Home > Dark Taste of Rapture (Alien Huntress #6)(74)

Dark Taste of Rapture (Alien Huntress #6)(74)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Want you, Hector.”

“Put me in you,” he demanded.

Yes, yes, that’s what she needed. Hector. Deep, so deep. She slid her fingers free and once again wrapped them around Hector’s cock. The tip found her drenched entrance, but she didn’t press down. Not yet.

“Ready?” she whispered.

The glow pulsed now, causing beads of sweat to form over her flesh. Maybe he needed a moment to calm down, to get control of—

“Do it!”

Thank God. She pressed, sliding down … down … taking him all the way to the root, impaling herself. Then his hips jerked in reflex, sending him even deeper.

A spew of dark curses left him, followed by a stream of praise. “Fuck, yeah. So good, so damn good, baby, never felt anything better.”

“Mmm. I’ve never felt anything better, either.” He was so big, he stretched her far more than her fingers, but the burn revved her right back up.

“Move on me.”

She flattened her palms on his chest, felt the erratic pound of his heartbeat. A mimic of hers. Again using her knees as leverage, she rose all the way to the tip, then slid back down.

Another round of curses from him. “I want your fingers in my mouth.”

“Yes.” Except when she reached up to obey, he shook his head violently.

“Not those. The ones you had inside you.”

Oh. He wanted her taste in his mouth. God, that aroused her to the point of pleasure/pain. He licked and sucked her wetness from each, moaning and groaning. And all the while, she rode him, slow, so slowly.

When there was nothing left on her hand, he popped the fingers out. “Faster,” he snarled. “Harder.”

Not yet, darling. Still moving with tortuous slowness, she worked him. Until he was babbling incoherently. Until he was grinding his hips against her, trying to force her into a swifter rhythm. Until she was practically sobbing from desperation.

He’d wanted her enough to push past his fears. He’d waited so long for this moment. She planned to make him come so hard he’d never regret what they’d done—whatever happened afterward.

“You feel so good. I’m so close. Can’t wait to feel you come inside me. Never had that. Want that. Need that. Need you. Only you. You’re so—”

A roar of satisfaction parted his lips, and he slapped his hands against the tiled walls at his sides, arching his hips so high he completely cleared the bench. Her, too. Her knees lost their anchor, and she balanced only on Hector, his c**k so deep inside her she’d feel him for weeks.

As he jetted, a hot stream she could actually feel, she propelled over the edge of satisfaction herself. “Hector!” Her nails sank past skin and into muscle, beads of blood trickling down his chest.

White lights sparked behind her eyelids, and she nearly collapsed against him. Even in the furious haze of a pleasure so intense she’d never known its like, she remembered. Dangerous. Have to be careful.

Good thing, too, because as she floated down from the high, she smelled the smoke, and knew. He’d set her bathroom on fire.

Thirty-two

HECTOR SAT AT THE end of Noelle’s bed, a towel wrapped around his waist. She paced in front of him, but he couldn’t look at her. Not yet. He’d destroyed her bathroom. Would have burned her house down if the fire had started anywhere but the shower. A twist of the nozzle and they’d managed to douse the flames before they could spread.

By then, the tiles were already charred and black. His first time was probably going to be his last time, he thought darkly. A fact that utterly slayed him.

What Noelle had made him feel…

His body had existed for her, and her alone. He’d become her slave—more so than any time before. Whatever she’d wanted, he would have given her. Anything to sink inside that warm, wet sheath. And when he had… god damn. He’d almost come that very second. It had taken every bit of his will power to hold back.

He wanted that again. Every day, every night. Now he knew. There was nothing better than discovering your woman was drenched with arousal. Because of you. Feeling her pulse with satisfaction. Because of you. Hearing her cry your name. Knowing she was as swept up by the moment as you were.

How was he supposed to resist her now?

And he had to resist her. Until he learned to control his ability, he couldn’t let anything like this happen again.

You’re a goddamn broken record, you know that?

Yes. Proof: Would she wait for him? he wondered.

Hell, no, he decided a heartbeat later. She wouldn’t wait for him. One, he couldn’t give her a guarantee that he’d ever learn to control himself. Two, she was a beautiful woman with needs. Three, she did not handle any type of rejection well and she would consider his backtracking another rejection.

Fucking hate myself.

“You’re about to tell me we’re going back to being friends and partners and nothing more, aren’t you?” she demanded.

His stomach churned with sickness. “Noelle—”

“Don’t you Noelle me. Ten minutes ago I was baby.”

And he would have chopped off his arms to be there again. “Your bathroom is toast. I could have hurt you irreparably.”

“Argh! This shit again? Really? The bathroom’s no big deal. I can have another stall in place within the hour.”

No big deal. Right. “That’s not the point, and you know it.” And he’d known better. Had known sex was too hazardous for him.

Gotta stay strong this time. Can’t cave.

“You said coming inside me might calm your arms down, and guess what? It did. You aren’t glowing, and you aren’t radiating any heat.”

“Doesn’t mean the process won’t start over again if you touch me.” Or if I touch you. Just the thought had his c**k twitching. Down boy.

“So okay. Fine. What happens next?” She stopped in front of him, her hands on her hips. The scent of soap and orchids wafted from her. She, too, wore a towel. The fluffy material was anchored just above her br**sts and fell to just below her ass.

Gorgeous female. Even then, after the damage he’d caused, as tortured as he was, his body continued to respond to her, craving her. “What do you want to happen?” he asked, finally looking up and meeting her gaze.

Noelle’s heart lurched in her chest. Hector’s expression was one of pain, regret, and soul-wrenching sorrow. Not about the sex. That, she knew he’d enjoyed. But about the danger he’d put her in.

“I want you to follow me around like a puppy, doing everything I tell you to do,” she said.

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