Lori Foster - Dash of Peril

Beneath the soft flannel sleep pants, his erection stood at attention making her heart pump in slow heavy beats. Yes, she would sit, gladly.

He helped her climb up into the bed, arranging her left leg over his hips so that she straddled him. She tried to sit lower on him so that her hands could play, but with a chastising, “Behave,” Dash moved her up higher. He bent his legs up and let her rest back against his thighs.

She tried to reach back, but he caught her hand and instead placed it on her thigh.

“Relax, honey. You’ll get your turn, but we don’t want this over with before it even gets started. If you start playing touchy-feely, that’s exactly what’ll happen.”

No, she didn’t want that. But relaxing was out of the question. “Kiss me.”

“All right.” He took her shoulders and drew her forward, but instead of her lips, he drew her nipple into his hot, wet mouth, his velvet tongue lathing, his teeth teasing.

There seemed to be a direct link between her nipple and her womb. Breathing harder, she sank the fingers of her right hand into his hair and held him close.

He suckled for a very long time, leisurely, tirelessly. Even when she squirmed on him, pushing her bottom back to his erection, he continued to draw on her. When he did finally let up, it was only to move to her other nipple. He gave her a peck, licked, circled with his tongue. “This isn’t uncomfortable for your arm?”

Breathlessly, she whispered, “No.” It was so stirring she didn’t know if she could take much more. With each soft suckle, her muscles drew tighter, the lust sharpened, pushing her ever closer to the fall.

“Good.” He caught her hip and said, “Scoot forward again. Now lean down. That’s perfect.” And again he drew her in, his tongue curling around her, his teeth occasionally closing carefully for a gentle, tantalizing tug.

So lost in those wonderful sensations, at first she didn’t notice when he smoothed a hand over her hip, along her bottom and down. “Tip forward, honey. Mmm, that’s it.” And he sank two fingers into her. Before again latching on to her nipple, he said, “You can sit again.”

But sitting pushed his fingers deeper and she just naturally rocked against him. The spiraling pleasure escalated, growing sweeter, making her more desperate. It was a little unnerving, having Dash work her so easily. But it was also so wonderful that she didn’t want him to stop, even whispered, “Please don’t stop,” in a ragged plea.

“No, I won’t.” He went back to her nipple, so gently now that the contrast of his fingers buried deep proved her downfall. She clenched around him, tightened her hand in his hair and cried out as a climax shook her.

Slowly, Dash lessened the intensity of his touch until she almost melted against his chest.

Instead he eased her back against his bent legs. They both breathed hard.

He ran a hand over her. “Your nipples are so wet and stiff.” He strummed one with a fingertip. “So damned sexy.”

Sensitive now, she flinched away.

“Too much?”

Unable to drum up words yet, she nodded. She couldn’t get her eyes to open, couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.

Dash parted her thighs more. “You’re beautiful.”

And easy. At least for him.

While Dash idly touched her in various ways, she concentrated on recovering. Once she’d regained her wits enough to speak, she looked at him and murmured drowsily, “Now, finally, it’s your turn.”

WHEN DASH SAID, “Not just yet,” she wanted to insist. She really did. But already he worked his magic, his fingertips lightly stroking over her collarbone, her breasts—while avoiding her nipples—over her ribs and along her trembling thighs.

“No more, Dash.” And then, almost whimpering, she added, “I can’t.”

Too seriously, seduction personified, he whispered, “You can.” He brushed his open palms over her stiffened nipples, lightly abrading them.

This crazy insistence he had of her tolerance made her frantic. “No, I...”

“Shhh.” He cupped her breasts in his hands and stared into her eyes, his demeanor hot but measured. “Show me how strong you are, honey. Show me that awesome control.”

Oh, God, a challenge—one he knew she’d feel compelled to accept. “It’s too much.”

“Not possible with you.” His thumbs moved over her tightened nipples. “With us.”

There he went again, saying things that sounded so serious, hinting at a future—

“I want you to relax back against my thighs. Let your arms rest.” He snagged a pillow and tucked it next to her to support her splinted elbow. “Now,” he whispered, “let’s try this.” He drew her knees up and eased them out, so that her feet were flat beside his hips. With rapt attention, he looked at her exposed sex. “Damn.”

Margo groaned.

“You see,” he said, still in that soft, almost awed tone. “You’re almost there again, aren’t you, baby?”

She tried to deny it with a shake of her head, but his attention remained between her legs.

Again, his fingers played with her, so expertly, and she knew he was right. She could, and she would.

With Dash.

No other man could be like him. So cocky but also incredibly caring. Sweet but surprisingly dominant. Carefree yet responsibly settled in a way she’d never expected for a player like him.

And focused. God Almighty, the man had extreme focus, especially when it came to pleasuring her.

She was fast falling in love with the way he touched her, with how he made her feel, his touch.

With him.

But twenty minutes later, she crumbled. Tirelessly, he had teased every inch of her until her skin tingled all over and a fever invaded her muscles and she desperately needed to come. “Dash—”

“I love the way you say my name when you’re so close to letting go.”

His repeated use of the L word no longer alarmed her. She could feel his erection against her bottom, his muscles all rigid as he teased her.

“I love the way you look, how you smell, how you feel, those sexy little sounds you make when you’re so close to coming.” He watched her face as he tipped her back farther, worked his hands under her to push down his flannel pants. “I love watching you wait, hearing that anxious little catch in your voice when you tell me you need me.”

“I do.” She groaned, and managed raggedly, “I need you so badly. Right now.”

“I know.” He leaned forward and the kiss to her mouth was sweet and easy. “But waiting only makes it better.”

The thought of waiting was too much and her legs just naturally tried to pull together.

“Hey, hey...” Dash gently parted them again, then touched her in a way that kept them open—and had her gasping. “Just a few seconds more, honey.”

Carefully, he moved her back so that he could free himself.

Margo didn’t know what new torment he had planned, but she couldn’t bear it. She wanted him more than she wanted her next breath. More than she could remember ever wanting anyone, or anything.

He’d done that to her, deliberately. He’d brought her to this fevered, mindless state of need, and she finally had to admit it—she couldn’t take it. Couldn’t control her reaction. Couldn’t withstand his sensual torment. Not anymore.

Desperately, not giving him a chance to stop her, she wrapped her fingers firmly around him and was rewarded with the catch of Dash’s breath, his utter stillness.

So smooth and hot and hard. He flexed in her hand, a drop of fluid escaping him. In a daze of lust and...love, she stroked him.

Breathing with her, Dash said, “Baby...wait.”

“I can’t.” She used her thumb to spread that drop of fluid around the head of his erection, and with a deep groan Dash gave up fighting her. “I want to taste you, too.”

He clenched his jaw. “Later.” His eyes were heavy-lidded, dark color high on his cheekbones. He breathed harder.

Deliberately, she licked her lips. “You promise?”

His hands contracted on her thighs. “Yeah,” he rasped.

She moved against him, lost in the moment, and he let her, even helped her.

“This is dangerous,” he warned.

“You’re dangerous.” Unable to wait a second more, Margo lifted up, positioned him. Dash let his hands rest lightly on her pelvic bones as he labored for breath. They looked at each other for a suspended moment of time.

With an excruciatingly slow purpose, Margo worked against him until the head of his erection had penetrated. She paused, relishing the moment. She could feel him pulsing, and the unwilling grasp of her body around him.

“Jesus.” Dash strained, his fingers flexing on her thighs. He never broke eye contact.

Neither did she.

She licked her lips, and took a little more, sliding down, then back up again.

A guttural groan rumbled from deep in his chest. “Tease,” he accused, and then added, “I love it.”

Heat mounted between them. She released his erection and instead braced her hand on his rock-solid shoulder.

“More,” he ordered, his eyes glittering.

She nodded...and sank down. This time Dash held her hips and lifted up into her with one steady thrust that penetrated her completely.

Her thighs strained.

His jaw locked.

Margo slumped down over him until her forehead touched his, their noses bumping, their breath mingling.

Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. It was almost too much. He filled her up and then some, stretching her, touching her womb, but that wasn’t the best part. It wasn’t just the intense physical pleasure. It wasn’t just the extreme talent he had for heightening her every sense until she felt drowned in pleasure.