Holiday Sparks - Page 29

He knelt between her thighs. “What?”

“I did not expect to do this tonight.” She tugged at his shirt until it came up over his head. He smiled down at her. Pale hair tumbled over his midnight-colored sheets. She smoothed her palm over his shoulders, down his arm that wasn’t inked and pulled his hand up to her face. Peach-soft skin filled his palm, demanding patience where he wanted only to take. She explored her way down his other arm, smoothing the pad of her thumb over the flames that exploded around his shoulder and down to the flashpoint where the tree sat, then down the serpentine body of the dragon that hugged his forearm. The tip of her nail traced the dragon tail that circled his wrist, the point accentuating the Chinese character that bloomed over the inside of his wrist in a deep red.

“What does this mean?”

“Hope.”

She looked up at him and drew her hands up to cup his face, pulling him down on top of her. The first contact of his skin to hers was so good he hissed out a groan. The tips of her breasts burned into his skin. She opened her legs, cradling him into her. He dug his knuckles into the mattress and lifted himself over her, undulating his hips against where his body wanted to go most.

She gripped his back, her fingertips tightening on his lower spine to draw him closer. Her deep green eyes were wide and so fucking innocent it made his chest ache. She trailed her nails around his belly. The tickle had him arching over her.

Then she levered herself up and flipped him, straddling his thighs with a wide smile. Her long, graceful fingers went to his belt. “The slow thing? Maybe when I’m not so wound up I could scream I’d appreciate it. But right now?” She flicked her tongue around his navel. “Can’t wait.”

His cock was pulsing with each pull of her fingers at his fly. His belly tightened as her cool fingers slid under the band of his boxers. He lifted his hips, groaning as she reached around and dragged his jeans and boxers down over his ass. She crawled backward and the tip of his cock grazed her cheek.

Fuck.

He was the one on his elbows now, staring down at her. The mass of her silky straight hair slid over her shoulder and tickled his thighs. “Christ, Darcy.”

Suddenly she turned around, straddling his thighs, facing his feet. She grinned over her shoulder. “Laces.”

He dropped back and threw an arm over his eyes. His cock was so fucking hard it pressed against his belly at an angle. He lifted his arm and peeked, groaning as her ass wiggled in her loosened jeans while she went at his double knots. He tried to move, tried to toe them off, but her hands braceleted his ankles.

“Patience.”

“Didn’t you just say you were done with the slow thing?”

“You playing it slow yes, me?” She flicked a smile at him. “I didn’t say anything about me taking my time.”

“I’m staring at your ass, and if you don’t finish with those laces I’m going to drag off your jeans and show you just why that position is a dangerous one.”

She rose onto her knees and he felt the coolness on his feet. He kicked off his jeans, slid his legs out from under her and gripped her hips. Instead of turning around, she pushed her jeans over her hips. “Why so dangerous, Ben?” The pink of her panties had a dark spot from how wet he’d gotten her downstairs. Trapped at her knees, her jeans wouldn’t go any farther unless she got off him. And that just wasn’t fucking happening.

He pushed aside the elastic leg and touched her. She gasped and stilled. Not enough, not nearly enough. He dragged her panties down and swore. Her pussy was wet and perfect and so goddamn tempting he wasn’t sure he could keep himself in check. The slope of her back, the dimples at each side, so many freckles he could spend a lifetime counting them.

“Darcy.”

She looked over her shoulder, her eyelids heavy and the green nearly obliterated by her pupils. Decision made, he reached back for his nightstand and found a condom. He slid his fingertips down her spine, ticking over each vertebra until her hips filled his palms. She arched under his touch, lifting herself to him.

Darcy’s thighs tingled and her breasts ached so much she had no choice but to cup them for relief. He tugged off her jeans. Never had she felt so overwhelmed within her own skin. It was as if he could reach inside her and manipulate every emotion, every trigger. And here, now—with herself on display for him—all she could concentrate on was him filling her. Filling her more than anyone else ever had.

She’d thought that this position would lessen the intimacy, break some of the stranglehold he seemed to have on her, but it was worse. So much worse. The heat of him behind her sucked the air out of her lungs. The rough hair of his thighs, the firm grip of his hands on her hips, the way he seemed to fill the room until all she could focus on was him.

She felt the blunt end of him against her.

Oh God.

He curled over her and slowly sank into her. Her thighs quaked and her wrists shook. He was everywhere. All around her and pushing out from within her. His arms curled around her belly and up to cup her breasts as he stayed there. So full she couldn’t take a breath. He tucked his chin into her neck and his shallow breaths matched her own as he slid out and back inside on a deep groan.

He stretched her up until only her knees supported her. She widened her stance and reached back for balance, gripping his neck, his hair—anything not to fall forward. Her back arched to accommodate the new position and keep him inside her. She felt displayed to the room. She opened her eyes and saw the mirror.

“Ben.”

His name was devoid of air. Instead her voice was only need. He was behind her, his dark eyes blazing with something she’d never seen before. She watched as his hands cupped her, tugging at her nipples lightly as he slowly pulsed inside her. Each thrust was shallow. As if he couldn’t bear to be away from her skin.

She lifted both arms over her head, his feathery soft hair sifting through her fingers. He invaded every one of her senses. Finally one hand traced down her ribs to the soft curve of her belly.

He scraped his teeth along her neck. The edge of his thumbnail rimmed her bellybutton. “I’m going to make it my mission in life to taste every freckle on your body.” His other hand lowered until both brushed the tops of her thighs and opened her even wider. She cried out.

Tags: Taryn Quinn Romance
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