Fatal Exposure (26 page)

Rina felt dazed and weak.

He studied her face, his breathing uneven. “Two choices. Either tell me to leave or tell me where your bedroom is.”

She had trouble getting the words out.

“Upstairs. Last door on the right.”

He kept his eyes riveted to hers, something unidentifiable lurking in them. “I won’t hurt you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “I didn’t think you would.”

“All right, then.”

He lifted her, as if she were weightless, and took the stairs two at a time. Inside her bedroom, he set her feet carefully on the floor and drowned her in another of his kisses. With his mouth still fused to hers, he backed her up to the bed, sliding his hands under her T-shirt and cupping her breasts. Rina thought she might faint, his touch was so arousing. Her panties were soaked enough just from the kisses that she was afraid the evidence of her arousal would slide down her thighs. She was hardly aware of him lifting the T-shirt over her head, unclasping her bra, and tossing both to the side.

“Jesus.” His long fingers plucked at her nipples, chafing them, teasing them into diamond-hard points.

When he lowered his mouth to take one nipple between his lips, she nearly fell backwards. The wet heat of his mouth made her nipples throb. He moaned softly against her flesh, the sound reverberating through her body.

“I think we have too many clothes on.” His voice was heavy with desire. He made quick work of her shorts and thong, guiding her onto the bed before stripping off his own clothing. He reached down and snapped on the bedside lamp.

Rina’s eyes widened as she took in the lean, fit body with its matte of dark hair curling on his chest. It arrowed over a flat abdomen to his groin, forming a nest around the most impressive erection she’d ever seen in her life. The flat head of his cock was a deep purple and ropy veins pulsed beneath the skin. The sac of his testicles rested against his thighs, heavy and tempting.

He lay down beside her, pulling her into another hot kiss, one hand caressing her breasts, gliding over the slope of her flesh, rasping at her already swollen nipples. When he moved his mouth to bite gently on one of them, her insides convulsed.

One arm slid beneath her, arching her back to give him better access to her breasts while the other hand traced feathery patterns over her belly and down to her mound. When one finger parted her labia and stroked the already-slick flesh, she whimpered and lifted herself into his touch. He was like a tiger unleashed. Feral and hungry. He touched her everywhere and with a need so great it shocked her. His skin was hot, burning her, and her own hunger rose to meet his. With one last, brief thought for her lack of sanity, she fell into the maelstrom his touch created. Her pulse throbbed in her everywhere. A lightning storm couldn’t have generated more power. His mouth nibbled, sucked, his tongue licking a trail over her feverish skin from nipples to cunt. He was a master of torment. If she’d been able to think at all, she’d have wondered how this grim, silent man had become such an accomplished lover. Her nipples felt as if they were bathed in liquid heat, each nip of his teeth sending jolts directly to her womb. His fingers parted the lips of her sex, tracing a line from end to end as he focused on her breasts. When he slid two fingers into her waiting heat, the tips curled to search for her sweet spot. His thumb pressed on her bundled nerves, massaging with a steady stroke.

“God, you feel good,” he breathed. “You are so wet it feels like heaven. I’ll bet it tastes even better.”

Shifting, he knelt between her legs and, with his hands cupping her ass, lifted her to his mouth. The moment his lips closed on her, she spasmed, her inner walls fluttering. He held her in a firm grip as he teased and tormented her until she felt as if flames were licking at her. His tongue glided in and out, scraping over every inch of her wet channel. He was voracious, eating at her like a starving man. When her first orgasm rolled over her and she poured into his mouth, he lapped greedily at her juices. When the spasms slowed, he began again, lapping at her, stroking her with his tongue, driving her up the erotic spiral of hunger until she had no control of her own body. Again she convulsed, hips jerking in his grasp, the walls of her sex grabbing at his tongue as she shook uncontrollably. And still he worked her relentlessly. When the third orgasm overtook her, she shattered completely, every muscle in her body clenching, the flesh of her pussy quivering. Splinters of her consciousness tumbled through the air, and colors flashed behind her closed eyelids.

Finally, he lowered her hips to the bed. Exhausted, she lay back on the pillows. Surely now he would give her a moment to rest. But rest wasn’t in McCall’s vocabulary. Moving up, he straddled her so his swollen shaft bobbed at her lips.

“Take me,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “Let me feel your lips on me. Come on, Rina. Suck me with that hot, sweet mouth. Just thinking about it is driving me crazy.”

Automatically, she opened her mouth. Taking his shaft in one hand, he guided himself past her teeth until he was pressing on her tongue. She began to drag on him with her lips and swirl her tongue around the velvet flesh covering solid steel. Her fingers wrapped around him to give herself better leverage. His testicles pressed against her chin as she pulled and sucked, his taste a heady flavor.

“Stop.” Abruptly, he jerked away.

“What...”

“I’m so ready, and I don’t want to come in your mouth. Not this time.”

He shifted off her and, with practiced ease, flipped her over to her stomach, tugging her up to her knees. His fingers slipped into her, gathering her moisture and painting it on the tight ring of her rear opening.

She shivered. “McCall?”

“I don’t have a condom with me so we have to improvise. You’ll like this. I promise. Trust me, Rina.”

He began working first one, then two fingers into her rectum, preparing her, one hand on her belly, holding her up tight to him. She tensed at his first invasion, muscles clenching to shut him out.

“You’ve never done this, have you?”

She shook her head.

“Take a deep breath,” he told her and pressed the head of his cock against her puckered opening. At first it burned, his penis so big and thick it stretched her unbearably. But then, with a tiny pop, he was past the entrance and moving steadily to fill her. The burn turned from painful to delicious as hot and cold chased through her system, igniting nerves she didn’t even know she had, setting the pulse in her womb to throbbing with a deep, insistent beat. Whatever functioning brain cells she might have had left disappeared as he pushed her onto a plane of arousal beyond anything she’d ever felt before.

“Breathe,” he told her again.

Then he was all the way in, pumping his cock in a steady rhythm, the thick length rasping the sensitive skin inside the dark tunnel along the way. His balls slapped against the backs of her thighs, his arm like steel supported her, his hand spread across her belly to hold her to him tightly. She fisted her hands in a pillow and breathed through her mouth as he increased the pace of his strokes. Harder, faster, he filled and retreated, filled and retreated. Up and up the spiral she went again, every muscle quivering, every nerve firing.

His body tightened and clenched, his fingers pressed harder into her belly. When she felt the first splash of his cum, she climaxed, rockets exploding through her and hurtling her into space. The orgasm wracked her body, shaking her even more than the last one. McCall’s body pressed into hers as he rode out his own convulsions.

Exhausted and spent, sore everywhere, she simply collapsed. He lay atop her, still shuddering. Sweat slicked their skin, and their hearts beat like kettle drums. She would have easily fallen asleep that way, his cock still impaled in her ass, but he withdrew from her slowly and turned her over.

“Shower,” he murmured.

She shook her head, trying to burrow back into the pillows.

McCall made a sound suspiciously like a chuckle, then simply rose from the bed and gathered her up in his arms. In her shower, he bathed her as one might wash a baby, gently, his fingers probing all the right places, washing away the remnants of the most explosive sex she had ever experienced in her life. When he was satisfied they were both clean, he dried them off with her big towels, carried her back to the bed, and tucked her under the covers. She thought he bent and kissed her, but it could have been her imagination.

She slept dreamlessly and woke feeling pleasantly sore. Her hand stretched out, seeking human flesh, the memories of last night springing to life in her mind, but the space next to her in bed was empty.

McCall was gone.

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