Wicked Burn(87)

“You see why I usually have to restrain you, little butterfly?” he asked between clenched jaws, his gray eyes blazing. “If I didn’t, I’d probably be coming in you within minutes every damn time.”

A continuous cry of delight vibrated her throat when he began to pump her hard and fast, making the bed pitch against the wall. When Vic clenched his eyes shut and a harsh shout erupted from his throat, her arms encircled him. In the moment of his climactic crisis he was weakened. She pulled him down against her. Her heart beat madly in her chest at the sacred feeling of his lean, strong body shuddering violently in orgasm while she held him so tightly.

His breath sounded loud and ragged in her ear when he fell limply on top of her a few seconds later. Niall cherished that sensation as well. It had felt indescribably wonderful to her to have Vic allow her to love him in that way. She turned her head and nuzzled his damp neck.

His male scent—sweat, spice, and musk—drove her wild.

She became aware that with his weight pressed down on her, the butterfly’s buzzing was so intense that a distinct burning sensation plagued not only her sex, but crept past her * to enliven the nerves in her ass. She pressed her hips restlessly against the bed to alleviate the friction growing there. The bottoms of her feet sizzled with a sympathetic ecstasy. She pressed her aching nipples into Vic’s hard chest, scraping them against his crisp chest hairs.

She groaned in an agony of pleasure.

Vic’s eyes blinked open at the sensation of Niall’s hips twisting against him and the sound of her tortured moan. His nostrils flared at the sight of her beautiful face transformed by pure desire. A light sheen of perspiration coated her features. He leaned up and brushed his lips against the adorable freckles on her perfect nose.

“My little butterfly is dancing close to the flames,” he whispered before he sandwiched her full, parted lips between his own and plucked at her languorously.

“Vic, please,” Niall whispered. Her nipples poked into him like hard little darts. He felt her push up, pressing the vibrator against his pelvis to give her more pressure on her clit. He had the little gizmo on a fairly low setting, hoping to keep her just beneath the boiling point for as long as she could endure.

Or he could endure, for that matter.

Niall gasped in protest when he withdrew from her. Vic winced in sympathy to her plight as he stood quickly and went to dispose of the condom. His cock was still partially hard and extremely sensitive to his touch. When he came out of the bathroom, the first thing he saw was Niall pressing down with her fingers on the little yellow butterfly, her hips undulating in tight little circles against it. A sharp pain of arousal stabbed through him, causing his cock to bob up in the air.

So much for a partial erection.

He took three long steps to the side of the bed and flipped off the vibrator. Niall’s head came up off the pillows, her red lips parted in preparation to protest. Vic just shook his head when she made eye contact with him.

“I’m the one who’s going to make you come, Niall, not a piece of plastic.”

She panted as she watched him come down on the bed next to her. Niall always had driven him into a frenzy of lust with the magnitude of her honest, complete responsiveness to him. But seeing her tonight, sensing both the strangeness and the sacredness of what she’d told him about having a child and losing him . . . it was doing something to Vic that he couldn’t even describe. He experienced an overwhelming need to take her with him into the dark, mysterious depths of intimacy, to explore a place where they’d never gone.

He leaned over her and took total possession of her mouth. God, she was sweet. He focused solely on that delicious cavern, plundering her depths repeatedly, sipping and sucking at her plump, honeyed lips until they shaped themselves into a plea. When she tried to twist herself so that their bodies were flush, however, he held her down gently at the shoulders and transferred his attention to her neck.

“Vic, I need to come.”

Her low, husky voice sent a prickly excitement down his spine, stiffening his cock even further. At the same time that he scraped his teeth lightly along the muscle at the back of her shoulder, he put his fingers on her erect nipple. He growled appreciatively at the sensation of her tightening. He pinched at her rhythmically until she began to twist again on the bed.

God, he loved Niall’s writhing, tight little body.

He placed one hand on her hip to hold her in place before he sank his head and sucked on one, and then the other, large, sensitive nipple until they stood up for him, proud and distended. Toward the end he had to hold Niall to the bed as she became frantic with her arousal. Fearful that he was going to send her over the edge with nipple stimulation alone—he knew damn well that she was responsive enough for it to happen—he leaned up and reached for the bag at the side of the bed.

Perhaps she was in need of the spice of pain to keep her just below the threshold of orgasm.

He knew she was watching him as he withdrew a black, silicone butt plug along with some lubricant.

“Vic . . . ?” she asked uncertainly.

His eyes flickered to her sweat-dampened face. Never one to beat around the bush, he said, “I’m going to open your little ass so I can f*ck you there, Niall.”

He saw her elegant throat convulse as she swallowed. A flash of regret went through him. He didn’t know why he always sounded so hard with her. His desire for her made him edgy . . . as if, on some level, he was always worried she would refuse him when his need for her was like a sharp ache that refused to be denied.