Love Bites Part 14

His expression was triumphant as his hands clamped over her a.s.s to hold her to him, pus.h.i.+ng and pulling

her hips faster, increasing the friction that was quickly building a fire in her loins. He'd turned the tables

on her. Darcy fought for control, but his body rocked beneath her spread legs and pushed his c.o.c.k harder against her p.u.s.s.y. She shoved against his chest but only succeeded in increasing the pressure at the apex of her thighs. Her o.r.g.a.s.m blossomed, taking her breath, tightening her thighs around him.

"Yes, baby. Come for me." She shouted, jerking her hips faster, wanting to prolong the fractured ecstasy. Then it pa.s.sed and her movements slowed. His hands continued to caress her b.u.t.tocks. Then one slid to her chest and he fondled her breast as her heart slowed its rapid beating. Darcy drew a deep breath and opened her eyes. Quentin's calculating gaze held hers and he pinched her nipple-hard. "Thanks," she said, her voice rasping. "I needed that to help me keep control." A single eyebrow rose. He twisted her nipple, then sc.r.a.ped his fingernail over the sensitive peak. "Why would you want control?" "I want you to beg," she whispered. "That will never happen." "Watch me." She pressed his hands to the pillow beside his head and scooted down his body, pausing to suckle his flat brown nipples until their tiny points ruched.

Her tongue swirled over the hair that covered his abdomen, and she smiled when his muscles tightened. He gasped when the point of her tongue dipped into his belly b.u.t.ton and fluttered. Lower, she slid down his sweat-moistened flesh, licking the soft skin of his belly. She nudged aside his c.o.c.k with her nose and applied small, sharp bites on his muscled abdomen that caused his p.e.n.i.s to jump and pulse. Cupping his sac with one hand she smoothed her cheek over the length of his shaft. It smelled of her release and his own musk. But she wasn't ready to give him the ultimate kiss. She slid lower and tongued his b.a.l.l.s, sweeping below the sac to the follow the line to his a.s.shole.

"Sweet Jesus!" he muttered.

Shoving at his legs, she urged him to raise his knees and widen them. Now, he was at her mercy.

She tongued the tight ring and gloried in the sharp hiss of his gasp. She circled his a.s.shole, lapped it with the flat of her tongue, then used the tip to tickle the center. "Enough Darcy!" She loved the desperate tone in his voice. "No. Not nearly enough. Have you ever been f.u.c.ked here, Quentin?" "No!" "Then let me be the first."

Quentin started to sweat in earnest. Part of him wanted to wrest control from the vixen, the other part of him was dying to see where her curiosity would lead next. Would she really...

She did! One slender finger pressed inward where none had ever dared enter before. He squeezed his b.u.t.tocks, resisting, but she was relentless. Finally, he felt the tight ring give and she was inside.

"So tight," she murmured. "I believe you." She swirled her finger and watched his face, no doubt to

gauge his reaction.

He fought to school his features into a mask, but she touched something inside him that had his hips jerking off the bed. "Darcy!" he warned. He didn't dare move again, his a.r.s.e burned already, his b.a.l.l.s had tightened to stones, and his d.i.c.k felt ready to burst. But he couldn't give her this victory.

"Poor baby. You look worried," she said, and rose on her knees, her face poised above his aching rod.

"Will you beg me, now?"

Gritting his teeth, he refused to give her his answer, but his body spoke for him. His hips pumped, nudging his wayward little man against her lips.

Her mouth opened and she took the head of his c.o.c.k into her warm, wet mouth. Her teeth nibbled on the crown-tiny, sharp bites that sent electric shocks throughout his body and he bit back a moan.

G.o.d, he needed her to take him into her throat. He pressed upward, trying to gain deeper access.

But she drew back. "Tell me what you want."

Quentin stared at her. Her eyes glittered with triumph. The witch knew how close he was to exploding, but denied him. He closed his eyes and willed his flesh to resist her lure, but he'd already lost. He'd die if she didn't take him now. "Please, Darcy. Suck my c.o.c.k."

"Oh baby, you've made me so happy. But I don't think you're ready."

His eyes slammed open and he glared.

Her smile promised unimaginable torments and Quentin cursed. With her finger up his a.r.s.e, he was

shackled to her whim.

Her pink tongue lapped a lazy circle around the root of his c.o.c.k, rising ever higher until she reached the

head. He panted, hoping now she'd sink her mouth over him, but she pressed the tip of her wicked tongue into the small opening at the top, coaxing a drop of pre-c.u.m.

She groaned and slid her mouth down his shaft, the sound vibrating on his swollen flesh.

His hips pumped upward, shallow, short thrusts that frustrated him. He craved her warm mouth, needed her deep, wet throat to swallow all of him.

Her free hand encircled him at the base and she sc.r.a.ped her teeth along the rigid pole of his s.e.x.

Silently, he promised revenge. Promised to drive her mad with his tongue and c.o.c.k. Until she begged for forgiveness for making him to plead. "Darcy, give me release. Take me, baby. f.u.c.k me."

A second slender finger slid inside him and he couldn't hold back his shout. Pain and ecstasy warred. Then she moved her fingers, in and out, while she fluttered her tongue along his raging erection. His cries ripped from the back of his throat. Suddenly, she stopped all movement. He watched her, his body tensing to resist her next a.s.sault.

Her expression wasn't gloating as he'd expected. Her cheeks flamed, her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. She was as seduced by her actions as he was. Her mouth closed over him and she sank on his c.o.c.k, until his head b.u.mped against the opening of her throat. Then she opened her jaws wider and he sank deeper into her.

He heard a l.u.s.ty, hoa.r.s.e shout and then he was driving his hips upward, slamming into her depths. When he came, his cries grew strangled, and finally, his b.a.l.l.s exploded and c.u.m spurted into her throat-long, hot streams of liquid fire. When he'd shot his load, he lay there, spent, allowing her to sooth him with her tongue and mouth, her low murmurs gentling his flesh.

He'd get his revenge later on the little witch. After he'd recovered from the greatest o.r.g.a.s.m he'd ever experienced.

CHAPTER TEN.

Darcy yawned and stretched easing the pleasant aches in her muscles, only to discover something impeded the movement of her arms. Her eyes shot open. Her wrists were wrapped in pink cotton-her panties, she realized, and they were tied to the headboard.

"Finally, you're awake," Quentin purred. He lay on his side, his head propped on one hand.

He looked like a man who wasn't in any hurry.

And why should he be? she silently grumbled. He'd come, roaring like a freight train, then promptly fell asleep. Darcy had lain at his side, frustrated and hurting for what seemed like hours afterward. She'd had her way with him, but her victory had backfired.

Now her body remembered where she'd left off. Every swollen, achy point throbbed with her heartbeat.

She groaned inwardly. He was going to make her pay. He'd torture her with the sweet, sliding promise of his c.o.c.k, fingers, and mouth until she begged as loudly as he had.

She winced. Perhaps, she'd taken things a little far. Maybe, he'd accept an apology. "Quentin?"

"Yes, love." His voice was mild-with a hint of amus.e.m.e.nt.

s.h.i.+t! s.h.i.+t! s.h.i.+t! What does he want to hear?

His body stretched beside hers, but not touching. The heat from his skin burned her. His mouth curved

only slightly and his gaze never left her face.

His stillness made her nervous as h.e.l.l.

"You know, everything you're thinking is written on your face, love. It's really quite remarkable."

Darcy wished she could school her features into a careless expression, but all her energies were spent

holding her hips still. She clamped her thighs tightly and fought the quiver of arousal that threatened to

shake her belly. Where will he start? With my b.r.e.a.s.t.s or my p.u.s.s.y? Oh G.o.d, will he take my a.s.s? She gave up trying to pretend fearlessness and glared at him. "Will you just get it over with? What do you want me to say? I'll say it." Her voice rose. "Do you want to spank me? I'll take it. Just get it over with, so you can f.u.c.k me."

Quentin's smile broadened. "What an imagination you have! Did I leave you in a bad way, sweetheart?" "Yes!" Now she really would wail. "Touch me, please!" She rolled her hips toward him, pressing her thighs against his. He settled his hand on her stomach and pushed her back. "Are you going to leave me, again?" A sick panicked feeling made her stomach boil. "Are you going to make me wait? Because if you are, I'll scream so loud the whole neighborhood will think I'm dying. And I won't be so discriminating about who I beg to help me!" His gaze narrowed, his eyes glittering dangerously. "I told you. You will not take another lover. Never again. I watched while your partner pounded away at you. I won't share you, again."

She thrilled at the possessive note in his voice. "Then f.u.c.k me. Make me yours. I'll be yours as long as you want me."

His hand hovered over one breast, then settled, warm and heavy. "And if I want forever?"

The nerve ending in her nipple fired, shooting a curling desire into her belly. She swallowed past the lump that lodged in her throat. "I'll give it to you."

"You'd give me your life for a f.u.c.king?" he asked, his voice casual, but his expression was alert.

She raised an eyebrow. "You are an extraordinary f.u.c.k," she purred.

"What makes me special? How can I know you aren't simply saying what I want to hear?"

Could he read her mind? "Baby," she moaned, "I love the way you smell-of the sea and warm musk."

He raised a single eyebrow. He wasn't impressed.

"You only have to look at me and I melt. Your mouth torments me." She writhed and arched her back to raise her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "My t.i.ts are so tight and hard, they're begging for your kisses."

"Huh!" he grunted, but molded her breast with his palm.

She raised her knees and let them fall open.

His gaze zeroed in on her moist slit.

"I need your mouth and your huge c.o.c.k. Take me."

His jaw rippled as he clamped his teeth tightly. "Tell me about my c.o.c.k." Was his voice hoa.r.s.e?

"You fill me to bursting. When you're crammed up inside me so tight I can't breathe, I don't ever want to let you go."

Heat was in his gaze and he flared his nostrils. "There's the little matter of what you did to me tonight."

"I'm sorry. I took it too far. I know I did. But you were so wonderfully responsive. I felt powerful and so G.o.dd.a.m.ned turned on. Then you fell asleep..."

"Did I leave you wanting?"

"Yes!"

"Good." He reached over her and released the knots that bound her wrists.

"That's it?"

"I find I can't prolong your punishment. I'm hard as oak and I haven't had the pleasure of your warm solace this evening."

Darcy opened her arms joyously.

Quentin lowered himself over her, stretching his body, pressing her deep into the mattress from her shoulders to her toes.

"I'm going to f.u.c.k you until you shout the roof off the house." He pushed her hands onto the pillow and nudged her knees apart.

Eager to begin, Darcy wriggled beneath him, wanting her legs free to clasp his hips, but he didn't allow it.

His c.o.c.k nudged between her thighs, poking against her soaking slit.

Darcy's hips widened just far enough so he slipped between her thighs and pressed against her slick folds.