Dan was reminded of a quote from Eminem. Times are hard and they’re getting even harder. Only in this case, he was hard and getting even harder. Pulling out of Penni’s snug body had been pure agony, but the pain was worth it to see her now, down on her knees beside the bed, lovingly removing the condom and tossing it into the trash can in front of his night table.
A flush had turned her pale skin a delightful pink. Everywhere. Her lashes were thick and sooty, hiding her eyes from him as she gripped the base of his shaft. And her nipples stood out in hard points, little punctuation marks advertising her continued excitement. It was enough to make a doubting man believe in God. Who else could have created such a heavenly creature?
“Brooklyn,” he husked the nickname he’d given her months ago.
“How do you like to be sucked?” she asked him, her dark eyes lifting to his face. “Tell me.”
Sweet Jesus! He’d taught her the game too well. She’d outpaced him, becoming the tease, the temptress. The sorceress. He was completely under her spell. Completely entranced by her. By every tiny thing about her.
“S-softly,” he admitted, his voice deep and cracking with need. “Just the tip.”
“Like this?” she asked, angling him down and leaning forward. She formed a little ring with her wet, swollen lips, and sucked him softly, slowly inside the hot haven of her mouth.
“Yes,” he whispered, his eyes crossing at the pleasure that bordered on pain. His bare toes curled into the boards of the floor. His hips nudged forward of their own accord. It was good. It was too damned good. “Now…” He had to pause and swallow. His throat made a dry, sticky sound. “L-lick my—”
He didn’t even need to finish. She plied the slightly rough flat of her tongue over his head, flicking softly at the little slit, coaxing a drop from him. She hummed when she tasted his desire. And the vibration of the sound traveled up his shaft like a bolt of lightning that eventually struck the base of his spine. He cried out, fisting her hair in his hand.
His hips flexed forward again, sliding his shaft deeper, just a little deeper into the wonder of her mouth. He wanted to thrust unabashedly, over and over. But he was a gentleman first and foremost, so he forced himself to breathe past the urge, to satisfy himself with small strokes that had the flared ring of his head rasping against the pursed ring of her lips. And, little by little, he got himself back under control. Or at least some semblance of control.
He softened his hold on her hair, forcing his fingers to release their death grip and said hoarsely, “Now suck on me in long, hard pulls, and fist me in your hand at the same time.”
“Mmm,” she hummed her pleasure and agreement with his plan. This time he was ready for the vibrations that made his hips arch. She eagerly did as he instructed. And, just like Goldilocks, she did it just right. The wet pull of her mouth was perfection. The hard grip of her hand unerring.
“Brooklyn…” Her name was both praise and a curse. “Look at me.”
He didn’t know why he wanted to see her eyes, but he suspected it had something to do with needing that connection. Needing her to know that it was him she was giving pleasure to, taking pleasure from. Needing to remind himself that it was her—lovely, sexy Penelope Ann DePaul—who was blowing his mind, his whole fucking world apart.
Her long lashes fanned across her blushing cheeks, creating little crescent shadows in the light streaming in from the leaded-glass window. Then she glanced up at him and he saw that the brown pools of her irises were flashing with desire. She was a temptress. A sorceress. An enchantress. And when she sucked, her cheeks hollowing out, her plush, pink lips stretched tight around his thick, veined shaft, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he never wanted to break free of her magic. Never wanted to escape her sweet, witchy woman’s spells. Not for a million and one years.
When her head began to bob, her eyes remaining on his face to gauge his reaction, it hit him… Their connection wasn’t just physical. It wasn’t just…this. It was more. It was everything. And even though it scared him to death to contemplate taking the plunge again—loving meant the possibility of losing, and losing had nearly cost him everything—he just couldn’t stop himself.
He cried out her name when she pulled his body over the edge with her talented mouth. But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t just a physical release. Because he felt his heart go too. Felt it take the leap out of solitude and loneliness, out of darkness and despair, and straight into that terrifying abyss that was…love.
Chapter Twenty
Dell’s Bakery and Bagel Shop
Saturday, 3:34 p.m.
George had a plan…