He brought his face nearer to hers, eyes darkening as his pupils expanded. His hand continued to knead her breast, obliterating her ability to think. “Anything you want it to look like. Anything,” he repeated and lowered his mouth to hers. So soft, so mobile. The kiss, upside down, inverted, sent her head spinning. She lifted a hand and pressed it to his jaw. To anchor him. To anchor her. Their tongues tangled. His lips consumed. And then, sweet Jesus, his teeth. When he eased back a fraction to let her breathe, he sank his teeth into her upper lip, just firmly enough to make her nerve endings flare. Heat zinged through her—a straight shot from her lip to her core, with a quick, lethal twist low in her stomach.
She groaned, and he very purposefully devoured the vulnerable flesh until it ached. At a point just short of her begging for mercy, he moved on to her lower lip. She endured the sweet torture as long as possible, but her body grew hot and restless. She ran the soles of her feet over the cushions, seeking leverage, and buried her fingers in his hair, seeking control.
He wouldn’t be controlled, apparently, because he continued on his merry way and scored his incisors along her chin.
“Anything, choux,” he said against her throat. “What can I do to convince you?”
“Nothing,” she gasped and arched her spine, a little desperate to have his mouth on the nipple he’d provoked to a painful crest.
He drew away so suddenly she almost cried out. The hand on her breast stilled. An undefinable expression shuttered the face looming over hers. “Is that a challenge, choux? Because I’m not gonna give up. I’ll convince you.”
Confused and needy, she replayed their conversation in her mind and realized he’d misunderstood her response. He’d taken her “nothing” to mean there was nothing he could do to convince her. But before she could formulate an explanation, he went on. “I’ve got you partway convinced already.” He shifted, came up onto all fours above her, and braced his hands by her hips, resting his forehead against her upraised thighs. “I’ve got your pussy convinced this doesn’t have to end. You know I do.”
His breath fanned down between her legs, and her absolutely convinced pussy quivered in anticipation of his mouth. “Swain…”
“Shush. I’m not going to argue.” With that, he flipped her skirt up, lowered his head, and tongued her through her panties. Her legs went boneless, and her thighs splayed open.
“Swain!”
“I’m not talking to you, Eden. Not listening to a word that comes out of your lying mouth. I know where I can get an honest response.” Her panties dug into her skin for a second, then gave way with a brisk tear. He put his mouth to work on her, and any response became impossible. His urgent lips and demanding tongue reduced her to a writhing, whimpering, wholly inarticulate recipient of frustrated male persuasion. The man put his entire body into tongue-lashing her pussy. Above her, his hips rocked, twisted, and danced the cock-strained fly of his jeans tantalizingly close to her face as he delved, retreated, changed angles, and delved again, doling out more of his highly addictive arguments. Her empty mouth filled with saliva. Her gently abused lips tingled for harsher treatment and unrestrained friction.
She wanted it. “Swain!” This time she didn’t wait for an answer, simply hooked her fingers into the waist of his jeans and began wrestling his buttons open. “Swain,” she panted, “you really are a cooyon if you think I need any convincing.”
He stilled. “You said ‘nothing.’”
She used his stillness to part his fly. His cock, unhampered by underwear, bobbed out to slap her cheek. Now it was his turn to groan. “I meant there was nothing you needed to do to convince me, though I sincerely appreciate all this effort.” Ready to return some, she ran the tip of her tongue from the base of his cock to the flare along the underside of the head.
“Fuck me,” he breathed, then quickly shimmied his hips and dragged his jeans down so his balls weren’t trapped inside a denim prison. “I…uh…I owe you a pair of panties, choux.”
“I owe you this.” Taking hold of his jutting shaft, she manhandled it away from his abdomen—
“Go easy…”
And slid it between her lips.
“Damn it, Eden. Damn it.” His hips jerked forward, like a startled animal running the wrong way, then back, and then stabilized directly above her. “That hurts. So. Good.”
He punctuated each word with a short, measured thrust. She couldn’t respond, except to reach around and get a two-handed hold on his ass—a hold somewhat hampered by the wrist splint, but a hold nonetheless, since he wasn’t trying to shake her off. Not even when she menaced him with a roving finger. Her sense of triumph lasted a moment, until he warned, “Two can play that game, choux,” and took a similar hold on her, meting out a similar threat. “Your call.”
But his cock pulsed in her mouth, and the hint of his orgasm already laced her saliva. Mutually assured destruction? They’d see about that. She pressed his hips down and lifted her chin at the same time. His choked curse told her everything she needed to know. He might have her pinned under him, but she had the advantage. Had it and wasn’t above using it. And using it. She kept right on using it until he jerked his head up, leaving her drenched and unattended, only to sink his teeth into her inner thigh and come with a long shudder and a low groan of surrender.
She took it all, eagerly, holding him fast with hands and mouth as her throat worked, groaning herself when he slowly withdrew from between her lips.
“Well, okay then,” he said in a thick voice. “I’m glad we got that settled.”
She patted his ass. “Me, too.” Her inner muscles twitched from deprivation, but her l
ips curved into a smile. Satisfaction took many forms. “I could use a shower.”
He laughed. “Hell no, choux. You made your bed.” He lowered his head as he spoke, and his breath became a billion feathers teasing her most overstimulated parts. “You’re just going to have to lie in it a little while longer.”
He proceeded to prove paybacks were, indeed, hell. The hottest, deepest, sweetest hell she’d ever known.
…
Swain jolted awake with a suffocating sound stuck in his throat, darkness all around, and the phantom ache of broken bones throbbing in his ribs and arm.
“Shhh.” A cool hand stroked his back. A husky voice whispered, “You’re okay.”