Sweet Sinful Nights(66)



She let the blanket fall off her. She opened her legs. And she stopped talking about the two of them in the third person. “I wish you were here right now, Brent,” she said as she unzipped her jeans and pushed them down to her knees.

He groaned, a deep, throaty rumble that gave away all his desire, too. “I want that so much. I want you so much.”

“I want you even more than I did before. It’s crazy how much I want you,” she said, wriggling on the couch as she dropped her hand inside her panties. Her fingers slid easily between her legs, to the wetness waiting for her touch. A fresh wave of heat raced across her skin as she touched herself, gliding her fingers through all that hot desire for him.

“I don’t even know how to get through the next thirty-six hours till I can have my hands on you,” he said, huskily. “I have to have you again.”

“You will have me. I want you to have me. All of me,” she said, her breathing speeding up, her voice turning feathery. Her body tingled everywhere.

“Where is your hand right now?”

She closed her eyes and stroked her slick heat. She moaned as her fingers rubbed her swollen clit. “Between my legs. Where I want you to be.”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Are they spread for me? So I can prop them up on my shoulders and take you deep?”

A rush of heat swooped through her. “Yes. I love it when you do that.” She let her knees fall open wider. “You can take me any way you want.”

His voice turned dirtier, harsher. “I’d like to flip you over. Put you on your hands and knees. Watch you raise that perfect f*cking ass for me. Slide into you. Bury myself in you.”

She could hear his breath growing faster. “Is your hand on your dick?”

“I’m doing exactly what I stopped last night.”

“Don’t stop now. Finish this time. Finish and I will, too,” she said on a pant as she writhed into her own touch, wishing it was him, imagining he was touching her, tasting her, f*cking her into blissful oblivion.

“You better finish. You better finish because I love hearing you come. I always finish you,” he said, and she moaned loudly, like she was singing a hot, sultry chorus to a song.

That song was his name, and it tumbled from her lips as desire climbed faster up her spine. “I love being on my hands and knees for you. I want you to put me there. Or bend me over the couch. Whatever you want, just please do it to me. Please. I love it all with you,” she said, as her fingers flew across her heat. She loved everything with him, every position, every moment, every touch, and every taste. Especially because he liked to dominate her, and she craved that. She hungered for the ways he needed to take her.

“Say that again. Say please again. I love it when you beg for it.”

She arched her back, thrusting into her fingers. “Please, Brent. Please make me come. I want to come all over you.”

He groaned, a feral sound, and she heard his breath hitch. He was close, too. “I’m going to make you come so hard. I want to feel you come all over my cock. I want you to lose control all over me, and scream my name so loud you go hoarse,” he said, and she imagined his big hand flying over his cock. Gripping himself. Tugging hard and rough and fast.

And she broke. She soared. She rode her own fingers shamelessly as she screamed his name, like he wanted, like he needed. “Brent.”

“Yeah, just like that. Just like that,” he said, then his words turned into growls that seemed to rip from his throat. The sound of his pleasure tore through her body, igniting her once more, sending her into another powerful climax, as she cried out once again.

*

He could picture her on her couch, all blissed out and sated, her skin glowing, her hair a wild tumble, fanned out across the pillows. There was no better image in the world. No better sound than her voice as she murmured, “Have I mentioned I can’t wait to see you?”

“Yes, and you can say it again. Because I like hearing it.”

“Can’t wait to see you,” she repeated.

“The next time I see you, I’m going to make you mine.”

“I’m already yours. I swear, I am.”

They were talking about sex, and f*cking, but they were talking about so much more. The fact that she’d shared her worries about her family meant the world to him. She trusted him again, opening her heart to the things that were hard for her, and that was a precious gift, one he intended to always treat with care. He wanted to be there for her for all her needs—the physical, but also the emotional.

He sighed. Happily. So damn happily. “I told you I’m easy. Because you’re all I want.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR


The lithe, pretzel-like redhead swung upside down on the gauzy, cherry red swath of fabric that hung from the ceiling of Edge. Her hair spilled below her, like a sheet of fire, as she held on with only one ankle twisted round the cloth.

As lush music pulsed, she twirled in gorgeous split-second circles, along with three other girls. They were silvery and shimmery in their costumes, and captivating with their contortionist-esque skills.

Shannon zoomed in on the foursome with her phone camera, capturing the finale of the dress rehearsal. She choreographed custom shows for every venue, even though she knew that the crowds didn’t come to Edge specifically to watch the dance. People came to the club for drinks, to meet lovers, to party with friends, to let loose and spend a night on the town. The dance show was staged to blend into the background most of the time, like beautiful art on the walls, like sensual music that thrummed through you. The dancers were part of the ambience of the club along with the smoky violet lights, the sleek decor, and the pulsing music.

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