Protecting What's Theirs (Line of Duty, #1.5)(5)

His hips began to thrust rhythmically, pushing his length into her grip. “Would you like to hear what happens next?”

She inhaled in a rush. “Yes, please. The devil is in the details.”

“I guess that makes me the devil.” One big, callused hand dropped to the outside of her thigh, coasting up her flesh just close enough to raise goose bumps on every inch of her body. Slipping underneath her skirt without hesitation. When he reached her backside, Ginger wanted to beg shamelessly for him to palm her roughly, knead her there. Instead, he merely brushed his fingers down the center of her bottom, along the cherry-red material of her thong. The simple touch had a devastating effect, every nerve ending singing with terrible, glorious need.

“I’m going to take some much-needed time with your mouth right now. While I do, you’re going to continue stroking me until I’m so close to coming, I’ll be ready to die just to drill you against this wall. But I won’t. I’m going to stop you just before I bust. Then I’m going to lick the sweet * that’s been waiting so patiently for me.” He surged into her hand. “Come on, baby. Make me suffer.”

Ginger’s knees wobbled, lust pounding so insistently in her belly, she would climax from his words alone if he continued to speak. No. Derek would give her relief. Only Derek. She could feel it hovering already. Only if she followed his sensual instructions, though. Hell, she was eager to follow them. They’d been designed for her alone. Lifting her eyes to his, she massaged the crown of his erection with her thumb, reveling in his shortened breathing. When her fingers tightened and dipped to the base, rising in a firm, tight stroke, Derek’s mouth swooped down with a growl to kiss her greedily. The kiss was far from gentle. It was raw, base agony translated through hot, slippery warmth. The sting of teeth. The smooth glides of their tongues. It consumed Ginger, scorching her where she stood. Unconsciously, her hand increased its pace to match the frenzied tempo of the kiss.

They broke apart, gasping for precious air at each other’s lips. Her breath caught at the fierceness of his expression, but her hand didn’t slow its ministrations. Subtly, she twisted her wrist on each stroke. Applied more pressure. Above her head, his fist punched the wall. “Just a little more. I’m almost there. Make it f*cking hurt for me, beautiful girl.”

“Let yourself go. Let me make you come, Derek. Please.” Her plea escaped her without a thought. She didn’t like seeing him in pain. Couldn’t think past making it go away. He’d been away from her too long. Knowing him, he would refuse to lessen the urgent ache on his own.

“No.” His jaw flexed. The firm hand resting on her bare bottom squeezed her flesh, then slapped it, leaving a fresh sting in its wake. “You do what I tell you, Ginger. Or no tongue between your legs.”

Oh God. She needed his mouth so badly. Her stomach muscles clenched tightly, moisture coating her core just imagining his dark head dipping between her thighs. She needed this torture to end. Now. Derek might refuse to take his release, but she wasn’t nearly that proud. If she didn’t find satisfaction soon, she might expire from the blistering need. “Yes, Lieutenant. I only do what you tell me,” she whispered, knowing it would send him higher.

“Goddammit.” He ripped her hand free. “You’re lucky I’m dying for a f*cking taste, or I would spank your ass raw for that.”

“Lucky me,” she whispered, shivering with anticipation.

With a sound of blatant hunger, Derek dropped to his knees before her. He curled his hands beneath her knees and draped them over his broad shoulders, effortlessly supporting Ginger’s weight with his hands. Her panties were torn free. By his teeth? Hands? With her head lolling against the wall, eyes squeezed tightly shut, dying for that first lick, she couldn’t care less about his method.

His pressed his mouth to her core. She felt the vibration of his moan as he nuzzled her, his stubble scraping the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. Letting her weight rest on his shoulders, his hands were free to grasp her bottom, tilt her hips toward his mouth. “Soaked and slick, baby. Just how I like you.”

“Oh, please. Give it to me.” Too many sensations. Her nerve endings sizzled and snapped. The apartment blurred and tilted around them. “Derek. I can’t…”

She heard his dark laughter, then ceased to think altogether.

…

Derek sampled his woman with teasing licks, purposefully avoiding the tender spot dying for his attention. Fuck, she tasted like…Derek abandoned every adjective his lust-fogged brain could manage, discarding them as inadequate. She tasted like his. That’s what the f*ck she tasted like. When she screamed yes, yours above him, Derek realized he’d repeated his internal sentiment out loud. Good. She needed to be told regularly who she belonged to.

He continued to lap at her until her thighs squeezed his head. Until her whimpered words stopped making sense. Then, only then, did he relent, gently stabbing her clitoris with his tongue until she screamed, only to lick it soothingly, murmuring his praise, apologies, filthy words against her damp flesh.

He spread her thighs as far as they would go and fit his mouth snugly over her clit, sucking, rolling it on his tongue. Her hips writhed and bucked, trying to get closer, and he knew she was seconds away from her peak. Nails dug into his shoulders, his hair, as if not knowing where to settle. Her disjointed motions undid him. He’d driven her out of control of her own body. It exhilarated him every time. After one final, sweet suck, Derek pulled back slightly and circled his tongue over her spot once, twice, and felt her begin to shake. Desperate to taste the pleasure he’d wrought, he slid his tongue past her opening, groaning at the feel of her tightening on him.