“Okay, Dani-pie,” he said finally. He tapped her butt, then squeezed. “No sex with anyone else. Now let’s stop the chit chat and get down to business.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t move.
“What?” Blood rushed to her cheeks. He was still looking at her, half-amused. This was supposed to be easy, why did she feel like a virgin on prom night?
“Do you need me to seduce you, Dani? Cause I thought it was pretty clear why I was here.”
“No, I don’t need you to seduce me.” Ughhhh.
He threw his arms wide and cocked his head, his eyes glittering. “All right, then. Come and get it.”
Her mouth dropped open, then she burst out laughing. Exhausting! But also kind of adorable. She took a deep breath and reached for the buttons on his shirt, flicking the top one open. She’d been looking forward to getting her hands on all of that smooth muscle again. Two years was a long time to look but not touch when it came to Dylan Pierce. She deserved a reward.
When she’d opened his dress shirt, he shrugged it off of his shoulders, then reached for the hem of his undershirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it behind him. She ran her palms over his bare chest, biting her lip to keep from moaning.
Dylan had always meticulously removed any chest hair he might sport, and given his dark coloring, she was willing to bet it was a lot. But he had a tattoo on his left pec that she assumed he didn’t want covered—a nautical compass that he’d once told her represented freedom. She had a little bird at the nape of her neck that signified finding her own way. She’d always found it interesting that they’d chosen such similar symbolism. Though, freedom meant something entirely different to Dylan, which was why he was perfect for this.
Dylan watched her touch him, his eyes tracking her skin on his skin, his hands patiently on her waist. When she traced the circle of the compass with her nail, his stomach muscles tightened and his fingers squeezed her flesh. She laughed under her breath, knowing she’d found a secret spot. He’d already found all of hers. It was only fair.
The laughter died on her tongue, though, when his hands dove into her hair and he crashed into her mouth, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. He tilted his head, replacing the bite with just the heat of his open mouth and the soft brush of his lips, sharing her air in some sort of tantric makeout technique that had her heart slamming in her chest. Finally his self-control snapped and he thrust his tongue against hers. The sound he made when he tasted her was pure guttural relief and it echoed through every bone in her body.
He pulled away and smiled, leaving her jaw unhinged as she gaped at him. The edges of her memory of the last time were smudged with tequila, but she didn’t remember that.
“Kiss me like that again,” she breathed.
He blinked, a hint of surprise in his eyes, then one side of his mouth pulled higher and he wrapped her waist with his arm, flipping her onto her back. Her eyes widened, then her toes curled into her sofa. With all these nerves, she’d almost forgotten how fun this was going to be. He stretched out over her, all hardness and heat and did what she asked, no less hungry than the first time.
He moved to her neck, pushing his palms up the outside of her thighs and taking the hem of her pencil dress higher. Then before she’d even registered the loss of his body heat on her belly, he dove downward and pressed one firm kiss between her legs. Her sharp inhale sliced through the quiet of the room. She gripped the edge of the couch until it felt like her fingers were going to break off. Christ, he’d barely touched her.
“So sensitive,” he said, nipping the inside of her thigh as he pulled her panties off.
“Please stop talking.”
Dylan laughed against her skin and the vibration of it tore through her, arching her back. He pressed a hand to the inside of her knee, holding her still while he went to work with his tongue. Each long delicate stroke was a mile, pushing her toward her peak in record time. She hadn’t felt this close so quickly since the last time they did this. Before that, maybe ever. Hell, that kiss had her halfway there.
He switched the direction of his tongue abruptly, and her muscles clenched, her legs shaking. “Okay, okay,” she begged. She wasn’t going to last a minute like this and she really wanted to see his face when she went over the edge. The last time he’d watched her so intensely, his eyes going black, eating up her every move. He’d looked so proud of himself, and—though she’d take this secret to her grave—she might have thought about that expression a few times since.
She tugged on his hair, and he looked up at her, grinning. Then he dragged the back of his hand slowly across his mouth. Gawd.
“Get up here.”
“You say uncle awful easy, Dani.”
A flash of self-consciousness hit her cheeks, but his smile erased it. “Shut up. Take these off.”
He kissed her hard, all tongue and teeth while he undid his belt, shoving his pants down over his hips, then pulling a condom from his wallet. She pressed her teeth into her lower lip in anticipation as he placed himself exactly where she needed him. But just before that first thrust, his eyes went soft, the corners crinkling. His growling, grunting scowl turned upward into the kind of smile that made her heart jump.
She didn’t have much time to analyze it. He rolled his hips, grinding them into hers, and her vision blurred. A desperate sound she’d never heard herself make tumbled from her mouth, and she buried her face in his neck to muffle it.
“Fuck.” She felt the word roll out of his throat from beneath her teeth. His other hand palmed her ass, and he yanked her hips to just the right angle. The one he’d found so easily the first time. Apparently Dylan didn’t need to be taught something twice.
“Dylan—” He was relentless, and the end of her sentence trailed off into a slur.
“I’m right behind you, Dans.” He tugged her hair until her head fell back and kissed her again. This time they were chaste little pecks, one after another, on her top lip then her bottom. There was no growling, just coaxing, smiling. She didn’t need much, and that pushed her over the edge.
She dug her nails into his back, holding on while her body convulsed beyond her control. “Shit. Shit. God.”
Dylan snorted a laugh through tightly clenched teeth. It was a bad habit. She cursed like a sailor when she came, but he was no better a moment later. He pushed forward and rested a hand on the armrest, giving himself the leverage he needed to go faster, deeper. “Fuck, Dani. You are such a fucking goddess.”
She huffed her own laugh through her uneven breaths. What was it they say? Drunk and orgasming men tell no lies? She’d take it.
Dylan collapsed and she held his head in the crook of her elbow while he panted against her chest. She hadn’t even taken her dress off. “You okay there, killer?”