And as annoying as Devlin Fox could be, Tara didn’t want to see him pounded into the ground.
Clearly, they needed to wait for an opportunity to sneak away.
When Avery announced the next game,
Dom Pong
—which was similar to
Beer Pong
, but with ball gags—Tara knew it was time. She waited until Bella and Holt were deeply engrossed in the game, shot a look at Devlin—who, to her annoyance had put his shirt back on—and notched her head.
His nostrils flared. He glanced at Holt and then slowly made his way to the stairs and disappeared.
After a moment, Tara followed.
It was a shock to the system to emerge from the rollicking, shadowed dungeon into the brightly lit, deserted, great room.
As she came through the door, Devlin caught her around the waist and backed her up against the wall.
His mouth was hot, hungry, savage on hers.
“God,” he whispered. “I want you.”
“Not here,” she murmured against his lips. Because she knew
if she didn’t say the words, they would. Right. Here.
Her body was on fire for him and she could tell, from the hum of arousal in him, he was mad for her as well.
He continued to kiss her, moving toward the stairs leading to the upper floor. They bumped into furniture and nearly toppled a lamp in their frenzy to make it to a private space. Finally, he separated from her, took her hand and bolted up the stairs. Several of the rooms on the second floor were locked. The passionate moans and groans emanating from them only fueled their fire.
Devlin ignored the rest of the doors, continuing up to the third floor. He pulled her into the first room he found
free and backed her against the wall, kicking the door closed.
They
came together in a rush. A crazed scramble ensued as he unlaced her corset and pulled off her shirt as she wrestled with his. They finally gave up, and each undressed themselves, tossing their clothes into an unruly pile on the floor until they wore nothing but underwear.
He fell onto the bed, pulling her with him, fiddling with her bra snap. “Damn thing,” he grumbled.
She laughed. “Let me.” She sat back and reached behind her, unfastening her bra. He hissed in a breath when her breasts tumbled free.
“Jesus.” He captured each globe in a hand and brought them to his mouth, one after the other, drawing them in with long, lingering sucks.
She shivered. The heat of his hands on her flesh was invigorating. His touch set her afire. She angled a knee over his torso and straddled him, encouraging him to feast. As he did, she explored his shoulders, his bulging biceps with trembling fingers. Unable to resist, she scored his back with her nails.
He growled and buried his face in her cleavage. “God. God.” He leaned back and pulled her on top of him, settling her groin on his. The pressure of his erection was nearly painful. She rubbed against him like a cat, massaging her thrumming clit through their underwear.
As she did so, she kissed the underside of his chin and, liking the taste of him, lapped. He shivered. She scooted lower, kissing and stroking his chest, nibbling on his nipples until he wheezed a plea of some kind. She had no idea for what he begged—or perhaps a small idea. She continued lower, licking and lapping his magnificent cut abs, exploring them with such devilish attention he began to writhe.
They both knew where this was heading, but she was determined to make him suffer. Her ass still burned from the spanking he’d given her.
She would have her mouth on him soon—just not too soon.
When she reached the band of his underwear, she traced his cock. Thick. Full. Throbbing. It jerked at her touch. She glanced up at him to see him staring at her with glittering eyes. His Adam’s apple worked. She grinned and exhaled a hot breath over him.
He threw back his head with a groan. “Ah…baby…”
Slowly she eased down his underwear, exposing his cock. Her
pulse surged. It was beautiful. Simply beautiful. Her mouth watered. She swallowed heavily. She took him in her fist and stroked.
“I’m s
orry, Devlin,” she murmured.
He jerked up. “What?” he squawked. “Sorry for what?”
The look she sent him was scorching. “Sorry that I don’t have any peanut butter,” she said. And then she took him in her mouth.
Devlin’s muscles locked. His breath escaped in a harsh rush. His pulse jerked.
Tara’s lips encased him and she nibbled the swollen head of his cock.
Delight skittered up his spine. Insanity clouded his brain.
Jesus, God she was beautiful, perfect.
She took him deeper, dragging her velvety mouth over his glans, burying him in her throat. Her muscles worked him as she made her way up and down and up again. Then she took up a heinous rhythm, fucking him with her mouth, her fist playing a fiendish counterpoint along his length. He fought back a shiver, but it took him when her hand twisted around his length in a corkscrew motion, when her finger slid along his sensitive flesh to toy with his ass.
“Jesus,” he roared, sinking his hands into her hair. Desperately trying to guide her motions. When she would not allow that, he grabbed her shoulders and hauled her up, over him. She felt so good, her weight on his body, her warmth soaking into him. He fumbled with her panties, tugging them down. “In,” he said. “I need in.”
She set her hand on his and stilled, meeting his gaze. “Do you…”
“What?”
What? What?
“Do you have a condom?”
Shit.
Shit.
He’d nearly forgotten
again
. “In my jeans.”
He shifted her off him, over to the side, though clearly she wanted to leap for his jeans.
But he didn’t trust her around his jeans. He found them in the pile on the floor and fished around until he came up with the foil packet. He ripped it open with his teeth and returned to the bed, where she crouched, watching him like a hungry lioness.
He’d had every intention
of lying back down, of guiding her atop him, of watching as she sank down onto his cock and rode him, but when he saw her there like that, hair mussed, eyes wild, he knew he had to take her from behind.
“Get on your knees,” he commanded as he slipped the condom onto his aching cock. A skitter of elation tore through him when she complied, presenting herself to hi
m with knees wide. She glanced at him over her shoulder and when he didn’t move quickly enough, when he didn’t cover her and sink into her like a savage beast, she wiggled her ass.
He couldn’t help it.
His hand came down on one fleshy globe before he could stop it. She hissed in a growl. Her expression became even steamier.
“Did you like that spanking?” he asked, kneeling on the bed behind her and setting himself to her gleaming opening.
“Yes.”
He smacked her again, loving her
response.
They were both feral. Like animals in the wild, mating.
He spread her cheeks and lifted her, just a tad, and sank in.
He did it slow, determined to tease her, to make her body ache for him, ache for more. Judging from her guttural groan, he hit the mark as he eased in deep. But he was teasing himself as well. He wanted to thrust. He wanted to plunge. He wanted to possess her in a wild frenzy.
But he didn’t.
In. Out. In. Slow. Lazy. Languorously.
Her cunt was tight. Hot. Wet. She clenched him in a mind-boggling grip with each withdrawal. And with each withdrawal, new skeins of agony wound through his loins.
“More,” she whimpered, burying her head in her arms. “More.”
Oh, he gave her more.
First, a smack on the ass, hard enough that the crack resounded through the room. Hard enough that his handprint
rose on her creamy cheek. Gratification flooded him at the sight.
She tightened around him as his hand fell. And he nearly lost his load right then and there. He clenched his ass to keep it in. Forced his mind to focus on holding back what his body so desperately wanted to give.
Because he wanted more.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her hard against him, hunching over her so with every thrust, their bodies rubbed together. He explored her from this angle and that, looking, searching and finding what gave her the most pleasure. “You like that, baby?
You like that?” he murmured in her ear as he landed one hard thrust.
“Yes
. Yes.”
He pulled out, nearly all the way, and then thrust home, making it a point to hit her there again, at that angle, the one that made her quiver and quake.
“Yes.” She pushed back, matching his lunges with little thrusts of her own. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, punctuated by her moans and his groans.
His pace increased.
He wanted to go slow. He wanted to make her beg. But he was a weak man. Faster and faster, in greater and greater frenzy, he took her, possessed her, dominated her body with his. And she gave back everything, measure for measure.
It occurred to him, as he fucked her in a
fury of mindless passion, that he’d never had a partner quite like her. Never known a woman to give as good as she got, to challenge him, to demand of him that which he was desperate to give. She was as close to perfect as a woman could ever come.
And then all thoughts flew.
All sanity.
All logic.
She came around him.
Fantastically. Her body devolved into a series of shivers and quivers and manic thrusts, milking him, stroking him, taking him right along with her.
Stiffening, shuddering, she threw back her head and wailed.
Her grip on his cock was blinding. A scorching wave overcame him. Consumed him. He erupted. Sank into a swell of
bliss. Bliss twined with sizzling agony. With release, relief and…regret.
Regret
that it was over.
When they were finished, s
till quaking in the aftermath of an all consuming orgasm, he pulled out, stripped off the condom and tossed it into the trash can, wrapped her in his arms and held her. Simply held her, savoring the feel her soft skin against his. Counting the beats of her heart as it thudded against his. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent.
He could lay like this, stay like this, forever.
Of course, it was not forever.
Far too soon she stirred.
He tightened his hold. “You’re not leaving.” A dark murmur.
To his
consternation, she chuckled. “We should get back to the party.”
“Not yet.” He wanted to recuperate. Wanted to have her again. Before she escaped. Hopefully, not with his jeans. He dipped his head and kissed her, loving the taste of her on his tongue.
But again, she shifted. Pulled away. “We should get back.”
Annoyance
slithered through him. “Why?”
She wriggled from his embrace and found her bra. He hated watching her put it on. “Holt.”
He shot up and frowned at her. Jealousy skewered his gut. “Holt?” She was thinking of another man? After
that
?
She chuckled at his
dismay, which was irritating as hell. “He’ll be wondering where I am.”
Devlin couldn’t hold back his
snarl. “Are you and he…”
Her chuckle became a full bodied laugh. “No. Nothing like that.” She found her shirt and slipped it on. And her panties. Realizing he was falling behind, he rooted around in the blankets for his underwear. “Bella would kill me if I looked at him sideways. Besides, he’s always been like a brother to me.”
Devlin gritted his teeth. He knew guys like Holt Lamm.
Brother
was not in their vocabulary. Not when it came to women like Ponytail. But he didn’t want to fight about it. Didn’t want to fight about anything. So, grudgingly he yanked on his shirt. She picked up his jeans and he gently pried them from her grip. “Not this time, sweetheart,” he murmured as he tugged them on.
She smiled.
He loved her smile. Unable to resist, he pulled her into his arms. “I don’t want this to be over,” he said.
She stared at him. “This?”
“This thing.”
“This thing?”
Was he speaking English?
“Sweetheart…”
“We should get back.” She untangled herself from his hold and headed for the door. He followed, but he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. So when she opened the door, he reached over her shoulder and held it shut.
“When can I see you again?”
“Devlin.” She turned and gazed up at him with a confabulating expression in her eyes. He’d always been able to read a woman. This, he could not read. Or maybe he didn’t want to read it. Maybe he didn’t like what it said.
It kind of felt like:
It’s over
.
Fuck
.
He hoped not.
“Didn’t you enjoy this?” He sure as shit had. It was incomprehensible to imagine she had not. He glanced at the bed, remembering her growls, her moans, the wild response of her body when he’d buried himself deep inside her.
She tipped her head to the side. “Enjoy it? Of course I did.” She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
“Then when can I see you again?”
A shadow flickered over her features, one that made his gut curdle. “Devlin—” God he hated that tone. “I’m not…in the market for a relationship.”
He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not proposing marriage.”
“I know. But these things have a way of…evolving into something more.”
Something more sounded great. Something more sounded fan-fucking-tabulous. He wanted her…but having her on her terms would work for him. “What if we make a pact?”
Her brows knit. “What kind of pact?”
“No relationship.”
“Just…fuck buddies?”
Discomfort drizzled through him.
“If that’s that you want to call it. Sure.”
“No emotions? No crazy jealousy? No stalking?”
He forced a laugh. “What kinds of guys have you been dating?”
She blew out a breath. “You know what I mean. I have a busy life. I don’t have time for…drama.”
“Drama?” He glanced at the bed again. Had that been drama? Why did women have to be so damn inscrutable?
“You know. Jealousy. Possessiveness. Demands on my time.”
Her words rang through him with an eerie familiarity. He knew them well. He’d said them himself. Many times before. He’d been a player most of his adult life, dating girl after girl. Like a horny bee flittering from one flower to the next. He’d never liked drama in a relationship. Never liked when
she
got jealous or possessive or started checking his cell phone for messages. That was usually when he ended it.
It had never bothered him before—ending it.
But now he was faced with this. This woman, spouting the same idiotic philosophy.
And it was
…idiotic.
She wanted a fuck buddy. Someone who would show up for a booty call, give her what she wanted and then quietly leave.
Oddly enough, the prospect irritated the hell out of him.
Because suddenly, incomprehensibly, he wanted more.
And he wanted more with her.
And while he would do just about anything to be with her,
to his astonishment, he realized he didn’t think he could offer her that.
For some reason the thought of nothing but casual sex with this woman—whose name he did not know—sent a piercing shaft through his heart.