Too Hard to Handle (Black Knights Inc. #8)(64)

It was going to be okay.

He was going to be okay.

And just like that, she was gone. Leaving nothing behind but a warm sense of blessing, of permission, of encouragement.

A lump formed in his throat and he gripped Penni’s hips, turning to lay his face against her warm stomach. He wrapped his arms around her bottom and hugged her to him as his heart, which he’d thought would remain a closed first for the rest of his life, slowly unfurled.

“Dan?” she whispered. “What…? Is something wrong?”

“No,” he managed, shaking his head. His heart wide open. “No, Penni,” he said, pressing a kiss to her stomach, loving how the muscles quivered against his lips. “Everything is really, really right.”

Her fingers tangled in his hair, smoothing it back from his face. “Dan, I—”

“Shhh,” he told her, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down her legs. “Step out of ’em,” he instructed. “And then lift your leg and rest your foot beside my hip.”

“Dan…” His name was a plea for mercy. A plea for more. Which was exactly what he planned to give her. So, so much more. Along with the burning desire that arced through his veins like electrical jolts, he now possessed a sense of rightness. This was right. They were right. And he was determined to prove that to Penni. With every touch. With every word. With every kiss.

“It’s okay, babe,” he soothed. “I’m gonna give you everything you want.”

A breath shuddered from her as she did what he asked. When she stepped out of one side of her jeans and panties and planted her foot beside his hip, he ran a hand up her long, slender thigh. The skin was creamy and smooth, the muscles beneath shaking delicately. He watched as goose bumps followed the path of his palm, waiting, teasing himself until finally, he allowed his eyes to drink in the whole of her. Save for the jeans and panties still pooled around her right leg, Penni was standing before him completely naked.

And she was glorious.

All sweet, delicate curves and inch after inch of smooth, tantalizing skin. He marveled at her beauty, everything that was hard and male in him responding to everything that was soft and female in her. And then, after a few moments, he glanced at the part of her that made her woman. At the part of her that held the secret of life, the core of mystery that men had been seeking to unravel since the beginning of time.

She was…shaved. Holy f*ckin’ shit!

Except for a very small patch of hair at the top of her slick channel, she was completely bare. Which highlighted just how ready, how needy she really was. All swollen and pink. Her lips dewy and plump.

If he thought he’d been hard before, he was wrong. Looking at her now had fresh blood filling him, stretching him until he hurt. Until every breath was agony because it caused his turgid cock to brush against the fabric of his boxer briefs. Who the hell makes underwear out of burlap? He’d never really noticed the problem before, but it was beyond evident now.

And, oh! How he wanted to taste her. Put his mouth on her and suck until she cried out and unraveled against his tongue. But that wasn’t what she’d asked for. Those weren’t the words that’d tumbled from her succulent lips. And so, with a reverence born of eons of women letting men put their hands on them, of delicateness allowing toughness a chance at touching something sinfully soft, he flattened his hand against the gentle curve of her lower belly and let his thumb rest at the top of her channel.

She sucked in a breath, the leg supporting her trembling. “Easy,” he murmured his voice sounding like boulders rumbling from the back of his throat.

He was dizzy with want. Faint with desire. But he still managed to steady her by placing his free hand on her hip. Then, looking up at her, watching her intently, he slipped the callused pad of his thumb inside her slick folds. Finding the hard, swollen bud of her clitoris, he pressed. Just once. Just to test her.

Her eyelids fluttered. The muscles of her stomach quivered under his hand. And her head tipped back, exposing the length of her kissable throat.

He flicked his thumb, back and forth, back and forth, and gloried when her hips swung forward. She moaned. It was throaty and raw. He answered in kind. Only the sound that issued from the back of his throat was more growl than moan. The noise animalistic and hungry. Which pretty well summed up in two words the way she made him feel.

As for the way she felt? That would take a million words. But he’d start with scorching hot, decadently soft, wildly wet.

Roger that, that definitely described her. And all he could think was how good it would feel to release the button on his jeans, pull down his zipper, and impale himself into her wonderful, silky heat. But besides that not being what she asked for, he didn’t have a condom. At least he didn’t have one handy. There was a box in his backpack, but—

Why the hell didn’t you bring it with you, numb nuts?

Oh, right. Because when he’d come to check on Penni, the last thing he’d expected was to be pulled inside the tiny lavatory to have his wound cleaned one minute, and have her naked and panting and begging him to make her come the next. Although, come to think of it, he should have known better. They’d proved over and over that whenever they were alone together, they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. The lust they felt—that intrinsic, elemental connection—always took over. And they always ended up here. Seeking pleasure from each other. Giving pleasure to each other.