“No games tonight, Kira. Not from either of us,” he growled. “And so help me, I better get the woman rather than the agent, or you’ll pay hell for it.”
The slacks cleared his thighs, revealing the thick, heavy length of his erection. It was furiously engorged, the mushroomed crest flushed dark and throbbing, a glimmer of precum glistening erotically.
“You always get the woman, Ian.”
She licked her lips, easing closer, on hands and knees now, starving for a taste, just a taste of the rich male essence tempting her.
“You’re as fucking crazy as I am,” he snarled, reaching out, gripping the thick strands of her hair and pulling her back to her knees.
Dominant, powerful. It was there in his face, it raged in his eyes.
“I want to taste,” she moaned, drugged now on the power, the hunger radiating in his gaze, and the arousal-based adrenaline pumping through her veins.
There were erogenous zones where she didn’t know there were erogenous zones. Hell, every damned cell in her body was erogenous at the moment.
“Me first.” The other warm arm wrapped around her hips, jerking her to him as his wants, by right of might, became uppermost.
As his head lowered, hers snapped forward, her teeth nipping at his lower lip before his fingers pulled her back. The sharp little burn of pulling hair had a shaky groan whimpering from her throat. She loved it. Needed it. She wasn’t submitting. Fuck submission. He might be an alpha male, but by God, she was his match.
Her hands lifted, her nails raking over his chest as his gaze pinned hers. Her lips parted, teeth clenching, as she drew in a ragged breath.
He didn’t flinch from her nails. Instead, his lips curled into a sexual, sensual smile of acknowledgment as the reddish-brown lights in his eyes fired to a darker, burning hue.
She loved it. There was no male irritation because she wasn’t simpering at his feet. And there was no submission in his gaze either. Just pure, blazing hot, male hunger and challenge.
“I don’t give in,” he told her, that raspy tone sending shivers down her spine.
“Neither do I.” She let her fingers play in the silky hairs that grew low on his abdomen.
“I’m stronger,” he promised her.
She smoothed her palms up his stomach, his chest.
“I sure hope so,” she crooned as she captured a hard male nipple against her thumb, and pressed, just enough. “Oh Ian, I definitely hope so.”
His lips slammed over hers as his hands gripped the hem of her top and jerked it over her breasts. He released her lips, just long enough to wrestle her out of the material as she tried to capture his kiss again. She needed the taste and heat of it. The incredible feel of his lips moving over hers, dominating hers despite the sensual struggle she put up.
She wanted to control the kiss, and that was what she fought for. He was determined to control the kiss, and the right of might definitely held sway here. Especially when his arms surrounded her, his head bending, forcing hers against his powerful bicep as he licked and sucked and drove his tongue against hers until she was quivering. Hell, she never quivered for sex. But she was quivering for Ian. Shaking and trembling, her pussy clenching, her breasts throbbing, and imperative, desperate little mewls of pleasure tearing from her throat.
She spread her fingers through his hair and arched closer, rasping her nipples over the luscious mat of hair that covered his chest as his cock slid between her thighs, pressing into the material of her panties, driving her crazy with the need for more.
He pulled her head back, pulling at her hair as the fiery sensation streaked from her head to her nipples, then to her clit. She had never liked having her hair pulled until Ian. Until he showed her the pleasure and the pain, the agony and the ecstasy of being in his arms.
“Just this time,” he groaned, his lips moving down her neck. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re out of my system. Gone. Out of my head.” His tongue licked over her collarbone. “Over.”
“In your dreams.” Her head tipped back as pleasure suffused her. “Oh God, Ian. In your dreams.”
Pleasure like this didn’t just go away. It tortured and tormented after the act, she could feel it, knew it, even though the pleasure itself was so new even to her. The jaded Domme, the feminine sexual dominant that demanded submission from her males. She was no novice to sex play, or to sexual games. But she was a novice to this pleasure, to the sensations rippling through her and holding her spellbound in Ian’s arms.
As his lips surrounded the hard peak of a nipple, her lips went to his neck. Teeth raking, tongue licking, her hands stroking over as much of his flesh as she could reach.
Hard muscle rippled beneath her touch as the heat and suckling pleasure of his mouth threatened to dissolve her. He held her close to him, arms surrounding her, as though he would never let her go. And she didn’t want him to let her go. She wanted him to hold her forever.
“Not enough,” he growled, moving, flipping her back on the bed before she could do more than gasp, and jerking the boxer-type panties from her thighs and over her feet before she could fight.
She moved to twist away from him, to attack him with her own passion, her own needs. Before she could roll from him, his hands pulled her thighs apart, his wide shoulders wedging between them and his lips descending to the bare, saturated folds of her pussy.
Kira froze. She couldn’t help it. Hell, it wasn’t like a man had never gone down on her before; they had. She wasn’t a virgin. She was experienced. Until Ian got his lips in the slick, bare flesh between her thighs. Suddenly, she didn’t know what the hell to do.
Because he didn’t touch her like an unfamiliar lover. He touched her like he knew her. Knew what she wanted. Knew what she needed. Knew that the sudden hard thrust of his tongue into her pussy would freeze her with delirious pleasure.
“Ian?” She stared down her body, watching as his lashes lifted and he stared back at her with slumberous, hungry eyes.
He licked. A long, slow swipe of his tongue that sent a ripple of white-hot sensation racing across her flesh. Especially when he reached her clit, flickered over it, then bestowed a firm, heated kiss to it.
“You don’t like it?” He lifted his head enough to whisper the words, blowing a soft breath over the too-sensitive nub of nerve endings.
She stared into the heavy, brooding gaze. What was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to answer him?