“Yes.” Her trembling increased, making her clumsy.
When the bra at last sagged open, freeing those lush morsels from their prison, revealing her berry-pink ni**les, he leaned forward, as if in a trance. He flicked one with his tongue, then fit his mouth around it and sucked. Her hands once again made their way around him, holding him close … closer.
There was no woman more perfect. Lust incarnate, that’s what Noelle was, her groans swiftly becoming cries. He’d begun the day desperate to avoid her, yet now he was desperate to have her.
“I want to see you, too,” she said. “All of you.”
“Not yet.” He switched his attention to her other nipple, paying it the same homage, worshipping with his tongue, his teeth. Twice he found himself reaching up, his hands curving to fit against the plump mounds of her br**sts, but both times he caught himself in time.
“Want to touch you, too.” A needy whimper from her.
“Not yet.” A groan. The burning climbed another degree, and soon thin plumes of dark smoke were curling from them, wafting to his nose. Shit. Fuck. Not here, not now. He pulled away from Noelle, stood. Shit, he raged again, even as he pulled the gloves from his pocket and slid them in place.
Noelle’s moan of disappointment echoed from the walls, and he had to brace herself against the bed to remain upright. “Are we… done?”
Never had a woman looked sexier while pouting. “No.” Please, no. “Can you stand?” he asked, his voice so guttural and raw he was almost embarrassed.
“Let’s see.” She pushed to her feet, wavered as a tremor racked her entire body, but she didn’t fall. “I’m good.”
He wanted her better than good. “Take off your panties.”
Her pupils gobbled up her irises as she obeyed. “So forceful. I like you this way.”
“Weapons, too.” She had blades strapped to her thighs. She also sported an ankle holster, and the weapon inside did not appear to be a regulation pyregun. What it was, though, he couldn’t tell.
Within seconds, she was completely naked. And f**k. He could blow his load just looking at her. Those more-than-a-handful br**sts, that slightly concave stomach, those wonderfully toned legs.
“I want to see you now,” she whispered. “All of you. You promised.”
“I thought I could … hoped … but I can’t. If I take off my pants, I’ll be inside you.”
Her gaze zeroed in on his zipper, her tongue peeking out to lick her lips. “And that’s a bad thing?”
In a lot of ways, yes, but rather than ruin the moment and explain, he said, “Lay down, Noelle. Please. And keep your ass at the edge of the mattress.”
“Your kinkiness is a very nice surprise, too,” she said as she complied. Her legs were closed and now dangled over the side of the bed, shielding her feminine core from his view.
Once again he fell to his knees. “Put your feet on my shoulders, as close to my face as you can get them.”
A moment of silence, of inactivity. Then, “Wh—what are you going to do to me?”
“I’m going to eat you up.” Exactly as he’d dreamed of doing for months. In fact, a few mornings he’d even woken up already seconds away from release, because he’d devoured her in his dreams.
“Oh, God,” she gasped out, and he knew his crudeness had ramped up her arousal.
First one leg, then the other, and then her feet were in place, anchored on his shoulders, and her knees open, his gaze enraptured by the new center of his world. The sweetness of her feminine musk drifted to his nose, and he breathed deeply, savoring. She was pink and wet, and so pretty he wanted to move in and stay forever.
Only a thin strip of hair covered her, like a treasure map to her core. And he’d thought her pout sexy. This was the sexiest f**king thing he’d ever seen. He leaned in … closer … closer still … He’d never done this before and didn’t want to mess up. Wanted to do it right, make it good for her.
No, he reminded himself. Better than good.
The savageness of his instincts wouldn’t allow him to hesitate for long. Desperate to taste her, he licked his way to the treasure in question, the sweetest honey filling his mouth. A scream tore from her throat as her hips shot off the mattress. She liked, then. Well, he loved. And with a groan of pleasure, he buried his face and did as he’d promised.
He licked and he sucked and he nibbled. He consumed. She writhed. She gasped his name. She begged. She pleaded. She cursed him. She prayed for mercy. He never stopped, could never have stopped. This was heaven, pure and simple.
Again he found himself reaching for her, his fingers wanting inside her so badly they ached with the same raging desire as his cock. Again he caught himself just in time. Mine, mine, mine. All mine. Will protect, even from myself.
“Hector!” Her legs fell from his shoulders, and she jerked upright, but her hands never stopped clutching his scalp, holding him to her, and he never stopped enjoying her.
He licked his way to her clit, and sucked. Hard. So hard. His name on her lips was as addictive as everything else about her, and he was determined to draw it out of her again and again.
“Hector, oh, God, Hector I’m so close. I’m almost there … I’m … oh, God! There!”
Another scream ripped from her, her body convulsing, her grip tightening on him, probably leaving bruises. Bruises he’d wear with pride. He’d done this. He’d pleasured her, given her this, made her lose control. Her inner walls clenched around his tongue, a tongue he darted in and out, in and out, f**king her that way since he couldn’t f**k her the other. All that delicious honey flowed down his throat, burned him alive and created a new creature.
Her slave.
Panting, she collapsed against the mattress in a boneless heap. He pulled back, but only slightly, and licked at his mouth, wanting every drop of her he could get.
He slid the edge of both his gloves back. His arms were shaking, still glowing, a little more than before, and more of the ink had faded. There were a few holes singed into the material, and those holes still released thin curls of smoke.
But. He hadn’t burned anything down, and he hadn’t hurt Noelle. So he would consider this a success.
He stood, his knees practically giving out. “Where’s your bathroom?” Ragged breath in, ragged breath out. He needed a moment—or ten—to himself. To calm, to cool down. To finish himself so that he was no longer a menace. For the moment, at least.