Burned Deep (Burned 1)

He uncrossed my legs and parted them slightly. Then he eased off the other shoe and rubbed that foot. I came alive under his touch, the thrumming turning into a sharp throb.

“Dane,” I whispered. That word was the most I could get out, because a lust-induced haze clouded my thoughts. And I was breathless once more.

He glanced up at me and the need I felt must have been reflected in my eyes. His jaw clenched briefly. He stopped what he was doing and pulled apart the ends of his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, yanking the tails from his pants.

I took in his sculpted chest, so beautifully defined with hard pecs that rose above ripped abs. All that tanned skin. Jesus, he was stunning.

Without a word and without breaking our eye contact, he reached for the clutch I’d pretty much mutilated with my death grip. He pried it from my hands and set it aside. Then his palms splayed over the tops of my thighs and he pushed my skirt up. I lifted off the seat and he bunched the material at my hips.

He spread my legs wider and wedged himself into the vee they created. One arm snaked around my waist and he tugged me closer to him, so that my satin-covered sex pressed firmly against the corrugated grooves of his stomach. The aggressive move and erotic touch jolted me.

I grasped the edge of the seat with both hands on either side of us. His hands moved over me, up to my breasts. He squeezed them roughly, enough to convey his desire and spark a frenzy of excitement.

He leaned close and his mouth swept over the rounded tops cresting the tight bodice of my dress.

“You smell like rain and sex,” he rumbled against my skin.

My hips jerked at his words.

“That’s it,” he murmured, softly kissing his way up to my neck. “Rub your pussy against my stomach.”

His hands slid around to my back and then lower to clasp my hips. He guided me into a slow, sultry rhythm that had me grinding against his muscles, the satin swath of my thong slipping and sliding along my swollen folds and clit.

“Dane … Oh, Christ.” Heat flared between my legs. My inner thighs quivered. My belly tensed and released as the feel of solid, rippled sinew caressed the heart of me, pushing me up, up, up …

He found a particularly tender spot just below my ear and pressed his tongue against it, then nipped gently.

“Oh. Oh, God.” My head fell back on my shoulders and he continued the delicious torment.

“You’re wet for me,” he said against my throat. One of his hands relinquished my hip and he reached between us to whisk aside the triangle. Then his flesh was against mine and I let out a small cry at the velvety feel of skin that covered his steel abs. I writhed on the seat, rubbing against him as heat and sensation swelled in my core.

“That feels so good,” I said on a sharp breath.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

I did as instructed. Leading me, he picked up the pace.

I panted in harsh rasps of air. “I’m going to come.”

A low growl escaped him. “You make me so damn hard.”

His teeth grazed my earlobe, biting lightly.

“Fuck. Oh … yes … oh … oh, God…” The swelling expanded and exploded. I called out, “Dane!” as fire blazed through me, consumed me. My fingertips pressed into the leather. My inner walls clenched as I held on to the orgasm, prolonging it, savoring it. Vibrating from it.

“I like hearing my name on your lips,” he said as he kissed my neck. “Now I want to hear you beg. For me.”

chapter 8

He released my hips, shifted away. Dane sank into the seat across from me and our gazes locked. I could barely breathe and my pulse jumped in wild beats. But I hadn’t missed a single word he’d said.

Reaching for a packet of Wet-Naps on the bar, he wiped his hands. Not his stomach. That sent more zings through my body than I could process all at once.

“Are you a virgin, Ari?”

“Of course not.” My chest rose and fell sharply with my rash breathing.

He dragged his gaze from mine and it flashed to my fingers, still grasping the edge of the seat. His eyes lifted to my face. “Did someone hurt you?”