He absorbed the tremors running through her. Determined to get her off. Needing to get her off. His fingers were coated with her cream and he stroked more fervently, until she tore her mouth from his and gasped.
“Oh, God.” Her nails dug into his nape. Her tremors turned into quaking.
“You’re so damn close.”
So damn fast.
“Yes.”
He quickened his pace, his fingers plunging deep, until he found the spot. And worked her feverishly.
“Michael.” Her head fell back; her eyelids fluttered closed. “Right there. Oh, God, yes. Just like that…”
He took the opportunity presented and his lips and tongue skated up the long column of her neck. In the far recesses of his mind, he cataloged every catch of her breath, the sweet taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her. The stimulating sound of her throaty moans.
He pumped a bit faster. The heel of his hand massaged her clit a bit harder. He sensed the moment she was about to come undone and nipped at her skin, just below her ear. Then murmured, “Lose it for me, baby.”
Her inner muscles clenched his fingers. She cried out.
“Oh, yeah,” he said on a low groan, everything inside him pulling so tight it was a wonder he didn’t erupt right along with her.
; Her pussy milked his fingers as she rode out the orgasm, clinging to him, her breaths mere whimpers of ecstasy.
“You’re driving me wild,” he told her.
When the quaking of her body eased into a mild tremble, he withdrew from her. Stepped away to get a grip on himself. His back pressed to the wall opposite her and he watched the blue and silver strobes reflect against her flushed skin as she fought for longer, steadier streams of air.
That she’d been so damn wet for him before he’d even touched her and had come so quickly made him even harder. Made him want to shove her skirt up and drive deep into her.
She seemed to know it. Closed the gap between them. As she stared up at him with lust in her eyes, her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt. Her fingers traced the grooves of his abdomen before her palms flattened against his solid muscles and slid upward to his chest.
Michael clasped her hips and lowered his head, drawing her into another sizzling kiss.
Her hands skimmed down his stomach again and around to his back, exploring liberally, getting him hotter, then splaying over his shoulder blades. He cupped her ass cheeks, kneading them as he rubbed his erection against her mound.
Christ, he needed to be inside her. And it wasn’t just to sate his own voracious sexual appetite. He desperately wanted to set her off again, with his cock thrusting into her until she fell apart and screamed his name as she came.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted a woman so badly, so urgently.
So when her palms slid away from his shoulders and her fingers toyed with the silver buckle on his belt, it took all the restraint Michael possessed to cover her hands with his to stop her.
Every fiber of his being burned to let her unfasten his jeans, to coax her to her knees in front of him and allow him to fuck her mouth, to have her swallow him down, drain him, quell the throbbing—the aching—between his legs and low in his gut.
But even that wouldn’t be enough. And he knew it.
Breaking their kiss, he told her, “Not here.”
He twined his fingers with hers and led her downstairs. She willingly followed, not even asking where they were going.
“Where’s your claim ticket?” His voice was gruff with the need clawing at him, shredding him from the inside out.
With her free hand, she retrieved the slip of paper from her purse and gave it to him. He collected her coat and helped her into the full-length garment. He tipped the check girl and then guided Scarlet out of the club. They walked the alley in silence and rounded the corner of the building. Took only a few steps before they reached the car waiting for him, provided by the Crestmont.
The driver was on the ball, catching sight of Michael in the rearview mirror and jumping out of the vehicle to open the back door just as Michael and his date reached it.
Scarlet eased onto the leather seat and Michael slipped in beside her.