Love Bites Part 5

If I leave you, you're to play-only!" Joe lifted an eyebrow. "Of course." Darcy rolled her eyes. An inch from o.r.g.a.s.m, her body screamed for release and the two of them were dividing territory. "You started this." Quentin grasped the back of her head. "And I'll finish it." He kissed her hard then stood to greet a tall, slim black man whose avid stare made Darcy want to crawl into a hole and hide.

Joe's arms encircled her hips, and he drew her flush with his body, covering her from breast to hip. She wrapped her legs around his waist and hugged him tightly. "Quentin's leaving with him," she whispered. "Then let's continue with the game plan." "I think you need to lose some clothing too," she grumbled. Joe grinned. "It is hot in here. Will that make you feel better?" Looking at his broad shoulders, she murmured, "Probably not." Joe pulled his T-s.h.i.+rt over his head. His deeply tanned skin was s.h.i.+ny with perspiration. "I see now why you were so blown away." He grimaced. "He's a guy, but I was ready to come all over you when he was sucking on my arm." Darcy smiled at his look of disgust. "Mind-blowing, isn't it?" "I still have a hard-on that could pierce steel," he said with a crooked smile. Darcy knew. It was pressed to the juncture of her thighs. Like a kid with her nose pressed to the candy store window, she eyed the wide expanse of muscle that spanned his chest. Her body was primed and well oiled-desperate for release. "He said we could play."

His expression looked troubled, a frown creasing his forehead. "Not the way I want to."

Her hands caressed the tops of shoulders. "The team's not wired in, and Quentin told us to play. Betcha we can find a place to melt your metal."

Joe chuckled. "I didn't know you were such a nasty girl." He leaned toward her and licked her lips. "Is it just coitus that's strictly against Quentin's rules?"

She sucked his tongue between her lips and bit gently. "You're starting to sound like him."

"G.o.d forbid." He shuddered.

Darcy laughed and framed his face with her hands. "I think it's f.u.c.king he has a problem with. He seems very possessive of my c.u.n.t."

"Don't blame him," he muttered. "But there's so much else we could do." She kissed his lips. "I'm so hot now, I can't wait." A smile curved his lips. "We're undercover. Have to play like the natives, don't we?" Darcy groaned. "Like I said, he started this." Will I be able to face Joe in the morning like nothing happened between us? Will our friends.h.i.+p change?

Joe's grasp tightened on her hips. "Put your hands inside my pants, Darcy."

She liked the baldness of his command. "Okay. You first." She unsnapped his jeans and slid down the zipper. His s.e.x sprang into her hands. His c.o.c.k was fully engorged and hot to her touch. The skin stretching over it was smooth like satin. "Did I tell you how beautiful your c.o.c.k is?" she whispered.

Joe's eyes closed for a moment. When he opened them again, his gaze was stark with longing. "Did I tell you, you have the prettiest t.i.ts I've ever seen?"

Thrilled by the compliment, she blushed. "You're full of s.h.i.+t. You just want to f.u.c.k me."

His cheeks flushed red, and his jaw tightened. "h.e.l.l, yeah. But it's true. Your nipples are dark pink, like

your pretty c.u.n.t." Darcy's heart raced, and her hands squeezed his c.o.c.k. Joe leaned forward to kiss her lips, and she glided her hands over him, up and down. Squeezing, twisting.

He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "I'm already there, baby. I'm gonna come all over you."

Darcy took his lips in a deep, grinding kiss and thrust her tongue inside while she pumped her hands faster.

He pulled his mouth from hers and gasped. "s.h.i.+t!" Spurts of white pearlescent c.u.m striped her bare belly.

"There are limits to my largesse."

Darcy gasped and released Joe's c.o.c.k at Quentin's curt tone. She looked up to see him standing over them, his hands fisted at his sides.

Chest still heaving, Joe reached for his T-s.h.i.+rt and wiped Darcy's belly clean. "Sorry about that, old man." Only he didn't look sorry at all.

"It's time to go." After Joe stood, Quentin's hand grasped Darcy's and he hauled her up into his arms. "You don't seem to take instruction very well, my dear."

With her jeans sagging mid-thigh, Darcy summoned what was left of her pride. "I make my own choices."

"That's where you're wrong. You haven't any choices. I'm making them for you. And by G.o.d, you will be mine." His hands slid over her b.u.t.tocks and he tugged up her pants.

Darcy fumbled with the zipper and snap, and then gasped again when he spun her and reached for the halves of her halter. His hands smoothed the fabric over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and then he fastened the clasp at the back of her neck. Trembling, Darcy didn't resist when one hand grasped her crotch and the other palmed her breast.

"Mine, Darcy," he whispered in her ear.

Quentin followed close on Darcy's heels as she sped to her front door. All night long he'd simmered. The sight of her hands wrapped around Joe Garcia's c.o.c.k as the other man gained his satisfaction had boiled like an ulcer in his gut.

After two more fruitless stops at vampire dens, he finally had her to himself. He'd toyed with her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and sweet c.u.n.t at each of the h.e.l.ls until her fevered gaze and the aroma of her arousal had nearly driven him mad.

Joe had watched Quentin's seduction, impotent, his fists on his thighs, his gaze bleak. When he'd finally dropped them at the curb in front of her house, he'd mumbled something about making reports and gunned the engine as he left.

This time Quentin would have her to himself. No interruptions-and a bed beneath her back while he ravaged her senses. After tonight, she'd have no doubts about which man she preferred between her legs.

Quentin didn't heed the voice in the back of his mind, warning him to woo her. He would take her.

Darcy fumbled with the keys and dropped them.

Quentin smiled, grim satisfaction filling him. She had reason to be nervous. He was going to eat her up.

Wring every drop of sweet cream from her she had to give. After he taught her a lesson.

He stepped beside her and s.n.a.t.c.hed the keys from the ground. Holding them out for her to take from him, he relished the tremor he detected when her hands accepted the keys.

This time she opened the door and shoved it wide. "I'm tired. Goodnight," she said over her shoulder, heading straight for her bedroom.

When she slammed her door closed, his hand stopped it, and he shoved it open and advanced into the room, stalking her.

"You're angry. And I suppose-from your viewpoint-you have reason to be."

His smile grew as she babbled and took a step backward for each he advanced.

He admired the stubborn tilt of her chin. She didn't lack courage. "But you haven't any right to your anger. You don't own me."

When her thighs met the side of the mattress, she tried to sidestep him, but his hands grasped the edges of her miniscule top and he tore it down the middle, halving the slender strips of fabric. Perfect for what he had in mind.

She backed onto the mattress and then crawled on all fours away from him.

Quentin leapt onto the bed and straddled her back. His hand smoothed over her bare skin and cupped her shoulders.

She shuddered beneath him, the quaking raising his already rock-hard c.o.c.k. "All right. You win. I want to f.u.c.k just as much as you do. You've been driving me crazy all night."

He traced her spine with a finger. "I'm not going to give you what you want. Not until you beg. And then, I'll make you wait some more before I let you cream."

"What are you going to do?"

"Why? Don't you trust me?"

"You have me pinned to the bed. Why should I?"

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Because I'm about to become your whole world." Her answering s.h.i.+ver of delight was all he'd hoped to arouse.

He stretched his hand along her arm until he reached her wrist. Her arm tensed, but she didn't resist when he tied the fabric strip around her wrist in a knot. She was curious. More curious than afraid.

Foolish girl!

He eased off her and dragged her closer to the headboard, and then looped the fabric around one iron bar and tied it. He did the same with her other wrist. "Now, get on your knees." Darcy's breath was harsh and coming faster. She struggled against her bonds and pulled herself into a kneeling position.

He reached around her body to the snap of her jeans and opened them, then smoothed the rough fabric over her hips and down her legs. Raising one knee at a time, she helped him remove the pants. He tossed them to the floor. "Do I have to tie your legs?" "No," she replied, her voice small. Having subdued her, Quentin was ready to begin his campaign. "What do you want, Darcy?"

Her back quivered. "For you to touch me."

With his hands on the soft skin of her b.u.t.tocks, he almost lost his resolve. He parted her cheeks and pressed his thumb against her a.s.shole. "Like this?"

"Quentin?" her voice rose on a plaintive note.

"No?" He leaned down and tongued the rosy ring. "Like this?"

"Quentin!" Her breath caught.

"Is that all you want me to do?"

"No. I want you to f.u.c.k me."

He kissed each cheek. "Well, we all have our disappointments."

He left the bed and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"Quentin? Quentin!"

With her angry curses ringing in his ears, he strode into her kitchen and found a bottle of lousy Scotch.

Pouring two fingers into a tumbler, he savored the bite of the liquor and willed his flesh to obey his

command. He wasn't one to ponder over the deeper emotions, so he didn't question why this particular woman raised his possessive hackles. He just accepted that she was his. It was time he took a mate.

He imagined her still perched with her shapely a.s.s in the air, fighting her restraints. She'd spit nails at him right about now. It was going to be a long night, but she would learn who was the master.

Darcy woke to an incredible sensation. A hot, wet cloth swirled over her a.s.s and in between her legs. She moaned and widened the gap between them. The cloth dipped to circle her c.u.n.t and she lifted her hips. An invitation her tormentor couldn't miss.

"You're awake," Quentin said, his tone matter-of-fact.

In an instant she recalled everything. Her hands tugged against the headboard, but her restraints held.

"What are you doing?"

"Preparing you, love. I don't want Joe's scent on you when I take you."

Darcy bit her lip. Her body remembered even better where they'd left off. She still ached for completion after his diabolical seduction. He'd promised to make her cream.

Instead, she'd been left to scrunch the bedding between her thighs in an attempt to m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e herself.

"Get on your knees." His voice held a self-satisfied tone. He was enjoying her torment.

She glowered, but complied immediately.

"Good girl." His naked skin blanketed her back and his c.o.c.k slipped between her legs.

Darcy tilted her hips, hoping he'd slide right in.

"Not yet."

She was afraid of that. Her legs trembled and her c.u.n.t wept.

He brought the cloth to her neck, rubbed over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, paying special attention to her aching nipples.

Then he scrubbed her stomach. "That's better."

"I'm not going to beg," Darcy said, hoping to incite an argument and break through his icy control.

He chuckled, a mirthless sound that worried her more. "Your legs are shaking. I'll make you more comfortable." He reached past her and snagged a pillow, then placed it beneath her belly. "Lie down on this. "

Darcy lowered herself, disturbed to find the pillow raised her a.s.s. She was positioned for his pleasure.

His hands cupped a b.u.t.tock each, then glided to her thighs. "Open your legs." He arranged her thighs and knelt between them, encouraging her to widen the gap with nudges from his knees. "Just right."

Just right for what? A warm gust of air blew over the heated flesh between her legs.

"Tell me what you want," he commanded.

Darcy hesitated. The last time he's asked that question her answer hadn't done the trick.

"You have to tell me, or I won't help you." His words gusted over her quivering flesh.