Dane's Storm(35)
I had a moment of reservation, but I couldn’t work out why. Nothing felt important except the heat cascading through my veins, so I focused on his chest, got lost in the quickened rise and fall as he pulled me in through the open door of the waiting elevator. The door closed and he kissed me again, even more frantically, more intimately, and I knew it was because we were moving closer to a bed. A bed. And all I could think was yes, yes, yes. Dane broke free of my mouth to kiss my chin, my ear, the side of my neck, and I panted, lifting my leg to wrap around his hip, to bring our cores closer together. He hissed in a breath as the door dinged open, taking my hand and dragging me down the hall to my room.
“The key,” he said, his voice a sharp command. I gave it to him, my hand trembling as I put the plastic card in his. Three seconds later and his mouth was on mine again, the hotel door clicking shut behind us, and I had the distant thought that he didn’t want to give me time to think, to consider this, though in the moment, I didn’t much care. I wanted him. Needed him. I tried to organize my thoughts. I had a notion I should stop this, wasn’t even really sure how it’d started, but all I could focus on was an untethered elation—so bright it blotted out everything else. Still, I managed, “What are we doing, Dane?” his name ending in a moan as both hands came to my breasts, flicking my nipples through the material of my shirt.
“What I’ve wanted to do since I showed up at your door earlier tonight. Hell . . .” His words faded as if he’d gotten distracted or perhaps thought better of them. His hands were up my shirt now, his mouth on my throat and the sweet pleasure reverberated from my breasts to between my legs. He sank to his knees and I let out a small sound of loss that ended in another groan as he put his mouth over my crotch. I was still wearing my jeans, the fabric a barrier between my body and his mouth, and yet the sensation was so strong I cried out, pressing toward him.
“Jesus, Audra,” he groaned. And then we were a tangle of clothes and limbs as we undressed ourselves, each other, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I needed to feel his skin on mine desperately. He kissed my body as each item fell away, his lips skimming my cleavage, licking between my breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth.
“Oh God, yes,” I breathed, pressing toward him, reaching down to take him in my hand, already knowing the shape and girth of his hard length before my hand wrapped around it. Stiff and smooth, both the hardest part of him and the softest. I’d always loved the beautiful dichotomy, gloried in the way the two merged together to form him. We both moaned, and he pumped into my grasp, sucking harder at my nipple. I thought I might orgasm right then and there.
Naked, Dane lowered himself, his large palms taking hold of my hips as he opened me with his tongue, taking one long swipe that made me cry out deliriously and grip his head in my hands. His hair was slightly damp at the hairline and I pushed it back, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. A dark-haired god worshipped between my thighs, and for a moment our gazes held, clashed, sending a jolt of hot arousal to the place he was licking. My mind might be tangled, twisted, but my body, ah, my body . . . Everything inside me was coming undone beneath his mouth and hands. It was too much, too much, and with a gasping moan I came, crying out his name, my knees buckling with the intensity of my orgasm.
Dane growled softly, the reverberation causing an aftershock to thrum through me as he caught me behind my knees, rising swiftly and lowering me to my back on the bed. He stood over me—naked, gorgeous—his eyes raking my skin, a look of such blatant triumph in them that it shocked me, caused some of the lust fog to clear minutely. But then he was on top of me and that feeling, skin on skin, felt so amazing that I dismissed whatever direction my mind had been trying to go. Nothing mattered except his weight pressing on me, knowing he’d fill the aching emptiness I felt. His skin was hot, his body hard, his torso as lean as I remembered, the ridges of his belly defined. The coarse hairs on his legs rasped over the smoothness of my own, and the feel of his size, his strength, his utter masculinity, sent a thrill through me as I reached for him, leaning up to claim his mouth again. He kissed me back for a moment, his penis prodding my thigh—hard and insistent—before he pulled away, looking down as he took himself in his hand. I felt the rounded tip of him pressing at my opening and gasped, feeling the slight sting as I stretched to accommodate him. I closed my eyes, unable to process both the vision and the physical sensations as he pressed into me, slowly.
“Open for me, honey,” he said, his voice tight as if he was barely holding on to control. The term of endearment warmed me even more than the solid press of his body. “Ah, God,” he hissed. “You feel so good. You’re so damned tight.”
I whimpered, a small sound, as I stretched even more. He stilled and when I blinked up at him, an expression of. . . knowing was on his face, and along with it, a tightening of his jaw and a softening of his eyes. With a sudden movement forward, he pressed all the way inside me. I released a harsh moan, borne of some discomfort, but mostly an arcing rainbow of pleasure that spiraled through me, traveling all the way to my fingertips and toes.
Dane pulled out and then pressed slowly back into me, then again, the look on his face filled with such blatant lust, such unbridled pleasure, that it aroused me all over again. I moaned, pressing upward, reaching for the next wave of pleasure.
“I love the way you light up beneath me,” he growled. “Love it so fucking much.”