he said. “Burn my initials right into your
skin.”
His voice was dark and
rough. The thought of being branded made me shiver. “You’d do
that?” I asked in a broken whisper.
“When I want
something bad enough, I take it.”
He wasn’t kidding. He
wouldn’t even wait to take what he wanted on a bed. A kitchen
counter would do, with dirty dishes stacked up and a mad dog on the
loose.
“They don’t make
women like you,” he growled. “You’re something special, and I’m
going to taste all of you.”
Pulling out of me, he
dropped to his knees and covered my ass with kisses and bites just
hard enough to give me chills. I gasped when I felt his tongue rasp
between my cheeks, licking me from wet pussy to ass again and again
as if he’d never tasted anything so delicious.
Whatever had happened
to me, at least I’d lived long enough to experience this naughty
moment of rapture. “I love that,” I whispered.
“Not nearly as much
as I do,” Drex said. “You’re fucking delicious. I could lick
you for days.”
Considering how
exquisite it felt, days sounded just about perfect. I curved my lower
back and went up on my toes, shamelessly giving him access to all of
me. “You have an amazing tongue,” I said.
“You have an amazing
ass,” he said. “And I want to see it on the dining room table
right now.”
With one last lick, he
stood and zipped his pants. “Come on,” he said, turning me by the
shoulder. “I’m feeling very impatient tonight.”
I stepped out of the
shorts, leaving them in a nylon puddle on the kitchen floor. Feeling
his eyes all over me, I walked naked toward into the dining room. He
switched on the chandelier, bathing the room in soft, golden light.
“Do as I said,” he
commanded.
The table was a long,
rectangular antique, more than sturdy enough to hold both of us. I
brushed back a strand of hair and saw my ring glint out of the corner
of my eye. There it was again, almost too easy to ignore.
It’s
not gold. There’s no inscription. I don’t have an engagement
ring. And I sure don’t feel married.
“On the table,”
Drex said brusquely.
“But – it’s set
for six people,” I said.
He gave me a puzzled
frown. “And that’s a problem how?”
With one sweep of his
powerful arm, he knocked two place settings onto the floor. Glasses
and silverware and charger plates crashed against the hardwood,
shattering and clattering with a deafening clang. Deliberately, with
a sexy smirk, he went around to the other side of the table and did
it again. Then he walked to each head and pushed everything off with
an expression of absolute calm.
The candlesticks hadn’t
even finished rolling before he barked another order. “On the
table, now. You’ve got no more excuses.”
I stared at him in
fascination. It was possible that all men were this dominant and
demanding, but I didn’t think so. Six drunk Bandidos couldn’t
have been so iron-handed.
I heard the strains of
slow salsa music from the radio on the terrace as I sat. Way out here
and buck naked, I was hardly in a position to negotiate.
“Okay?” I asked.
“It’s okay, but
it’s not enough,” he said. “Lie down.”
I did. The wood was
smooth and cool against my skin, and hard against the back of my
head.
Boots knocking, he
walked over and stood in front of me. “Heels up.”
“What are you going
to do?” I asked, balancing my feet on the table’s edge.
“Whatever pleases
me,” he said. “And I promise it’ll please you, too.”
With a slow smile, he
started taking off his clothes. I’d felt his chest through his
shirt when we were kissing, but I hadn’t seen it. He took his time,
watching my face to gauge my reaction as each button showed another
glimpse of smooth, hard, carved muscle.
He slipped the shirt
over one shoulder, then the other, and tossed it aside.
“God,” I breathed.
This was the male ideal
– mine, anyway – and he was coming straight for me, pulling his
belt from his
skin.”
His voice was dark and
rough. The thought of being branded made me shiver. “You’d do
that?” I asked in a broken whisper.
“When I want
something bad enough, I take it.”
He wasn’t kidding. He
wouldn’t even wait to take what he wanted on a bed. A kitchen
counter would do, with dirty dishes stacked up and a mad dog on the
loose.
“They don’t make
women like you,” he growled. “You’re something special, and I’m
going to taste all of you.”
Pulling out of me, he
dropped to his knees and covered my ass with kisses and bites just
hard enough to give me chills. I gasped when I felt his tongue rasp
between my cheeks, licking me from wet pussy to ass again and again
as if he’d never tasted anything so delicious.
Whatever had happened
to me, at least I’d lived long enough to experience this naughty
moment of rapture. “I love that,” I whispered.
“Not nearly as much
as I do,” Drex said. “You’re fucking delicious. I could lick
you for days.”
Considering how
exquisite it felt, days sounded just about perfect. I curved my lower
back and went up on my toes, shamelessly giving him access to all of
me. “You have an amazing tongue,” I said.
“You have an amazing
ass,” he said. “And I want to see it on the dining room table
right now.”
With one last lick, he
stood and zipped his pants. “Come on,” he said, turning me by the
shoulder. “I’m feeling very impatient tonight.”
I stepped out of the
shorts, leaving them in a nylon puddle on the kitchen floor. Feeling
his eyes all over me, I walked naked toward into the dining room. He
switched on the chandelier, bathing the room in soft, golden light.
“Do as I said,” he
commanded.
The table was a long,
rectangular antique, more than sturdy enough to hold both of us. I
brushed back a strand of hair and saw my ring glint out of the corner
of my eye. There it was again, almost too easy to ignore.
It’s
not gold. There’s no inscription. I don’t have an engagement
ring. And I sure don’t feel married.
“On the table,”
Drex said brusquely.
“But – it’s set
for six people,” I said.
He gave me a puzzled
frown. “And that’s a problem how?”
With one sweep of his
powerful arm, he knocked two place settings onto the floor. Glasses
and silverware and charger plates crashed against the hardwood,
shattering and clattering with a deafening clang. Deliberately, with
a sexy smirk, he went around to the other side of the table and did
it again. Then he walked to each head and pushed everything off with
an expression of absolute calm.
The candlesticks hadn’t
even finished rolling before he barked another order. “On the
table, now. You’ve got no more excuses.”
I stared at him in
fascination. It was possible that all men were this dominant and
demanding, but I didn’t think so. Six drunk Bandidos couldn’t
have been so iron-handed.
I heard the strains of
slow salsa music from the radio on the terrace as I sat. Way out here
and buck naked, I was hardly in a position to negotiate.
“Okay?” I asked.
“It’s okay, but
it’s not enough,” he said. “Lie down.”
I did. The wood was
smooth and cool against my skin, and hard against the back of my
head.
Boots knocking, he
walked over and stood in front of me. “Heels up.”
“What are you going
to do?” I asked, balancing my feet on the table’s edge.
“Whatever pleases
me,” he said. “And I promise it’ll please you, too.”
With a slow smile, he
started taking off his clothes. I’d felt his chest through his
shirt when we were kissing, but I hadn’t seen it. He took his time,
watching my face to gauge my reaction as each button showed another
glimpse of smooth, hard, carved muscle.
He slipped the shirt
over one shoulder, then the other, and tossed it aside.
“God,” I breathed.
This was the male ideal
– mine, anyway – and he was coming straight for me, pulling his
belt from his
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