when he realized it was a problem for her, he stopped. And she loved him for it.

Maybe with Nate’s patient love she’d be able to overcome those dark memories once and for all and be able to love one hundred percent of him one thousand percent of the way he deserved.

But she pressed her cheek against the outline of his cock. By her best guess he was at least eight inches, and thick. She pressed a kiss against the head of it through the fabric, her hands stroking his tight ass before sliding down the backs of his thighs and around.

And up.

Drawing them slowly up his thighs, until they were cupped around the hidden shape beneath.

No hands gripped her head with cruel force.

No coarse order to open and take it.

No forcing her to do…anything.

Just her mind and the darkness behind the blindfold, and the loving man in front of her.

Opening her mouth, she lightly grazed her teeth over the head, down its thick length to where it grew from his balls. She feathered her lips over his sac, what she could reach of it, while her hands cupped his cock.

Still patient waiting from him, soft, pleasured sounds when she did things he liked, but that was all.

She stood, one hand cupped over his cock, one following his chest, up to his throat, around the back of his neck so she could urge him down for a kiss.

And still, waiting…

She didn’t know what he wanted. Figuring this out was frustratingly fun, so she finally backed up until she felt the table behind her again. She slipped the hand covering his cock inside the waistband of his briefs, both of them softly moaning as her fingers closed around the steely velvet heat of his shaft.

Damn.

Controlled kisses, letting her set the pace, he did lean forward and brace his arms against the table but she didn’t feel trapped.