Branded: You Own Me & The Virgin's Night Out (14 page)

“Because I want to fuck you—I’m barely going to make it over to that damn bed and I need a condom.” His voice was still that low, rough rasp, but the words were delivered in a calm, measured tone.

She blushed furiously and then shifted her shoulder, half surprised the skinny strap from the palm-sized purse was still there. It was barely big enough to even be
called
a purse. It had a built-in pocket for her phone, slots for her credit cards and license and just barely enough room for her car keys—
if
she took off the ones she used for work, the card she used at the gym, her library card and all those other stupid cards every place used. Room for her keys…and condoms.

She fumbled for them, her keys falling out. The foil packets escaped her trembling fingers, too. “Son of a bitch.”

He laughed, bending down to scoop everything off the floor and then he whispered, “Put your purse down before I make you drop that, too.”

She eased around him and went to set the purse down on the small table just inside the door. Faint light filtered in from the street, enough to let her know the room was a mirror to the one she had on the floor above.

She didn’t need to be staying here.

She had a room at the ranch whenever she came home.

But if she’d stayed there, she never would have had the nerve to do what she’d done. Not with Tyler looking on.

Warm hands came up to grip her waist and she went still as he pulled her back against him. Abruptly, she wanted to ask his name. Wanted to know who he was, why he was in Nowhere, how long he’d be here—

But she shoved the questions down.

She didn’t need to know anything except the fact that he made her feel…wanted.

One hand slid over her belly, down…down.

She froze and wrenched away, one small, niggling detail surfacing in the back of her lust-dazed mind.

“Are you married?” she demanded.

There wasn’t even a hesitation. “No.”

“Good.” She nodded, nerves battering at her now. The questions she’d shoved down surged back to the fore and she found herself babbling. “I’m not, either. Married, I mean. I was engaged once, but that didn’t work out. We were—oh…”

He caught her around the waist, pulled her flush against him.

“I know you’re not married,” he whispered against her mouth.

“How do you know that?”

“You’re just not the kind of woman who’d be here with me if you

were.”

“And you figured all of this out just by dancing with me?”

His mouth trailed along her cheek, up to her ear, down her neck. “I knew it practically within moments of seeing you.” Brushing aside one strap of her dress, he pressed his mouth to her shoulder. “If you’ve changed your mind, now’s the time to tell me.”

“I’m not—I haven’t changed my mind.”

When he lifted his head, Sloane could make out the glitter of his eyes in the darkness of the room. She couldn’t see him clearly, but her memory filled in the details. Pale blue eyes, a face that was hard and harsh, almost too harsh. He’d be handsome in a craggy way, she thought, if he smiled.

But there was something forbidding about him.

If she was smart, she
would
change her mind.

Sloane had spent her entire life being smart. And she’d spent too much of her life lonely. Safe, sure. But lonely.

She reached up and touched his cheek, her fingers seeking out a scar she’d seen earlier, a thin one that started near his left eyebrow and travelled at an angle down toward his ear. “I’m not changing my mind,” she said again.

“Then I want you naked.”

He caught the straps of her dress and in what seemed like the blink of an eye, she stood in front of him, wear nothing more than a pair of panties. And she already knew how poor a barrier those panties were when it came to him.

Maybe he’d thought it would give her one last chance to think it through. The nerves and the hesitancy he kept seeing in her eyes managed to be both tempting and terrifying. He knew how to handle women who knew the game. Quick anonymous sex was the only way he knew. Okay, maybe not
quick
.

But this woman flooded him with conflicting needs—he wanted to push her up against the wall and drive inside her, hard and fast. At the same time, he wanted to spread her out in the sunlight and learn every curve, every line. Wanted to learn what made her sigh and make her gasp.

And he wanted her fucking name.

Because he wanted that so bad, he thought it would be best if he
could
make her leave. That rough gesture, grabbing her dress and stripping it away with the abruptness a teenage boy would have shown his first time, had been done to shock. He’d been prepared to see the nerves—then do something else to spike those nerves into something else, maybe even a little fear as she stood there all but naked in front of him.

She wore nothing under the dress save for her panties. Her hair fell free from the dress he’d just dropped, falling down to shield her breasts, the ends brushing her hips.

His so-called plan to save her from himself fell into ashes around him as he went to his knees.

“You’re beautiful.”

He half-listened for the normal comments he was used to hearing—
no, I’m not. I’m too fat, my boobs aren’t big enough, my hips are too big…

But she was silent. He reached out and caught her hips, tugged her in close so he could press his mouth to the soft curve of her belly. Her hair brushed his hands and he looked up to see her head slumped.

She braced her hands on his shoulders as a shaky sigh escaped her. “If you keep that up, I might fall down,” she said, her voice soft.

In an instant, he stood. “Then let’s just take care of that.”

The hotel bed was surprisingly comfortable and he caught the blanket in his fist, jerked it back, flinging it to the far side of the room. If he left it anywhere close, he could already see her trying to hide behind it. He lay her down on the bed and took a moment to stare. Maybe she hadn’t wanted the light on, but Boone could see her just fine, thanks to the light coming in through the window, filtering in through the sheer panels. There were light-darkening curtains, but he hadn’t pulled those yet and he was grateful.

He had all the light he needed to admire the long, muscled length of her legs, the flare of her hips. She went to lift her knee, shielding herself and he caught her ankle, dragging it down. She resisted at first but then relaxed.

He caught the waistband of her panties and tugged them down, tossing them to the side of the room before he stretched out next to her. “You…” She hesitated and he heard her swallow as he trailed his fingers along the line of her collarbone. “You’re still dressed.”

“Yeah.” He pushed up onto his elbow and started to follow the line his fingers had taken, brushing his lips across smooth, soft skin. The scent of her flooded his head. Something soft and sweet, just barely there. “I’ll get around to dealing with that.”

Covering her belly with his palm, he eased his mouth lower and lower. Her breasts were small and firm, the nipples tight. He tugged on one with his teeth and when she muffled her moan by biting her lip, he sighed. Her skin broke out into goosebumps and he took his time to tease her other nipple into a tight, hard bud and then blew on it, watching as she shivered. “The harder you try to be quiet, the more determined I am to hear you break for me.”

He flicked her a look and then pressed a kiss to the middle of her chest, easing a little lower before he did the same thing, then lower and lower.

She caught his shoulders, fisting her hands in the material of his shirt. “Wait—what are you…you…”

He licked at the crease of her thigh. “You just lie back. You better get ready, because I’m getting determined at this point.”

“Determined to do what?”

“Hear you moan.” He was closer now and her breathing hitched. He shot one more look up at her before he lowered his mouth.

The first taste of her made
him
groan.

Whether or not she made any sound, he didn’t know because he was too lost in the sound of blood roaring, all but clamoring in his ears as he fought his own greed.
More…more…more
—

She bucked against him. Bracing his arm over her hips, he held her down as he used his tongue to open her.

A soft cry bounced off the walls but he didn’t take the time to enjoy that small victory. He was too busy enjoying
her
. Her hands left his shoulder, one of them brushing against the side of his head before falling away. He shifted his rhythm and her hand returned, firmer and he followed her cue. The feel of her nails biting into the nape of his neck, the way she shuddered and lifted her hips to his mouth—it had his cock throbbing, pulsing.

He thought he just might die if he didn’t feel her come around him soon.

He thought he’d almost kill before he’d stop doing what he was doing.

She was shaking, shuddering from her climax—and moaning—when he finally lifted his head. He licked his lips, savoring that taste of her as he settled on his heels between her legs. She lay there, loose and limp, her lashes down low, her chest rising and falling with the broken pattern of her breathing. He stripped his shirt away, tossing it off into the darkness.

He fought with his buckle, saw that his hands were shaking. He could take out a target at two thousand yards and his hands would be completely steady. But this woman had reduced him to this.

Too impatient to deal with his boots, he fumbled with his jeans, grimacing at the almost painful release of pressure once he freed his cock. He chanced a glance upward and immediately swore. She had opened her eyes, a sleepy, sated look on her face, one that was both heated and shy as she watched him.

The three condoms he’d taken from her suddenly seemed like a miserable amount. He could imagine spending the next eight, ten,

twelve hours—hell, the next week wrapped around her body, feeling her wrapped around him.

Her shaky sigh came to him and he hurriedly dealt with the condom, tossing the other two onto the nightstand before he came down over her, staring at her in the dim light. It wasn’t enough now. It didn’t matter that he could see her face, that top-heavy mouth or the way her lips parted as he settled between her thighs.

He wanted to see the color her skin would go as he brought her to orgasm and he wanted to see just how dark and silken her hair looked spread out on his pillow.

He caught one thigh in his hand, brought it up to his hip. It opened her and he slid against her, not trying to enter her, just feeling her—the silken kiss of her pussy against his cock had him gritting his teeth.

This wouldn’t last.

Sliding his hand down, he reached down, seeking out the knot of her clit. She moaned. He wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t notice she still bit her lip. He did the same and then soothed the small hurt with his tongue. “You’re going to stop that. I’ll make you scream before I’m done.”

She whimpered and rocked up against his hand and he followed each sound, each sigh until she was sweating and writhing under his hand, her mouth blindly seeking out his.

This time, when she came, she moaned into his mouth.

Boone couldn’t wait any longer. Wedging himself between her widespread thighs, he tucked his aching cock against her entrance. She shuddered and arched up.

He groaned and drove down.

She was tight, gripping him like a fist, a broken sound escaping her.

He caught it with his lips and withdrew, mindless with need for her. As she lifted her hips, he drove in, hard, deep—

She screamed.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out the scream wasn’t all pleasure.

Hovering on the fine edge of pleasure and pain, Sloane stared up

at him.

She felt impaled by him—completely. She felt too full and every little shift of her body wedged him deeper and deeper.

Rolling her hips, trying to find a more comfortable position, she felt him shudder.

“Fuck—don’t…” His head dropped onto the pillow next to hers. “Don’t do that. Let me…I’m going to pull out.”

She tensed up and then, following instinct, she wrapped her legs around his hips. “Like hell.”

His body tensed. “You’re a fucking virgin.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Aren’t you?” When she didn’t respond, he lifted his head and this time, thanks to the fact that her eyes were adjusting and thanks to the dim light filtering in through the curtains, she could almost make out his features—and she could see his eyes, the glint of them as he focused on her face.

She still had that odd feeling he could see her much more clearly than she could see him. Determined to brazen her way through it, she shrugged. “Well, I’m not now.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be.”

He made a movement like he was going to try to pull away and she tightened her legs and arched against him.

A long, low groan rumbled out of him. “Would you…stop…just stop.” In contrast to his words, he rocked against her and it brought a wave of pleasure that edged back the miserable discomfort still twisting inside her.

“No.” She closed her eyes and focused on the heat building in her core—on the way she could feel the heated ridge of his length inside her. He pulsed and she gasped. Her muscles clenched around him.

That brought a ragged snarl to his lips.

So she did it again.

He drove his hips into her, a short, shallow thrust that barely hurt

at all and she whimpered.

“This is fucking insane,” he muttered, skimming his lips along her cheek. “I don’t sleep with virgins.”

“We won’t sleep then.” She grabbed at his biceps and twisted her hips, trying to take him deeper when he did another one of those short, shallow thrusts.

He took her mouth then, reaching behind to unlock her ankles from where she’d hooked them over his ass. She resisted and he rubbed his lips over her mouth. “You win, angel.” The words were a harsh growl against her lips. “Damn us both. I can’t even think about stopping.”

She let him shift her then and he gripped one knee, held it to his hip. Sloane closed her eyes as he pulled out, moaned as he slowly surged back in.

“That’s it.”

She opened her eyes, confused.

“Moan. I want to hear it…everything I make you feel. Moan, scream…” He bit her lower lip. “Beg.”

He twisted his hips and it had him butting up against something deep inside her. Her eyes flew wide. Fire started to pulse inside her, licking at her veins, threatening to burn her from the inside out.

“There?” He fisted a hand in her hair when she tried to turn her head away. “No. Look at me. I want to see you. Don’t close your eyes, either.”

She sucked in a breath. “You…” She shuddered as he slowed his thrusts. He barely withdrew now so it was an endless caress. “That’s…”

She didn’t know what she was trying to say and he kept watching her. Under those too-watchful eyes, she felt stripped to the bone and in desperation, she curled an arm around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers.

Her pussy was a fist around his cock.

He tilted her hips up, changed his angle just a little and felt it—

her body went tight and now, each time he rocked up against her, it

was like she was milking him, tighter and tighter until he thought he’d

go insane.

Boone could feel the sweat sliding down his spine, could feel the need to come building at the base of his spine, tightening his balls, but he held it off. Not until she came.

A fucking virgin—

He shifted his grip on her hip and tucked her up higher against him, lifting his weight off her, then pulled out, almost completely. When he slid back inside, he let his body drag against hers and he felt her nipples rub against him, the silk of her belly, the satin of her thighs and it was the sweetest of tortures.

She cried out—and she didn’t even think to silence it.

He repeated that same action and she started to tremble.

Again…again…

On the fifth stroke, she planted her heels on the bed and arched up, rising to meet him. His lower body went tight and he thought he’d die if she didn’t—

She climaxed.

He felt it, starting in her belly and then spreading out, as her pussy began to grip him, tight rhythmic sensations as her body began to shudder with the force of it.

Yes—

He let go then. Shoving back onto his knees, he caught her hips and drove in, deep, hard. She cried out, a low, keening sound that tripped down his spine and all but wrapped a fist around his balls.

Not enough
.

This one time was not enough.