“Do you want to be fucked nicely?” he asked, his voice tight. “Or do you want to be fucked hard?”
His words conjured all sorts of images, every one of them dirty and wonderful. She’d never had a man ask her if she wanted to be fucked hard before. Usually, it just . . . happened. There was no dirty talk. No wicked words whispered in her ear. She’d had no idea just hearing Lane say the word fuck would have such an effect on her.
His blunt words made her weak. Made her wet. Made her hot—all at once.
“Well? Tell me what you want, Dee.” He touched her face with his fingertips, his hand curving around her cheek, tilting her head up so their gazes locked. “This is why I don’t think I’m the man for you.”
She frowned, confused by his words. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you deserve romance and flowers and quiet dinner dates and heart-shaped candy. All I can offer you are a few stolen nights here and there and hard, dirty fucks. That’s all I can give, Dee. I’m not a romantic man, never have been. I don’t believe in hearts and flowers and love and poems and all that other bullshit. I like sex. I can’t deny that I want to have sex with you. But it won’t amount to much more than that.” A flicker of unease appeared in his eyes when he finished his speech. One moment it was there, the next moment gone.
Delilah released a shuddering breath, opening her mouth to answer as he cut her off.
“I’m a possessive man too, so if we’re going to do this, you can’t be fucking around with someone else. If you start liking some other guy, tell me and we’ll end it.” There was that uneasy flicker in his eyes again. Like he didn’t enjoy admitting that last part.
But she loved that admission. A shiver moved down her spine at his choice of words. What would it mean to be so completely possessed by Lane that he wouldn’t dare let another man touch what he claimed as his? Oh, she liked the thought of belonging to Lane. Probably a little too much.
“I would never go after some other guy while I’m . . . involved with you.” She didn’t finish what she wanted to say. How there had never really been any other man but Lane. How she couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else once she had him. That she’d wished for this moment for so long, she could hardly believe it was happening.
If anything was ever going to actually, you know, happen. What else could she do to make Lane see just how good they could be together?
She reached for him, her fingers grazing the front of his shorts, the length of his erection, and he jerked away from her touch as if she’d burned him.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned, and she began to laugh.
“How much more obvious can I be, Lane? I’m on my knees in front of you, completely naked, and I just begged you to fuck me. What more do you want from me?”
He didn’t answer. At least not with words. Instead he leaned down and scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing, holding her close for a moment, like he didn’t want to let her go.
And then she was falling, falling. A little shriek escaped her as she bounced on the mattress, her hands pressed against the cool cotton comforter to brace herself. “Lane, what are you . . . ” Her voice dwindled to nothing when Lane ripped off his T-shirt and shoved off his shorts, revealing his very thick, very erect cock.
Oh. Wow.
They were naked together and they’d hardly kissed.
Licking her lips, she backed up on the giant bed until she was lying against the pillows, her eyes going wide when he came toward her, his hungry gaze zeroed in on her and nothing else.
“I’d be an idiot to push you away now,” he murmured as he crawled right over her, his arms and legs caging her in, his face in hers. “I think we’ve both known this was going to happen eventually.”
She nodded, her throat dry as sand.
“You’re so damn beautiful.” He nuzzled the side of her face with his nose and her eyes fell shut, savoring his words, the way he touched her. “You want this, don’t you, Delilah?”
“Oh my God, stop talking.” She grabbed hold of his face, her palms flat against his cheeks as she pulled him to her, their mouths brushing. “Kiss me, Lane. Touch me. Please.”
He smiled. “You’re begging again.”
Desperate measures and all that. “Isn’t that what you wanted? I’ll beg some more if it will make you stop talking and start doing.” She started to kiss him but he broke away from her, his breath already coming fast.
“Once I start, I’m afraid I might not stop,” he said.
“Perfect,” she said just before she forced his lips back to hers.
Lane didn’t pull away. He didn’t stop kissing her either. Instead his mouth became urgent. Insistent. She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him on top of her, but he braced his elbows on the bed, keeping his weight off her.
She wanted to feel him though. Wanted his hard, heavy body to press her into the mattress. Wanted to feel his cock against her belly, wanted to swallow his groans and touch him in a way that made him go wild. She wanted it all.
“Jesus, Dee,” he muttered when she curled her fingers around his length and gripped him tight. “I’m gonna come all over your hand if you don’t watch it.”