Up in Smoke (Crossing the Line, #2)(22)

“Tell me you’ll spread your legs for it someday, Erin. Give me that.” He fisted his cock and pumped twice. “I can only fantasize about coming in your * so many times before I need the real thing. I bet you’re f*ck-tight, aren’t you? Like a closed fist.”

She poured more oil into her hands and rubbed them together. “Yes, I want very much to spread my legs for it someday.” Her voice was throaty, sexual. “And yes, baby, I’m nice and tight.”

He almost came. His erection throbbed in his hand, desperate and achy. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’m dying here.”

Her slick palms dragged up his thighs, leaving slippery oil in their wake. “No, you’re not dying yet. But you will be.”

She reached behind him and pushed open the bedroom door, gently nudging him backward with a single finger pressed to his chest. The backs of his knees hit the bed a moment later and he sat, mesmerized by the starvation in her eyes. He might be in excruciating physical pain, but it would take a cavalry of armed men to prevent him from seeing what she’d do next. His question was answered when she dropped her shorts, leaving her clad only in a black thong with the words “You Wish” written across the front. Goddamn right, he wished. Wished he was f*cking buried in her, pounding, teeth buried in her shoulder. “Take off your top for me. Let me see those sweet little nipples so I can imagine my mouth shining them up.”

She ran her hands up her thighs, across her belly, making them glisten. “Would you be happy only imagining it? I’m not so sure, so I think I’ll keep them covered.” With that same single finger, she urged him onto his back, showing no reaction to his miserable growl. “I’ll make it up to you, though. You see, I might have a problem being touched, but not touching. Rubbing. Or sucking.” She dragged her teeth over her lower lip and Connor’s head spun. “Hands over your head.”

He complied, anticipation tearing through his veins. She climbed on top of him, looking like a wicked fantasy, only no one could possibly dream her up. “God, I would punish that dick-tease of a body.”

“How?” She came down toward him, fusing their bodies together and sliding up. Connor bit his lip to keep from shouting at the sensation of her curves slipping over him. “Would you punish me with your hands?”

“I leave bruises, but not with my fists. Never, Erin.” He spoke through gritted teeth as she writhed on top of him, straddling him and running her thighs up the sides of his body. “But when I got hard, I’d be f*cking you against the first available surface and your ass would bear the impact. That’s where you’d bruise. And looking at what I’d done would only make me hard again.”

Finally, her silk-covered * settled over his cock and she gave a quick buck of her hips, bringing his back off the bed with a groan. “You’re a very naughty boy, Connor. I don’t know if you deserve my mouth on you. Convince me.”

Fuuuck. He could do it so easily with the use of his hands. His mouth. Just spread her thighs open and lick her clit until she was begging to return the favor. Instinctually he knew that would be her way. A woman who didn’t like to think she owed a man anything. I’ll make it worth your while. As soon as they cleared a few hurdles, and he had to keep faith that they would, he’d cleanse her of the misconception that she was obligated to reciprocate every time he made her come. She’d never get off her knees if that were the case. They would make some headway and then he’d show her, precisely and often.

Right now, though, he’d been reduced to words, unable to communicate through the use of touch. He sensed this was important to her, showing she could give him pleasure to replace the pain of not touching her. To show she had something to give, not realizing he’d seen that the moment they met. But God, at the very suggestion of her pouty lips working his cock, his erection had strained hot and needy against his stomach. Dying for her to follow through. No way to be rational now.

“Come on, sweetheart. Wrap your lips around it. Give me what I need so badly.” He lifted his hips to rub his erection against her core. She gasped and fell forward, catching herself by planting her palms on his chest. Her nails dug into his pecs and he gave a satisfied curse. “Put your sweet ass up in the air while you mouth-f*ck me, too. Let me imagine I’m getting that next. Let me imagine I’m about to flip you around, shove your thong out of my goddamn way and fill up that tight *.”

Erin’s breath had grown labored, but she continued to undulate on top of him, running shaky hands over his chest and abs, sliding through the oil with her belly and thighs. “That’s pretty damn convincing, baby.”

“Need more?”

“No,” she breathed. “Any more and I might let you try. It’s too s—”

“Shhh.” He levered himself up to capture her mouth, taking it in a slick, suggestive kiss. His tongue mimicked the act he’d just described to her, sinking in and out, pushing a little deeper each time. They moaned into each other’s mouths and Erin started circling her hips on his lap like a sexy little machine, making him so hard, he questioned if he could survive it. When he released her mouth so she could breathe, her eyes were unclear, but there was a quality of desperation in them.

“I like the way you talk to me.” She slid down his torso and knelt between his thighs. “Keep doing it. Don’t stop.” The vision of her almost sent him past the breaking point. Thighs covered in oil, lips plumped from their kiss, hair tangled around her face, she was a f*cking goddess. Her gaze was riveted between his thighs, almost reverently. Her hands climbed up his legs, higher and higher until she wrapped one hand around his cock.