Immortal in Death (In Death 3) - Page 54

‘Damn right. I won.’ She cocked her head and reached down to strip off his shirt. ‘Cooperate and I won’t have to hurt you. Uh-uh.’ When he reached for her, she gripped his hands and pushed them back to the mat. ‘I’m in charge here. Don’t make me get out the cuffs.’

‘Hmm. An interesting threat. Why don’t you—’ His words trailed off as her mouth came down on his, hard and hot. Instinctively, his hands flexed under hers, wanting to touch, to take. But he understood she wanted something else, something more. So he would let her find it.

‘I’m going to take you.’ She bit down on his lip, sending an edge of lust razoring through his gut. ‘Do whatever I want to you.’

His mind was already spinning, his breath clogging. ‘Be gentle with me,’ he managed, and felt warmth twine with the heat when she laughed.

‘Dream on.’

She was rough - quick, demanding hands, impatient, restless lips. He could all but feel the wildness of her need vibrate from her, shimmer into him with some reckless energy that seemed to feed on itself. If she wanted control, he would give it to her. Or so he thought. But somewhere during her onslaught of his system, he simply lost the choice.

She scraped her teeth over him, down him, until the muscles he had toned trembled helplessly. His vision wavered when she took him into her mouth, worked him hard, fast, so that he had to fight every instinct or explode.

‘Don’t you hold back on me.’ She nipped his thigh, slid her way back up his torso while her hand replaced her mouth. ‘I want to make you come.’ She sucked his tongue into her mouth, bit, released. ‘Now.’

She watched his eyes go opaque seconds before she felt the orgasm rip through him. Her laugh was shaky with power as she assaulted his ear. ‘I won again.’

‘Jesus. Christ Jesus.’ He managed, barely, to wind his arms around her. He was weak as a baby, and tangled with embarrassment at his complete loss of control was a giddy delight. ‘I don’t know whether to apologize or thank you.’

‘Save it. I haven’t finished with you yet.’

He nearly chuckled, but she was nibbling her way around his jaw and sending fresh signals to his battered system. ‘Darling, you’ll have to give me a minute.’

‘I don’t have to do anything.’ She was drunk on pleasure, energized by her own power. ‘You just have to take it.’

Straddling him, she pulled her shirt over her head. Watching him, she skimmed her hands up her own torso, over her breasts and down again. Saliva pooled in his mouth. Smiling, she took his hands and brought them to her. With a sigh, she let her eyes close.

His touch was familiar now, yet always fresh. Constantly arousing. His fingers played over her, teasing her nipples until they were hot and on the point of pain, then tugging until there was an answering clutch in her center.

Obliging them both, she arched back as he reared up to cover her with his mouth. She cupped his head, let herself become steeped in the sensations - the scrape of teeth on sensitized flesh that ran from tender to brutal, the flex and release of his fingers on her hips, the slick slide of flesh against flesh and the hot, ripe smell of sweat and sex. And when she urged his mouth back to hers, the explosive taste of reckless lust.

He made a sound caught between a groan and an oath when she pulled away. She rose quickly, delighted to find herself shaky on her feet, her body heavy with need. She didn’t have to tell him it had never been - she had never been like this with anyone but him. He knew it already. Just as she had come to know that he found more with her, somehow with her, than with anyone else.

She stood over him, no longer trying to level her breathing, no longer shocked by the shudders that coursed through her. She toed off her shoes, unhooked her trousers, let them fall away.

Heat swamped her as his eyes skimmed up, then down, then up again to her face. She’d never thought much about her body. It was a cop’s body, and had to be strong, resilient, flexible. With Roarke she’d discovered how wonderful those aspects could be for a woman. Trembling a little, she planted a knee on either side of him, then leaned forward to lose herself in the giddy pleasure of mouth on mouth.

‘I’m still in charge,’ she whispered as she rose up.

With his eyes burning into hers, he smiled. ‘Do your worst.’

She lowered herself to him, took him into her slowly, torturously. And when he was deep, when her body went rigid, bowed back, she let out a shuddering sob as the first glorious orgasm rippled through her. Greedy, she lunged forward again, gripped his hands with hers, and began to ride.

Explosions burst in her head, in her blood. Behind her closed eyes, riotous colors danced, and there was nothing inside her but Roarke and a desperate need for more of him - still more of him. Climax slammed into climax, slapping her up before she was able to float down again. The grinding ache in her was met, then built again until at last her body slid limply down to his. She buried her face against his throat and waited for sanity to return.

‘Eve?’

‘Huh?’

‘My turn.’

She blinked groggily as he rolled her onto her back. It took her a second to realize he was still hard inside her. ‘I thought you’d - we’d—’

‘You had,’ he murmured. He watched fresh, stunning pleasure flicker over her face as he moved inside her. ‘Now you just have to take it.’

She started to laugh, but it ended on a moan. ‘We’ll kill each other if we keep this up.’

‘I’ll risk it. No, don’t close your eyes. See me.’ He watched those eyes glaze as he quickened the pace, heard her strangled cry as he drove himself deeper, deeper inside her.

Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery
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