Beg for Mercy (40 page)

One last kiss and she paused, reached for the bottle of shampoo and handed it to him. “Wash my hair,” she ordered. Eyes closed, she tipped her head back under the spray. She was gorgeous, her hair slicked back and throwing her delicate features into stark relief, her eyelashes thick, dark shadows on her cheekbones. He lathered her hair, drinking in every sweet inch of her, savoring the heavy weight of her hair in his hands, her wet skin against his as he pulled her close.

He tipped her head back under theter, and her hands came up to help rinse out the shampoo. With her back arched and her arms raised, her breasts tilted to the ceiling. Drops of water slid down her throat and chest, catching on the dark pink tips of her nipples until he couldn’t stop himself from flicking his tongue out to catch one. She gave a little gasp, and her hands moved from her head to his, her fingers threading through his hair to guide his head up so she could reach his mouth.

He reached behind her and turned off the water, then blindly swept back the curtain. He groped for a towel, his mouth never leaving hers, and clumsily blotted at both their bodies as he guided them out of the tub and into his bedroom. He was drowning in her, her taste, her scent, her feel, and he never wanted to come up for air.

His cock was so hard he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin, but he resisted the primal drive to thrust blindly into her wet heat and finish too soon. He’d gone fast and furious at her the night before, and now he wanted to taste every patch of skin he’d missed.

“Please, Cole,” she said as he bent his head to suck at her nipples. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Be patient,” he said, and sucked her nipple hard. “I’ve come up with about a hundred different ways to make you come in the past few years, and tonight I’m hoping to try at least a dozen.”

“I could make some suggestions,” she said as he slid his mouth down the smooth, pale skin of her stomach.

“I think I’ve got it covered.” He planted a kiss right above the soft tuft of curls at the top of her mound and sank to his knees beside the bed, shifting her so her knees rested on his shoulders. The scent of her flooded his senses, sending a jolt of heat down his spine.

“Oh, I guess you do,” she said, and gasped as Cole planted an openmouthed kiss on the skin of her inner thigh.

A quiver ran through her as he licked higher, flicking along the crease where her leg met her body. So close, but miles from what he wanted.

What she needed.

With her legs hooked over his shoulders and her hips tilted slightly off the bed, she was open to his gaze. “God, you’re pretty,” he murmured, taking a moment to look his fill. Other than a little modest patch, she was smooth, her bare sex slick with need. Her clit was a shiny little bud, firm and ready and begging to be tasted.

He spread her open with his thumbs and bent his head to feast, licking, sucking, stroking her clit in long slides and tight little circles until she was running hot and wet and rocking against his face. “God, you taste so good,” he groaned, salty sweet and spice all at the same time.
She arched off the bed, her heels digging into his back as he sucked her into his mouth, stroked her with his tongue.

He licked lower and slid his tongue inside, fucking her with his tongue as she writhed and moaned. His cock throbbed, insistent in its need to take his tongue’s place. Cole shoved the demands of his own body aside. Right now it felt too good to satisfy Megan’s. Every moan, every sigh, every rush of moisture his lips, tongue, and fingers teased from made him feel like a fucking king.

And when he sucked her clit into his mouth and slid one, then two fingers high inside her and felt the rhythmic tightening of her body as she came on an endless wave, he felt like he had just seen the face of God.

He gave her one last, lingering kiss and let her legs slide down his arms as he rose from the floor. His dick was painfully hard, his balls drawn tight against his body, and every nerve ending sizzled with need. He put one knee on the bed and reached for her, but Megan rolled to her knees and wrapped his cock in her warm, firm grip.

Breath hissed between his teeth as she bent her head, and then, oh, Christ, yes, pressed her lips to the swollen head. Cole reached down to brush back her dark curtain of hair so he could see her hot little tongue circle the tip, lick up a drop of precome. He clenched his jaw, willing his orgasm back as she ran her tongue up and down his shaft, licking and squeezing until he was going out of his mind.

“Megan, God, you’re driving me crazy. Jesus, please,” he muttered, not sure what he was begging for, his universe shrinking until all he knew was her mouth and hands on his cock and the arousal heating to a nearly painful pitch.

She sucked him into her mouth, and he let out a shout, feeling the pressure build at the base of his spine as she took him as deep as he could go. Christ, he’d spent hours fantasizing about this, but nothing he could imagine ever came close. His imagination couldn’t possibly touch the reality of Megan taking his cock in her mouth like she was starving for the taste of him, the little sounds she made in her throat as she sucked him off, her silky hair slipping through his fingers, the clean scents of soap and shampoo mixing with the musk of sex.

Another pump of her hand almost sent him over the edge, and he reluctantly pulled her head up. As unbelievably good as it felt, he didn’t want to come this way. He wanted to come inside her, buried deep, feeling her take everything he had.

The need to have her, claim her, rose in his blood, primal and savage. He rolled her to her front and pulled her onto her knees. She was so beautiful, the curve of her spine, the silky smooth skin of her back. Her round ass tilted up, the wet, pink folds of her sex beckoning him in.

He wrapped one hand around her hip and the other around his cock and guided himself to her entrance. He squeezed inside, watching his cock disappear into her heat, the pleasure so keen he thought the top of his head might blow off.

She was wet, but so tight. He forced himself not to shove into her full force. But Megan was watching him over her shoulder, her eyes dark and mysterious, her mouth red and swollen. “Please,” she moaned, rocking her ass back against him, taking him deeper with every stroke. “I need you, need you…”

Her breath exploded on a high sound of pleasure as he
shoved into her full length, pulled almost all the way out and pushed all the way back inside. She spread her knees wide and rocked back to meet the surge of his hips, her moans growing louder with every stroke.

He could feel her tight and pulsing around his cock, could see the muscles in her back tighten with She was so close and so was he, his orgasm bearing down on him with the force of a freight train as he struggled to hold out a few seconds longer.

He reached around and found the firm swell of her clit, their moans mingling as her muscles clenched around him. His fingers slipped and slid against her in concert with his thrusts, heightening her pleasure as he strove to hold his at bay.

“That’s it,” he whispered as she stiffened against him, every muscle in her body tensing. “I want to feel you come, Megan. I want to make you feel so good….”

Her cries echoed through the room as she shook with release around him, her sex kneading and squeezing him like a tight, wet fist. He jerked and pulsed inside her, turning inside out, coming with such force his vision darkened and he was afraid he might pass out.

He fell forward on her, barely catching himself before he crushed her. He rolled her to her back and looked into her dazed green eyes, wanting to say something but afraid he’d burst into tears if he opened his mouth. God, he’d never felt anything like he felt right now, the desperation to keep her close, keep her safe, a compulsion no amount of sex could ever take the edge off of.

She cradled his cheek in her hand and pressed her lips to his in a kiss full of lazy satisfaction and pure, unadulterated affection.

Cole felt the impact like a hydrogen bomb going off in his chest.

Jesus, I love her.

He swallowed past the softball-size lump in his throat and pressed his lips harder against Megan’s to mask the slight tremble in his. He pulled her tight against him, skin to skin as he swept his tongue in her mouth, tasting her in lazy strokes. Relishing every detail of lying naked next to the woman he… loved.

He’d tried to hold it at bay, tried to chalk it up to unsatisfied lust, unresolved guilt over how he’d treated her after Sean’s arrest. Told himself what he felt for her couldn’t possibly run that deep.

But he couldn’t run from it anymore, couldn’t deny what he’d known practically from their first date. He’d tried to deny it then, had denied it for the past three years even as she haunted his days and nights.

Maybe there was a way. What if by some miracle they managed to uncover evidence that would exonerate Sean? Would that be enough for Megan to give them a second chance?

Don’t even go there,
he told himself even as he pulled Megan tighter. He was a realist, and the reality was there was almost zero chance of him and Megan working out.

Recognizing his emotions had long since crossed the line from attraction to crazy, balls-out in love with her didn’t change anything.

He’d get over it, he told himself as he ran his hand down the smooth bare skin of her back, squeezed the lush curve of her hip.

It might take him a little while, but he’d get over it. He’d gotten over his share of heartache, and knowing
atever he had with Megan would end sooner rather than later would be enough to stave off total annihilation.

Right. Because you had such an easy time getting her out of your head the last time around.

Cole ignored the voice and pulled Megan closer, determined to savor every second he did have with her. It would be enough. It had to be.

Rain ran down his face, soaking him to the skin, but its frigid bite did nothing to cool the rage swelling inside him. He wanted to scream at what he saw through the slats of the blinds. His Megan, splayed out like a whore, letting that disgusting cop fuck her. Putting her filthy mouth on his cock, letting him put his mouth between her legs. Her face flushed, mouth open, making disgusting sounds he could hear through the glass.

Soiling her.
Ruining her.
Ruining everything.

You were supposed to save me.

He should have known the second he snuck into her apartment and found her bed empty. Should have known when that guard dog of a cop had followed her in.

He was so naïve, convinced that she was good, that she was pure. His Megan would never give herself to another man, especially not to the cop who had arrested her beloved brother. He should have known. He should have kept a closer watch on her like he did all the other whores.

But he’d trusted. Blindly. Stupidly.

His hand formed into a fist to punch through the window. He was going to slaughter them both. Tie her down
and fuck her until she screamed and force Williams to watch. He’d cut her throat, cut off Williams’s balls and let them watch each other bleed to death.

His hand slid to the knife tucked in his waistband.

NO!
The voice penetrated the red haze saturating his mind like blood spray. He forced himself to look away from their sweaty, tangled bodies.

He pulled out the knife and ran it across his own wrist. Focus on the pain, the warmth of the blood dripping into his glove. The beast in him roared, struggling to break free, but he beat it back. He couldn’t lose control, not yet.

His sharp breaths slowed.

His mind cleared.

He would kill her, but not yet. Not in a fit of blind rage. For her, he would do something special. A date with the Monster.