Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(48)

She imagined he used that commanding tone when he was giving out orders. It sure made her want to take direction. “You can’t appreciate anything because I’m sitting.”

He laughed low and gravelly, sounding very male and very amused. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Emi.” To prove it, he rested his palms on either side of her and leaned forward. Her lips parted in anticipation, desperate for his touch. But at the last minute he dipped his head to run his tongue over the lace trim of her bra, then sucked her aching bud into his mouth.

“Dax,” she moaned, her head falling back to give him better access. Access that he took full advantage of, teasing and nipping until she forgot what they were arguing about.

A fact she was certain he knew, because she felt him smile against her skin, and he kissed his way down her belly, making it quiver the farther south he journeyed. “A man can’t enjoy dessert in the shower,” he said and she felt his words vibrate against her skin. “He wants to feast slowly, take his time to savor and enjoy.”

His statement was as alpha as they came. Confident and assured, with enough cockiness that she had no doubt he would deliver on his promise. And then some. Plus, his teeth were nipping at the lace along the upper edge of her garter belt, causing that slow burn to turn into a wildfire.

Then, without warning, he planted one final kiss, so close to home she wanted to weep with relief, until he pulled away.

Emerson’s eyes flew open, and it took her a moment to gain her wits and realize that he was sitting on a kitchen chair, making himself comfortable.

“What are you doing?”

“What I’ve wanted to do since I woke up in San Francisco and found you gone.” He gently took her ankle and placed it on his thigh. Then the other, giving them both a little squeeze, telling her to leave them there. As if she could possibly move.

Her mind went fuzzy when, with a masterful flick of the fingers, he let the clip open on her fishnets, hooked his thumbs in them, and slowly slid them over her knees, down her calves, and finally off. “Actually I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you walk out in this dress tonight. But this,” he said, eyeing her barely there silk panties. “This I have been dreaming about for months.”

Emerson watched breathlessly as he lowered his head to brush his mouth along the inside of her thigh, sliding ever so slowly up to the lower edge of her panties, where he gave a sexy tug with his teeth, then a more deliberate one with his fingers. As he pulled the silk down, his lips followed, kissing every inch of skin he exposed.

Dropping her panties to the floor, he looked up at her through his lashes. “Ready, Emi?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer, instead sliding his hands beneath her bottom and dragging her forward until she was teetering on the edge of the table. Then, without breaking eye contact, Dax slid his soft tongue all the way up her center.

And his mouth? His mouth was everything he’d promised: diligent, skilled, deadly accurate—and equipped with teeth that had her worked up in a complete frenzy in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Dax was also the ultimate tease, keeping the pace slow and purposeful, taking her higher and higher without letting her crash. But there was something reverent about the way he held her hip, the way his thumb slid back and forth over her stomach, offering her comfort and connection.

His big, calloused fingers slid up her leg, then one slipped between, while he thoroughly took her apart, stroke by stroke, slowly driving her out of her mind until her heart was pounding against her rib cage and her need was so intense it ached. The harder she reached, the further away she seemed to be. Then she heard herself begging.

“Dax, please.”

“Please what, Emi?”

“Please,” she breathed. “Now.”

She could have sworn he said, “Now what?” Or maybe that was him chuckling, but the big jerk didn’t please her anything. He just kept feasting and teasing as if he had no intention of ever letting her come.

“Now,” she said, tightening her legs. “No more foreplay. I need you in me now.”

“You can boss me around all you want, Emi,” he said against her burning flesh, and yup, he was chuckling—and slowing down. “But in my world, it’s ladies first. Always.”

And true to his word, he slid in a second finger, his sniper skills coming in handy, allowing him to hit the target.

“Do that again,” she said, realizing she was bossy.

“That?” Another bull’s-eye and her body tightened.

“Oh yeah, just like that.” Because bossy be damned, she was so close to an orgasm. When he did it again, her core coiled to ride that fine line between pain and pleasure. He gave a final pass, and her body arched up against his mouth and she exploded around him, her hips jerking with sweet release.

She had no clue how long she lay there, but when the aftershocks faded she fluttered her eyes open to find herself flat on her back and Dax standing over her, a forearm on either side of her head. His tattoos were taut and flexed as he held himself above her, and he was wearing a slow, sexy smile.

And nothing else.

Dax was naked. Completely and gloriously naked.

“Are we going to the shower now?” she asked when she was able to breathe.

“Oh, no. That’s dessert. We still have the main course.” He pinned her to the table with his deliciously hard body, running his hands down her sides, molding them to her butt.