Pleasure's Edge (26 page)

Opening her mouth, she took him in, al at once, until his swol en flesh choked her, making tears rise in her eyes. But she wanted it, needed it, for some reason. She slid her mouth back, resting at the head of his cock, let her tongue slide around it, again and again.

Alec was writhing, his hips arching. When she glanced up, she saw that his head was thrown back, his hands braced against the wal s of the shower on either side of him. His face was a study in ecstasy. Masculine. Sensual. Beautiful.

She swal owed him deeper, focusing on opening her throat, letting his cock slide al the way down. He began to pump into her mouth, and her fingers dug into his thighs, her nails biting deep, making him moan.

“Christ, Dylan. Dylan . . . ”

His cock pulsed, hard and fast, and her mouth was flooded with scorching, liquid heat. He kept thrusting, his movements slowing.

Final y, he brushed her wet hair from her face, helping her up. She leaned her head into the rain shower, letting the water wash away his seed.

“Dylan . . . that was incredible. You’re incredible.” His hands were in her hair, gripping the wet strands, hanging on to her. She leaned into him, resting her head on his chest, heard the low and steady drumbeat of his heart.

He bent to kiss her face, long, slow, sweet kisses raining over her cheeks, her chin, her forehead, her eyelids. Kisses that left her shivering. Not with desire. But something more. What was it?

Don’t think. Just stop. Just be.

But she knew. She felt the shiver in her bel y, in her chest, in her racing pulse. It wasn’t about the sex, although that was incredible, as Alec had said. It meant more. It was something deeper.

Something she had promised herself she would not think about.

She held on to him, her hands gripping his wide shoulders. He was so solid. She needed to focus on that, the sense of safety she felt in his arms. But it al seemed to circle back to the same thing: something else was happening here besides the sex and the opening up. And she didn’t know how much longer she could pretend she wasn’t fal ing for Alec. Fal ing hard.

She squeezed her eyelids, closing them tight, and bit her lip against a wave of dizziness. She’d never felt so out of control in her life, not even when Alec had her bound and physical y helpless.

That was nothing compared to this.

She was fal ing, despite every effort not to do exactly that. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. And when she hit the ground, it was going to be one hel of a mess.

fourteen

She’d been very good at not thinking for three weeks. After the night with Alec in the shower, she had made a new deal with herself: since she was helpless over how she felt, she would just accept it. It didn’t have to change anything. The feelings were simply
there
. She could choose what she would do about it—or not.

There had been other nights in the shower. And days. It had become one of their favorite places to have sex. And she loved the sharpness of the spankings on her wet flesh, the sound echoing off the hard tiled wal s of the shower, either hers or his.

Alec had made himself at home at her place, leaving a toothbrush there, an extra shirt. Not that it was a sign of anything. It was simply convenient. Her place was so much closer to the Pleasure Dome than his; it was right down the street. And his laptop sitting in one corner of her dining area was another convenience, nothing more.

Anyway, she liked it when they wrote together in the afternoons, with Alec at her glass dining table, her sitting at her desk in the office area of her flat a few yards away. It was companionable.

And if one of them needed to brainstorm a plot point, the other was right there. Of course, that often led to more sex. But since she was an erotica author she looked at it as inspiration. Her book was beginning to gel, the plot and the character dynamics al coming together, thanks in large part to Alec. It was always a good sign when her writing went wel .

Mischa had cal ed again, asked how things were going. Dylan hadn’t mentioned most of these things to her. She wasn’t sure why.

Maybe she simply wanted to keep what was happening just for the two of them. Private. Or maybe she was afraid that talking about it would make it too real, would shatter her ability to deny what it might mean for them. For her. And she was better off if she let those thoughts get no closer than the edge of her consciousness. It was a weird sort of half-denial, but it made everything manageable. It kept that smal bit of distance she required in order to maintain a sense of balance. Of control.

She hadn’t left any of her own things at his place, no matter how much time she spent there.

This was one of the odd days when she was home alone for a while, sitting at the dining table, sipping a cup of her favorite jasmine and green tea, a plate of buttered toast at her elbow.

She was staring out the windows, as she so often did. The sun was trying to muscle its way through the Seattle morning fog, the light a sort of misty gold, making warm spots on the sleek wood floors, making them shine with a warm, golden glow. It reminded her of lying in bed the other morning with Alec, another sunny day, like today. The sun had caught the soft hairs on his forearm as he slept, tipping them in gold and amber. She’d reached out and touched his arm with her fingertips. And he’d woken up, smiling at her, his eyes that utterly impossible blue that seemed to look right through her.
Inside
her.

It had stil been half dark when Alec kissed her good-bye an hour ago, leaving to go meet his friend Dante for a hike somewhere. They were to meet Dante later that evening for dinner.

She wrapped her hands around her cup of tea, lifted it and sipped the hot liquid.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about meeting his friends. It seemed to be the natural course, she supposed. But the natural course for a relationship. And that was not what was going on here. Or was it?

Did this signal his desire for things to get more serious? He was as anti-relationship as she was. That was what kept her safe. No matter how close she felt to him.

They’d grown closer. They’d told each other nearly every deep, dark secret. Certainly every sexual fantasy. He’d even spanked her while wearing his leather jacket a few times after she’d confided in him how much it turned her on: the scent of the leather, the
badness
of it. Nothing she talked about sexual y shocked him.

It was freeing. Exhilarating. She’d never met anyone like him. He was so open-minded. Intel igent, whether they were discussing sex or anything else.

She loved that they could talk about art and literature, something that had always been lacking in the men she’d dated. She suspected Alec was smarter than she was, but that was a good thing. It made her respect him more. She realized there was a bit of snobbery in her feeling that way, but she couldn’t help it. And she felt a man deserved for the woman he was with, even if it was casual dating—or casual sex—to respect him.

Alec was kind, as wel . Everywhere they went, people loved him immediately. It was only her own stubbornness, she could see now, that had made her so combative with him when they’d first met. He charmed everyone: waiters, bookstore clerks. And the charm wasn’t simply some shal ow façade, as it was with too many other men.

She realized she hadn’t thought about another man, looked at another man, since she’d met Alec just over five weeks earlier. It seemed as though she’d known him for ages. Forever.

Forever . . . with him . . .

Her pulse fluttered, she smiled to herself. Then panic gripped her, and it was like being punched in the stomach.

What was she thinking?

There would be no forever. Not with Alec. Not with any man. Not for her.

Her cel phone jangled, and she pul ed it across the table to read the cal er I.D.

Alec.

Just breathe.

The panic downshifted, and her pulse flooded with familiar heat, simply seeing his name on the smal screen.

She picked it up.

“Hi.”

“Dylan. Hi.”

His voice made her smile, that soft, deep whiskey and honey tone. The panic eased a little more.

“Alec. Are you done hiking already?”

“We haven’t left yet. Dante had an emergency at his office, so I have a little time. Actual y, I’m downstairs.”

“What?”

“Are you going to let me in?”

She laughed. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“Good girl.”

She shivered as she went to press the door buzzer, her heart tumbling in her chest, her sex heating, knowing he was coming.

She opened the front door and waited for the elevator. It arrived, the doors swung aside, and there was Alec. He looked sleek and every inch the bad boy in his jeans and black T-shirt, carrying a dark leather jacket over his shoulder. He grinned when he saw her.

“You’re not dressed,” he growled, appreciation lighting his eyes.

“You hardly gave me time. You left an hour ago.” He dropped his jacket on the floor and slammed the door behind him. “I like to keep you on your toes. And on your back.

Your knees.”

A few strides and he was on her, backing her into the apartment, his jacket dropping onto the floor.

His hands were al over her in seconds, untying her robe and letting it fal to the floor, tweaking her nipples, making them hard, pleasure shimmering over her skin. Then he bent to kiss her, his mouth hard and bruising, his tongue wet and sweet. He tasted of mint. He tasted of Alec.

She moaned as he walked her backward, into the dining area, then lifted her and sat her on the big glass table. It was cold on her bottom, the backs of her thighs.

He pul ed his mouth from hers.

“These are pretty, but let’s get rid of them for now.” He slid her panties off, one leg at a time, pausing to lay hot kisses on her knees, the tops of her thighs, making her tremble.

Then he slipped his fingers right into her soaking wet slit.

“Oh, God, Alec. Just . . . give me a moment to think.”

“There’s nothing to think about. Christ, you feel good, baby.” He kept his eyes on hers as he raised his wet fingers to his lips, licked them. She shivered, desire shafting into her body.

“Alec ...”

“What do you want, my girl?”

“You know what I want.”

“Tel me.”

“I want your mouth on me.”

He smiled and pushed her back farther onto the table, laying her down. The cold glass against her back was a sensual counterbalance to the heat of her sex. Her body was growing hotter by the second. Alec pushed her thighs wider with his hands, and when he bent his head and tasted her, she gasped.

“Oh, yes ...”

He dove in then, going to work with his tongue, his lips, his fingers. He licked her hard clitoris, sucked on it, harder and harder. With his fingers he massaged the lips of her sex, then dove inside, curving them to reach her G-spot.

“God, Alec. I’m going to come!”

He kept at it, pleasure like heat lightning in her body, the wal s of her sex beginning to clench. And his silken head between her thighs, his dark, curling hair brushing against the skin there, adding to the sensations.

He sucked harder on her clit, pressed his fingers deeper. Lights flashed behind her closed eyes. Her body arched off the table, heat searing her, shivering through her in wave after wave.

She had barely quieted, her sex stil clenching, when he unzipped his slacks, pul ing a condom from his pocket and sheathing his erect cock. Her legs went around his waist and he raised her arms over her head, holding her wrists together in his big hand before he slipped inside her, just the swol en tip of his cock resting inside her entrance. Lovely. Excruciating.

“You’re so wet, baby. So wet for me. I just need to fuck you. Just

. . . fuck you, my girl.”

His hips pistoned, his cock driving deep al at once, and she cried out. It was al pure animal fury then, their bodies joined in heat and need and urgency as he began to pump. And it was as though she were stil coming in smal flurries of sensation, her sex clenching at his rigid cock moving inside her.

He moved faster, deeper. Harder, his hips slamming into hers, the hard table beneath her bruising her spine. She didn’t care. She loved it al : the pleasure, her wrists held tight in his, the sense of being taken over.

“Come on, Alec. Please.”

“I’m coming . . . baby . . . ”

His face torn in ecstasy, he came, shuddering, driving into her.

Groaning, he thrust again, and again.