Her fingers stroked his burning cock as her tongue came within inches, inches. He was shaking with anticipation, sweat building on his body and running in small rivulets down his chest as he fought to hold on to his control.
“Maggie. God, baby. Tell me you’re awake.” His hands clenched on the slats and he blinked back the sweat dripping to his eyes as he told himself to stop her. To put an end to the sweet torment before she took a bite out of him that he might not recover from. Maggie could be amazingly fiery, both in passion and in her fury.
He could move his hands. He could grip her head and force her to stop. But he was terrified that if he let go of the death grip he had on the bed, that rather than waking her as he pulled her from him, he would awaken her as he filled her mouth instead.
“God. Damn, Maggie.” His ragged cry filled the darkness as her tongue swiped over the head of his cock. The hardened flesh flexed then spurted a hard stream of pre-come to her waiting lips.
Shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
But her murmur of appreciation was followed by burning ecstasy. Her mouth enveloped the thick head, her tongue swirling around it, probing at the small eye as she greedily consumed him. Arching to her as another curse tore past his lips, he thrust deeper, feeling her lips tighten on him, her tongue lashing at him.
Ah God. He had to stop this. Didn’t he?
How? How the hell was he supposed to find the strength to make her stop?
“Maggie, baby … please …,” he groaned harshly as she began to suck him with slow, tight strokes of her mouth.
Nearly to her throat, only to retreat, her tongue laving with quick little licks before sinking down again, her lips meeting her fingers as she stroked the lower portion of his shaft.
She was going to destroy him. Tonight, she would steal his soul and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Once he spilled into her mouth there would be no returning to sanity. There never had been. Like an animal, reality receded and nothing mattered but spreading her thighs and fucking them both into exhaustion.
“God yes.” He blinked again against the moisture stinging his eyes as his hips moved to her suckling mouth. Thrusting in and out, his scrotum tightening until pleasure was near pain and the need to come was torture.
“There you go, sweetheart,” he panted. “Hell yes. Suck it, baby. Suck it so deep and good. Your mouth is heaven, Maggie. Paradise.”
He strained in her grip, desperate to reach deeper, to thrust harder. He fought the need to climax, his head thrashing on the pillow as he fought it with every ounce of control he could hang on to.
She was unaware of what she was doing. Surely she was. She had gone to bed furious with him, hadn’t she?
Then she moved again, sliding between his thighs, one hand cupping the tight sack beneath his cock as she took him deeper, moaned, and her eyes opened in drowsy sensuality.
There was no shock. Green eyes stared back at him with drugged lust as her entire mouth caressed him, flexed around him, and he was lost. She knew what the hell she was doing. Just as she always had.
A hard growl tore from his lips as he drove hard against her grip and lost the last threads of control. He felt his semen exploding into her mouth, her lips moving as she consumed him, accepting his release as her hands stroked, caressed. Her tongue milked at the underside of his cock, urging more of the creamy release to her mouth as she moaned in rising hunger.
“I tried.” His hands tore from the slats of the headboard. “God help us both, Maggie, I tried …”
6
She was so weak. Maggie cursed her weakness even as she let Joe bear her to her back on the bed. He was her weakness. His lips on hers, the sharp, fierce kisses that left her drugged as his hands pulled at her shirt. He lifted only enough to drag the material over her head and toss it aside before he was back.
Cool air rippled over the tender, aching tips of her breasts only a second before Joe’s heat enveloped her once again. He had that power, the power to warm her, to fuel a fire inside her so hot, so desperate that nothing mattered but his touch.
Maggie opened to him, her hands clutching at his back as the rasp of his chest hair stimulated her sensitive nipples and stole her breath with the pleasure. So good. It had been so long. Too long without him, without his touch. She had sworn she wouldn’t let this happen, but her own dreams and hunger had stolen her will.
She had dreamed of him every night that they had been apart. Aching dreams. Dreams of anger or of lust. Dreams of reunion or of parting. It didn’t matter which, she looked forward to each one, to touching him, to seeing him, if only in those dreams.
But this hadn’t been a dream. When she slowly awake, forgetting for a few brief moments where they were, and the trouble she was in, Maggie had touched him. Her hand sliding over his abdomen. Her body heating with need. Just as quickly reality had tried to intrude. But Joe was there, tense but quiet beneath her touch, letting her lead.
He had never done that before. Never had he lain back and allowed her to set the pace of any part of their lovemaking.
Having that control had broken her resolve. That and her own hunger. God, such hunger for him. She couldn’t bear the longing whipping through her, the emotions tearing into her heart, filling her soul.
As she moved between his thighs she had expected him to dominate the act, to move her head as he wanted it, to hold her to him as he took over the pace. Instead, his ragged voice had encouraged her as he arched to her. His hands had gripped the headboard, his body tight, tortured with need.
And now she arched to him. As his lips moved from hers, to her neck, then her breasts, his hands pushed at the pajama bottoms she wore.
Heat built around them until Maggie felt perspiration coat her flesh. Reaching for him, a whimper left her lips as he caught her hands and stretched her arms above her head.
“Hold on,” he growled. “It’s my turn now.”
Her fingers latched onto the slats behind her as she watched him with dazed fascination. The expression on his face was one she had never seen, not at any time before. Savagery tightened it as hunger lent a dark cast that sent a shiver racing down her spine. He wanted her, wanted her with a depth and a strength she had never seen in him before.
His head lowered over a breast again, his lips poised just above the hard point rising eagerly toward him. His gaze lifted, meeting hers in the dim light of the room as his tongue extended to lick over the stiff peak, demanding that she watch. That she see the naked lust and pleasure tearing through him, as it tore through her. Sensation whipped through her, jerking her body violently upwards as a cry left her lips.