With her or himself? She couldn’t tell. And in that second, with his blunt fingertips dragging down her scalp and pleasure sucking her into its depths, she didn’t care. Just as long as he didn’t let her surface.
“And what are you willing to give me, Devon?” he challenged, trailing a caress from the dip in her collarbone, up the front of her throat, over her chin and to her lips. Leaving fire in its wake. His other hand, twisted in her hair, drew her head back farther, arching her neck tighter as he traced the outline of her mouth. As his finger breached her, sliding over her tongue and then withdrawing to paint her trembling flesh with her own moisture.
“What I can afford to,” she whispered, the answer containing a raw honesty she hadn’t meant to reveal.
But from the heat blazing in his eyes like a strike of lightning, he coveted it.
“I’ll take it,” he said then crushed his mouth to hers.
On a ragged moan, she opened for him, welcomed the demanding thrust of his tongue. Eagerly, she returned the hard, rough sucking. He came at her like a starving man and she was his only sustenance. Not gentle, no manners. Just ravenous and desperate. Wild.
She tore away, gulping in a breath, but he didn’t allow it. He followed her, his lips covering hers again, almost bruising in their greed. The hand not gripping her hair lowered to her neck, circling the front and mimicking the caress from the library. And just like then, lust flared hotter, brighter. Her nipples beaded under her dress, and she cupped her breasts, squeezed, attempting to alleviate the ache.
“Dammit, that’s pretty,” Cain praised, lifting his head and staring down at her kneading hands. He palmed her arms and guided her to her feet. Instinctively, Devon grasped for his shoulders, but he cuffed her wrists and returned her hands to her chest. “Don’t stop,” he ordered, waiting until she resumed her self-ministrations before freeing his grip.
His searing gaze only ratcheted up the clawing need raging through her, not easing it. Whimpering, she rubbed her thumbs over the distended tips, barely aware of him removing her shoes and tugging down her zipper. Air kissed the skin of her back, and she gasped. He drew the sleeves down her arms, her bra swiftly following, and seconds later, she stood half-naked in front of him.
It occurred to her that she should feel some embarrassment being so bared and vulnerable. Especially when her figure resembled nothing close to those of the women she’d seen him with. But, as he stared down at her breasts, the pure lust in those blue-gray eyes banished any doubts or insecurities that would’ve crept in.
He wanted her.
No matter what had brought them together. No matter how much he might resent this and her later... He wanted her.
And for now, it was enough. Had to be.
For both of them.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, stroking up her waist and pausing just under her breasts. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over her jaw, sweeping another caress just under her ear. “Tell me to touch you, sweetheart. Tell me to give us both what we need.”
“Touch me,” she whispered. No hesitation. No reservation. “Give us both what we need. And don’t hold back.”
If tonight was going to be all they had before returning to opposing sides, then she wanted no regrets.
She wanted the everything he’d promised her.
A growl rolled out of him, and his hands rose, claiming her breasts. “I was right.” He squeezed her flesh, plumping it, molding it to his palms. Biting her bottom lip to hold back the tiny scream scaling her throat, she settled for sinking her nails into his forearms. And holding on. His gaze lifted from her nipples to her mouth, and then higher to meet her eyes. “You more than fill my hands. I can’t number how many times I’ve woken up, my fist around my dick, picturing it. Wondering if my imagination neared reality. It didn’t. Reality is so much better.”
Before the shock that he dreamed about her could ebb, his mouth was on her. Tugging, sucking deep, swirling, giving her the barest graze of his teeth. She clutched him—clawed at him—her head thrown back as every swipe of his tongue, every pull on the beaded, overly sensitive tip, echoed in her sex.
This had always been pleasurable in the past, butGod... He shoved her toward the precarious edge of orgasm, and until this moment, she hadn’t known it was possible to come from a man’s mouth on her breasts.
No, not a man.
Cain.
His ravenous mouth shifted, and cool air teased her wet flesh as he engulfed the other aching peak. Whimper after whimper escaped her, and she arched higher, harder into him, granting him access to all of her. Wordlessly begging him to take more, give her more.
And he did.
Just as she demanded, he didn’t hold back, and the first tight contraction in her sex took her by surprise. She gasped, then cried out, her thighs tightening, hips jerking as pleasure swelled and cracked.
Harsh puffs of air wheezed out of her lungs, and she shook not just with the orgasm that gripped her, but with shock. That had never happened to her. And before she could tamp it down, a thread of despair wormed its way into her head. Sex wouldn’t be the same after this. Already he’d redefined the experience, exposing her to things about herself, her body that she hadn’t understood. Now Cain would be the yardstick by which she measured every person after him.
And she suspected—feared—no one would measure up.
His rough chuckle tickled her skin as he lifted his head, lips slightly reddened and damp. Lust blazed in his bright eyes. Lust and a glowing satisfaction. “You need another one, don’t you, sweetheart?” he damn near purred, his thumbs still whisking back and forth over her nipples, making her shift and twist underneath his tormenting hands. “That just took the edge off.”
Helplessly, she nodded. Because, dammit, she stillhurt.
