Tanner's Scheme (10 page)

Breeds were thought to have no body hair. Few people knew the truth: that the hairs on their bodies were so tiny, the color so perfectly matched to their flesh, that it was like a thin pelt. And at the moment, she could feel every tiny hair her nipples were raking as her breasts heaved beneath him.

The sensation was exquisite. Fiery. So heated she could feel herself melting against him, losing strength, losing control.

“God, you’re warm,” he murmured, lowering his head until his lips were close to her ear, his abused face next to her lips. “Now kiss me better, pretty girl, so we can go to sleep.”

Helplessly, hopelessly she turned her head, her lips touching the small spot of blood she had drawn at the side of his mouth.

His body tightened violently; his breathing became harder, heavier, as his jaw clenched. A violent groan tore from his lips as she licked at the cut at the corner of his lips, the salty taste of his flesh mingling with the coppery flavor of his blood.

And it should not have been erotic. It shouldn’t have gotten her so wet she could feel her juices gathering all along her pussy, thick and hot and making her crazy with the need to be touched.

“Enough.” He was gone as fast as, if not faster than he had grabbed her.

Hard-on bobbing out from his body, his expression set and furious once again.

Scheme sat up as he threw himself back into the bed and jerked the blankets over his body. She wondered if he had any idea how close he’d come to making her beg that time.

“Has anyone ever mentioned that you’re not exactly stable?” she finally asked.

“Yeah, every time they caught me and Cabal double-teaming one of our lovelies,” he snarled. “Now fucking go to sleep before you find out exactly what one-half of the last two surviving Bengal Breeds can do.”

Her breath caught. Her eyes widened, and she turned slowly as he picked up a remote, pressed it, and the sound of a television droned behind her.

“Double-teamed?”

“Double-fucked,” he clarified.

She blinked. He smiled. And it wasn’t a comforting sight.

“Night, night, pretty girl.”

———

She couldn’t sleep. The television had flipped off more than an hour before, the lights were dim, but sleep had never been further away.

She ached. Every time she closed her eyes, she swore she felt Tanner’s fingers sliding between her thighs, the heavy weight of them inside her, stroking her, burning through her common sense. And her eyes would jerk open to stare miserably into the cavern once again.

Despite the width of the bed—it was a king-sized bed, after all—she could still feel Tanner’s heat. It blazed against her back, wrapped around her and made the quilt he’d tossed over her stifling.

She was dying. She needed to be fucked worse than she had ever needed to be fucked in her life.

God, she was so pathetic. She had already had one close call with one of her father’s assassins and now she was looking to form an emotional bond with another? And she knew it would end up being emotional. She wasn’t stupid. Tanner touched not just her body but something inside her. Some part of her that she hadn’t known existed.

And she wanted it touched again. How stupid was that? Chaz had been her father’s killer; could Tanner be his spy?

“You know…” She flinched at the silky rumble of his voice. “There’s always the vibrator.”

Scheme flipped around, clutching the quilt to her breasts as she stared back at him.

“And do what?”

His hand lifted, the long fingers wrapped around the thick length of the blue vibrating toy.

“I loved watching you use this,” he murmured with a wicked smile. “Want to try it now?”

Her lips parted.

“I could help you.”

The suggestiveness in his voice had heat pulsing through her.

“How?” Oh Lord, was that really her voice? That breathless phone-sex murmur that had his eyes nearly glowing with lust.

He grinned, a shiverlicious kind of grin that made a woman want to just eat his lips up. Not to mention other parts of his body.

The quilt moved slowly away from her, revealing her an inch at a time as she watched the blue dildo come closer.

“Do you know what really turned me on?” he asked her.

“What?” It wasn’t a question, it was a whimper of hunger and she knew it.

“Watching your tongue curl over it after you came, tasting yourself.”

She was shaking. Her hands, her lips—her entire body was shaking. God, she had never been so excited in her life as she was watching him press that dildo closer until it touched her mouth.

Her tongue peeked out, licking over the fake head as his gaze locked with hers.

“I can smell how hot you are.” He moved closer, his other hand flattening on her stomach before sliding slowly upward and tucking between her breasts.

“All those years I watched you in your bed, alone and with your lovers, you want to know what I saw?”

She shook her head. She didn’t want to know.

“You were never satisfied. You wanted to be. You tried to be.”

“Not true.” She was not abnormal. She had always climaxed.

“Very true.” He pressed the dildo to her lips, his eyes narrowing as they parted, accepting the toy. “I saw your eyes. That’s what I watched, Scheme, when you were with those men, your eyes. And I saw a woman desperate to find that final certain something. That orgasm that went all the way to the gut.”

Her eyes widened.

The dildo slipped free of her lips, only to draw a wicked, damp path down her chin, between her breasts, then along her stomach.

“On your back,” he whispered. “Let me give you a taste.”

Common sense screamed no. Yet she was turning, moving to her back, fighting to breathe as carnal, wicked lust filled the room with its heavy scent.

“There we go, pretty girl,” he purred, stroking the dildo on her thighs. “Now open up just a little bit for me.”

Her thighs parted.

“Little bit more, darlin’.”

They were both breathing hard now, their gasping breaths filling the air around them.

She spread her legs further.

“Mmm. Those pretty curls are beaded with the sweetest juice.” His eyes locked between her thighs; his hand trailed the dildo over the saturated area.

It skimmed her clit as she lifted closer, watching his expression. It was tight, savage, bordering on animal lust as the head of the dildo tucked between the swollen folds of her pussy.

“Bend your knees. I want to watch it go in.”

She bent her knees, lifting closer as Tanner slid between them. She hadn’t expected that, but she really didn’t care as long as the horrible, aching hunger in her womb went away.

His nostrils flared as he drew the scent of her in.

Tucking the dildo against the desperate entrance to her sex, he pressed slowly inside.

“Oh God. Tanner.” She shook her head, her eyes wide, locked on the sight of the erotic toy pressing inside her.

She was so wet it didn’t take the usual three tries to get it in.

“Damn, you’re tight.” He pulled it back, ignoring her little cry before pressing forward again. “I’m thicker.” He grinned up at her with carnal intent. “Longer.” The dildo pressed deeper inside her. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Hell no. Not if she had a choice.

She shook her head frantically.

Pausing, he stared back at her. “What do you want, pretty girl?”

“I want you to stop playing.” Okay, this was the point of no return. “Fuck me or get the hell away from me.”

The dildo slid free before being tossed away, in which direction she didn’t really care.

“All you had to do—”

She didn’t let him finish the sentence. He was on his knees, the lickable length of his cock spearing out before him, flushed, sun-kissed gold, heavily veined and mouthwateringly engorged.

She had reached the end of her patience. She wanted a taste.

“Scheme.” There was that growly thing again. He had to know it just made her wetter. But that was okay; she intended to make him harder. If possible. She doubted it was possible, but she was sure as hell going to try.

She went to her knees, spreading her legs and bracing against the mattress as she leaned forward and enveloped the head of his cock in her mouth.

His taste exploded on her tongue. Rich, male, earthy. Like a storm. Like a mountain lake on a summer night. He tasted like pure male ecstasy.

“Fuck. Damn.” His hands clenched in her hair. “Hot little mouth. Sweet, hot little mouth.”

She tightened her lips on him, sucking greedily. One hand gripped his cock just below her lips, not that her fingers could surround him, but she could stroke, while her opposite palm cradled the hard sac below.

“Beautiful. So damned pretty,” he groaned, his hips rotating, moving, thrusting against her lips in tight, hard strokes.

She expected to weaken him. Get a guy’s cock in your mouth and that was what usually happened to him. But not Tanner. A second later she felt a stinging, highly erotic slap on the cheek of her ass. A second later, the opposite cheek.

Her mouth was filled with the bulging head of his cock, her excited little squeal coming out as a strangled scream as he struck again.

She might like that a little too much, her common sense warned her.

She wanted more, the hormonal inner slut screamed out. Oh yeah, way more.

His hand landed again, right there on the rounded part of her cheek where the flesh was so sensitive, where the sensations could streak through her nerve endings, attacking not just her clit, but the tender, nerve-laden entrance to her rear.

She lifted to him, feeling deliciously wicked, sexy.

“You like that, don’t you, my little Schemer?”

Like? Like? That was supposed to describe this?

She screamed around his cock as his hand landed again. Then she rewarded him. She sucked him to the back of her throat, swallowed, massaged her tongue on the underside of his shaft and moaned at the erotic pleasure of it.

“Damn you.” His voice was strangled.

Tightening further, the muscles of his abdomen and thighs were corded now, standing out in taut relief, rippling powerfully beneath his golden flesh.

His hand smoothed down her rear then tucked lower and two broad fingers pressed inside her.

Oh yeah, oh yeah,
she chanted silently.
Deeper. Just deeper. Just all the way to the interesting little spot…

Her eyes widened, her lips and tongue drawing on his cock desperately as Tanner’s fingers found that spot and he
rubbed.

The other hand tangled in her hair, pulled as she resisted, and sent flames whipping over her.

More. Just more. She was dying now.

She worked her mouth over the head of his cock greedily as his fingers retreated from her aching pussy, smoothed back, returned to the dripping opening, teased, pulled back. It took a second to understand. Just a second before one of those strong, long fingers pressed into the ultrasensitive entrance of her ass.

She tore her mouth away from his erection. She had to breathe. She had to.

“I want that pretty ass,” he whispered. “I want to cover you and sink inside it. I’ll remember the hollow look of dissatisfaction when I saw you taking it from another man, for all of two seconds—until I hear you scream for more. I’m going to show you what you should have received the first time.”

His finger retreated. Panting, desperate for air, Scheme pressed her head into his thigh, whimpering, insensible as his finger pressed deeper inside her.

“Mmm, you like that.” It wasn’t a question.

Hell yes, she liked it. It was wicked. Forbidden.

This was sex the way she had always fantasized about. Lacking self-recrimination, no doubts, no fears beyond the one that he would stop.

He bent over her. The sound of the bedside drawer opening barely pierced her consciousness or intruded on the sensations ripping up her back. His finger wasn’t still. It didn’t thrust or raid, it rubbed, the calloused pad rasping over tissue so delicate that she shuddered with the pleasure.

Nothing mattered—spies, blood, death—fuck it. Nothing mattered now except this. Here. Now. Just this.

CHAPTER 8

The way beneath his little Schemer’s defenses was her pleasure. He sensed it, knew it. The years he had spent watching her, he had felt it to the soles of his feet. She needed mindless pleasure, the kind that gets in your gut and turns you inside out because it’s too damned good to be borne. The kind that makes you weak in the knees, makes your mind shut down and your nerve endings sing. And he was going to give it to her.

She had known pleasure. She had known release. But she hadn’t known the gut-wrenching, soul-searing fulfillment that came from having her needs sated, fulfilled. He intended to sate every hunger she had ever known. He intended to show her hungers she had never known she could possess.

It wasn’t about the act, or acts, she had participated in. She had pushed her own boundaries, had explored her sensuality, only to find that the tease was more exciting, the promise much more tempting than the actual act.

Until now.

Now he would show her exactly what she had been missing. A man who understood her hungers, her needs and her pleasures. A man willing to lose himself in them with her.

It wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about submission. It was about feeling, from the inside out, feeling the radiance of complete satisfaction.

Sliding the tube of lubricating jelly from the bedside drawer, he straightened on his knees once more and slid his finger from the ultra tight clasp her rear had on it.

“No. Don’t stop.” Her hips lifted to him.

Damn that was a tempting ass. So softly rounded. So damned pretty when it blushed.

His hand descended, laying a sharp little caress to her rear as she shuddered in response. She liked that. Liked the biting pleasure/pain, the sharper sensations as her arousal grew.

She lifted to him again. Her shoulders coming off the bed, struggling to support her weight as she fought to regain a measure of control.

“Stay there.” He pressed her back to the mattress. She didn’t need control right now. She needed release. She needed him.