Wicked Burn(77)

She quaked in his arms.

His throbbing erection pressed into her warmth at the same moment that he sank his head to find the longed-for nectar of her mouth. He grunted in satisfaction when his tongue dipped into her honeyed cavern, striking thirstily again and again. Niall moaned shakily into his mouth. Her hands came up to clutch tightly at his shoulders. She began to rub her tongue sinuously against his, making his lust swell into a frothing fury.

He had thought their first joining—and many times since then—had been maddened. But Vic knew right then and there that he’d never known what a sexual frenzy was until that moment. Consequently his actions, if not forgivable, weren’t too surprising when Niall suddenly twisted her head and pushed back on his shoulders. He palmed her delicate jaw and turned her back so that he had access to her mouth again, patently refusing her denial of him.

“No, Vic,” she whispered hoarsely, her fragrant breath flowing across his seeking lips. “Not like this. I wanted to explain to you—”

“I don’t want your explanations,” he said as he tilted his head and plucked at her juicy, lush lower lip. God, she tasted good. “I want to f*ck you. And that’s all I want from you, Niall.” He ran his free hand from her waist up to her cloth-covered breast. He palmed the small, firm mound and squeezed as he watched Niall’s upturned face. His cock surged against his jeans like a caged animal furious to be free when a tiny whimper escaped her throat and her big eyes darkened with arousal.

“You want it, too. Don’t fight me.” He held her gaze as he lowered his hand to her hips and slid his fingers beneath her panties. He thought he might die if he didn’t get his fingers into her drenched, tight slit, with his cock soon to follow. She didn’t protest. In fact, Vic was pretty sure she didn’t breathe as he lifted her weight with an arm around her waist so that he could work the silk fabric beneath her bottom. When he touched a round ass cheek, he paused for a second, his nostrils flaring. She stared up at him as he caressed and then squeezed that taut package of flesh.

That was how they were posed—him lifting her slightly off his kitchen counter with Niall’s sweet little ass in his palm, the heat from her core resonating out to his fingers, beguiling him, when the sound of the screen door opening and loud knocking pierced his thick lust.

“Ignore it,” he ordered as he swept her panties below her bottom to her thighs, but the pounding on the door continued even more loudly after a pause. He saw Niall’s throat convulse as she swallowed.

“Vic, maybe you should . . .” Her voice faded uncertainly.

He closed his eyes briefly in a fairly useless attempt to get hold of himself.

“Fuck,” he muttered forcefully between clenched teeth. He panted like he’d just run a sprint. He almost cursed again, this time at Niall, when he backed away from her and she immediately hopped off the counter. She fumbled with her panties at the same time that her eyes skittered warily to his front door. Vic turned away abruptly when he caught the sight of pale blue panties and dark golden pubic hair before her dress fell into place.

He launched himself at the door.

“What do you want?” he asked Meg after he’d jerked open the front door several inches and saw who dared to get in his way when he’d just caught a glimpse of heaven.

“Did you pass Niall on the road? She said she wanted to walk home, so we dropped her off at the side of the road, but she should’ve been home by—oh, there you are! Is everything okay?” Meg asked when she glimpsed Niall behind Vic.

Vic was about to tell his sister that of course Niall was okay. Being horny as hell wasn’t a reason for concern, was it? He frowned when he glanced quickly back at Niall, however. True, her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, a telltale sign of her arousal that Vic recalled all too well. But those glowing cheeks shone with tears and her eyelids were puffy from prolonged crying. Despite his burning body and turbulent emotions, Vic was forced to acknowledge that Niall didn’t really look all that okay.

“I’m all right,” Niall said hoarsely through a tremulous smile.

Meg glanced pointedly at Vic and Niall. “Well, I just wanted to check on you. I’ll go on up to the—”

“I’ll come up to the house with you,” Niall said swiftly. Her glance at Vic was far more uncertain. “Maybe . . . maybe we can finish talking tomorrow, Vic?”

It took him a few seconds to realize that Niall was trying to get past him and that he was blocking the way as if determined to keep her a prisoner.

Which he might have been considering on some caveman level. Vic couldn’t say for sure.

“Vic?” Niall prodded softly after she’d followed Meg out onto the front stoop and turned back, holding the screen door open with one hand. Meg had retreated to wait for her, standing next to the truck.

“Don’t go,” he said simply. Sweat slicked his body and his cock still felt like it would burst like a grape out of its own skin, it was so tight. If he couldn’t have her, Vic had concerns for his own sanity.

Pain flickered across her features. “I have to. I want to be able to explain things, Vic. You’re angry at me. It’s not right for us to . . . I’m sorry,” she fumbled in a whisper. “Maybe tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.

Vic examined her tear-stained face as she looked up at him. The sight pulled at him so hard it felt like something dislodged and fell with crushing impact deep inside of him. The suspicion that that nameless something was his brittle defense against Niall kicked up his tumult once again. He was just frustrated, horny, and confused enough to make her want to suffer as much as he was at that moment. He leaned forward and spoke in a low, cutting tone.