Penni DePaul. Sexy, sultry, sinfully seductive Penni DePaul…
She was back in his arms. Back beneath him. Where he’d dreamed of having her for more than three months. And she was the sweetest thing. Lithe and lean and sinfully soft. Dan skated his hand up her smooth belly to gently cup her breast. The high, tight mound seemed to scream, “Touch me! Touch me!” and you can bet that’s exactly what he did. Gently squeezing. Softly molding.
With a quiet moan she caught his tongue between her teeth. Sucking. He imagined how good it would feel to slide the swollen head of his cock between her lush lips, letting her suck on it with the same force. The thought alone was almost enough to have him spilling in his boxers. But he wasn’t a fifteen-year-old copping his first feel. And besides, before he found his own release there was Penni. Penni, Penni, wonderful, wickedly wanton Penni to attend to.
He pulled back to glance into her luminous eyes because…well, just because he wanted to see her, to see that look on her face. And there it was. “When you look at me like that…” He didn’t go on. He couldn’t. He didn’t have the words for the way she made him feel.
“What look?” she mouthed, rubbing herself against him.
His eyes crossed and the top of his scalp felt like it was trying to pull away from his skull—the pleasure was that good, that ferocious—but he still managed to whisper, “Like I’m your favorite toy.”
She tugged his head down and said softly in his ear, “You are my favorite toy.”
“You’re gonna kill me, woman,” he husked, thrusting his hips and watching her eyes close. Her lips curved into a smile and she grabbed his ass, encouraging him on. Meeting him stroke for stroke.
She bedeviled him, beguiled him, teased and tormented him until he thought he’d go mad. He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath. More than he’d ever jonesed for a whiskey, neat, ice on the side. And that pretty much said it all. “And you’re loving it, aren’t you?” He bent to whisper against the delicate shell of her ear. “You’re loving making me crazy.”
She didn’t answer. Just nodded. Her soft hair tickled the side of his face. Her breast was warm and firm beneath his palm.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that paybacks are hell?” he asked softly, finding her beaded nipple through the lace of her bra and pinching delicately.
She drew in a sharp breath, then whispered huskily in his ear, “Well, shit. And here I was banking on them being heaven.”
And that did it. He was done messing around. He’d had a fantasy since Malaysia. The fantasy of seeing her come apart in his arms, seeing her come. Every. Which. Way. And now he was determined to fulfill it. He told her as much. “I’ve dreamed of making you come this way, from the friction of our clothed bodies.”
“Dan…” His name was a wisp of sound. An incantation that anchored him in the here, the now, the moment. This wonderful, pleasure-filled moment.
“I’ve dreamed of taking you with my fingers,” he admitted, pulling back to see her lovely neck arched. Her pulse fluttered strongly at the base of her throat. He pressed his lips to it, feeling her heart racing, knowing he was the cause of its mad tempo. Being wanted, feeling wanted, went all through him. It was a thrill, a joy he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
“I’ve dreamed of rubbing that secret spot inside you and making you come so hard you squeeze my knuckles until the bones grind together,” he whispered. He loved the harsh sound of her quickly indrawn breath and the little moan of longing and titillation that followed. Both were just loud enough to be caught by the speakers, mixing and mingling with the music still coming from the room next door.
Some women didn’t like it when a man talked dirty. They were embarrassed by having their wants and needs and desires put into words—which Dan always thought was a crying shame considering that the mind was the biggest sex organ, and stimulating it in every way possible was never a bad thing. But to his utter satisfaction, Penni did not appear to be one of those women. With each brazen word out of his mouth, her hands grew more frenzied, her arching thrusts more desperate.
Emboldened, getting hotter, hornier—which he wouldn’t have thought possible—he continued. “I’ve dreamed of putting my mouth on you.”
“Sweet Christ.”
“Of licking and laving you and tasting your release.”
“Yes,” she hissed in his ear before he claimed her lips in a kiss that was as carnal, as wanton, as his words. When she started to tremble, he broke the suction of their lips and spoke the coup de grace. “And I’ve dreamed of putting my cock in you. Thrusting over and over until—”
“Dan, please,” she begged.