Maya Banks - Sweet Possession

She was close to her own orgasm and all from sucking him off. It stunned him and inflated his male ego about ten more pounds. Not willing to let her remain unfulfilled, he slid his fingers between them, down into the softness of her folds.

She was hot and damp, slick with her arousal. As soon as he touched her clit, she arched forward, her back bowing so that her breasts were shoved into his face.

Damn if that didn’t make him one happy man.

He latched on to her nipple and suckled as he stroked her. Her heat bathed his fingers. He pressed in with his thumb and rotated in a tight circle as his middle finger slid inside her.

She encased him in liquid velvet. She was so satiny soft and smooth. He added another finger, stretching her as his thumb continued its relentless seduction.

A whimper tore from her throat and she tightened in his arms. So sweet and soft. Curvy and warm. He sighed his own contentment as he moved to her other breast and inhaled her scent.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders. Her cry came out as an ache in the stillness of the room. She trembled so violently as her orgasm crashed around her that she pitched forward against him.

He caught her with his free arm and held her close as he continued to caress her swollen, damp flesh. Her chest pushed against his as she struggled for breath. He buried his face in her neck and kissed softly over her pulse point.

“You undo me,” he admitted softly.

She laughed but it came out quivery soft and delicate. “That’s my line.”

He nuzzled her neck again and pressed kisses below her ear. Gradually he eased his hand from between her legs and pulled her even closer to him so that she straddled him again and her body was pressed as close to him as he could get her.

“Do you doubt how beautiful you are to me?” he asked quietly.

She pushed away just enough that she could stare into his eyes. What he saw in hers knotted his chest and made his throat ache. There was wonder. Amazement and a little confusion. As if she truly couldn’t comprehend why he thought her so damn beautiful.

“Not anymore,” she said in a whisper. “I don’t understand it, but when I look at you, I see it. I don’t know what to do about it, but you’ve made me believe it.”

He smiled then and trailed a finger down a strand of her hair to her cheek. Then he pushed it up and over her ear. “You don’t have to do anything. I just want you to see you the way I see you.”

She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his. Her hands slid up his neck and her thumbs brushed over his jawline. He shivered at that tiny gesture. It was baffling what something so simple as her touch did to him.

“I wish everyone could see me the way you see me.”

There was pain and regret in her statement. It said so much more than just the simple words. There was a wealth of meaning, and, not for the first time, he realized that there was so much more to the woman than what the public saw.

Was it their fault entirely for swallowing what they were spoon-fed by the media and by Lyric herself? No, but right now he could see the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide from the world. She wore indifference like a shield. She needed that protection. She was a complicated, complex woman who had so many pieces that it was nearly impossible to put them all together.

He kissed her, just a simple touch of his lips, more a comforting gesture than one designed to inspire lust. And he simply held her while she regained her bearings and enjoyed the feel of her in his arms.

Lyric took longer than necessary in the shower and lingered in the bathroom long after she’d dried her hair and done her makeup. The truth was, she was nervous. She wasn’t sure how to act around Connor now. The last twenty-four hours had seen a 180 in their relationship.

She wasn’t used to this uncertainty. She called the shots in all her sexual relationships. Nothing touched her. Nothing got to her. It was all casual and meaningless. Everything was on her terms.

With Connor she felt like she was spinning out of control. It was a helpless, panicky feeling.

A knock sounded at her door. “Lyric, we need to be going.”

She hesitated and then opened the door to see Connor standing there. “I’m ready.”

“Kane’s waiting downstairs with the car.”

“You’re riding with me.”

He touched her arm. “Of course. You don’t go anywhere without me.”

She breathed a soft sigh of relief.

He escorted her down the stairs and out front to the circle drive where a limousine was parked. She wrinkled her nose. “Seems a bit conspicuous, don’t you think?”

“It’s armored,” Connor said. “Bulletproof windows. You’ll be safe.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you really think I’m in that much danger?”

Kane, who was standing by the limo, straightened and opened the passenger door for Lyric. “We always assume the worst. That way we don’t get any nasty surprises.”

She slid into the roomy interior and scooted around the curved seat to allow Connor to duck in. She held her breath, waiting to see if Kane would slide in as well. To her relief, he shut the door, leaving her and Connor alone.

“He’s just doing his job,” Connor said with a hint of amusement.

“I don’t like him,” she muttered. “He makes me nervous.”

Connor raised an eyebrow as the car pulled away from the house. “I didn’t think anyone made you nervous, Miss Badass.”

She pulled a face at him.

“Did you make all the phone calls you needed to make?” he asked.

“Most. Not all,” she admitted. “I didn’t call Paul. I wasn’t in the mood to hear him bitch.”

Connor’s expression darkened. “You need to tell him to shut the fuck up. You’re making him a fuckload of money. He can lighten the hell up.”

She shrugged. “Depends on who you ask, I guess. According to him, he’s doing me a favor.”

Connor snorted. “If he ever thought you were walking, he’d bend over backward to kiss your ass. When I first met you I thought that everyone around you kissed your ass too much. Now I think you’re surrounded by a bunch of assholes.”

She grinned. “And in the beginning, I thought you were the biggest asshole of them all.”

“And now?”

She pretended to consider the matter as she studied him. “Now I think you’re a pretty okay guy.”

Her phone rang and she checked the display screen. She rolled her eyes and hit the ignore button.

“Does your phone always ring twenty-four/seven?” he asked.

She sighed. “Pretty much. There is no shortage of people always trying to keep me in line. They either want to call me to bitch at me, call me to remind me to be somewhere, or call me to ask me to do something.”

“So not very much ‘Hi, how are you?’ then.”

She stopped and considered for a moment and then laughed. “No, I suppose not. I can’t remember the last time someone called just to say hi or ask me how I was doing.”

Connor shook his head.

Half an hour later, the limo pulled up to the stage entrance of the stadium. Connor got out and scanned the area before reaching back for Lyric’s hand. Kane and his men took position around them just as her manager strode out of the back entrance and made a beeline for Lyric.

Connor immediately stepped in front of Lyric and wrapped a protective arm around her, shoving her into his back. Kane stepped in front of Connor while his men pushed in around Lyric.

“Get the hell out of my way,” Paul barked. “I’m her manager.”

Connor halted him with an icy glare.

“Get her inside,” Kane barked. “The reunion will wait until then.”

Paul didn’t look happy to be ordered about, but he had little choice as the men closed ranks and ushered Lyric inside the building.

“Where the hell have you been?” Paul demanded once they were inside. “I’ve been waiting here for two hours. There are things to go over and I couldn’t very well go over the details of your performance without you.”

Lyric sighed and wished he’d just shut up. She had no desire for one of his tantrums in front of everyone else. Connor’s face had darkened to a storm cloud and his jaw was set in a rigid line as he glared at Paul.

“I’m fifteen minutes early, Paul. Calm down.”

Paul reached for her elbow to pull her down the hallway but Connor cut him off and wrapped a protective arm around Lyric’s shoulders. Paul shot Connor a disdainful look but continued to the meeting room where the rodeo execs were waiting.

Paul did most of the talking, and by the time it was over, Lyric had a headache. He made silly demands, argued every point, and finally Lyric told him to shut up. She apologized to the assembled people and then listened as they went over the schedule.

Next they gave her a tour of the rotating stage that was used for all the performers at the rodeo and gave her a preview of the screen graphics for the background. She met with the band since hers wouldn’t be making the show and rehearsed the songs she’d be singing for the show.

Three hours later, it was done and she left the building, surrounded by Kane and his men. The car was waiting, but before she could slip into it, Paul caught up to her and grabbed her arm.

She turned in surprise and glanced pointedly at his hand.

“We need to talk, Lyric. What the hell is going on with you? You look like shit. Have you even tried to stay in shape for your tour dates? You only have a few weeks off and then you go back on the road. You’ve gained at least ten pounds, if not more. You don’t want to look like a slob onstage. This is your career. You could at least act like it’s important to you.”