Chapter 31 Taran
The pulse at my neck beat hard as I walked down the short corridor to Quinn’s room. My palms were a wee bit clammy and that insistent throb between my legs only intensified the closer I grew to him.
I stopped at his door and raised my hand to knock.
The door flew open before I could and Quinn faltered in his stride forward, his lips parting. “Taran.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Where were you going?”
A look I knew all too well darkened his countenance. “To find you.” His arm hooked around my waist, and he hauled me inside his hotel room. Quinn’s lips crashed down on mine as I heard the door slam shut.
His kiss was beyond hunger.
It was exactly what I’d imagined nineteen years of longing should feel like distilled down into a kiss.
I couldn’t catch my breath, and I didn’t care as I tangled my fingers in his hair, my senses overloaded with the feel of his beard on my skin, his tongue in my mouth, his groans in my ears, his hard body holding me tight.
Suddenly, I was falling, and as he bounced against me upon impact with the bed, that imaginary warning siren from earlier blared a wee bit too loudly.
I turned my head on the duvet-softened mattress, panting for breath on the call of his name.
Quinn’s breathing was ragged and he rested his forehead on my temple, his heat overwhelming as he caged my body with his own.
“I …” I turned my head again, forcing him to lift his, our eyes connecting. The need in his almost stopped me, but not quite. “If we do this, it doesn’t mean I want to be with you.”
His expression hardened abruptly. “Taran—”
“I want this.” I gestured between us. “But not … I’m not ready for anything more than this. If you’re not in agreement, we need to stop now.”
“I’m not in agreement.” Quinn huffed in disbelief. “I’ll never be in agreement with that.”
Disappointment cooled my blood. “Then you need to get off me.”
“No.” He bent his head to mine, our noses almost touching, his beard tickling my skin. “I promised you nothing but honesty from now on. Sex with you will never just be sex for me. But … I still want you even knowing that’s all you can give me.”
“I can’t do that to you. I can’t mess with your emotions like that.” I pushed against his shoulders, but Quinn wouldn’t budge.
“I give you permission to. I want you to be selfish with me, Taran.” He nudged his hard cock between my legs and I gasped, instinctively arching into it. Quinn’s features strained with desire. “Take what you want, and I promise not to hold it against you.”
My willpower was truly nonexistent. If I’d been in my right mind, I would have said no.
I wouldn’t have put either of us in that position.
But all I could think about was the kiss I’d just experienced—the best kiss of my whole goddamn life—and how every nerve ending buzzed with awareness and excitement.
I felt alive.
Truly, truly alive.
It was beyond anything I’d felt in such a long time, and I didn’t want it to be over quite yet.
My answer was to bridge the tiny distance between our mouths and kiss him.
Quinn groaned as he melted into me and the sound strummed at the throb between my legs. Then just as abruptly, he pushed off me and the bed, pulling me up with him. Stunned by the sudden change from lying down to standing, I swayed on my feet and Quinn steadied me.
“I’m desperate to have you,” he murmured hotly against my lips, “but I want to savor every second.”
At the searching look in his eyes, I nodded.
My breath hitched at the tickle of his fingertips on my stomach. His palms caught the fabric of my thin jumper and he slid it upward, his calloused skin sliding deliciously across my belly and up to my chest.
Goose bumps prickled my skin, my breasts felt tight in my bra, as I lifted my arms above my head. Quinn’s chest brushed mine as he tugged the top over my head. He discarded it behind us, his attention dropping to my breasts.
I shivered as he easily unclasped my bra and peeled the straps down my arms.
So certain was I in Quinn’s desire for me, I didn’t even feel strange that the last time he saw me naked was when I was a perky eighteen-year-old. I’d always known Quinn wanted me when we were young, but he’d never looked at me then the way he looked at me now.
Like he was in utter awe of what he had in his arms.
It brought tears to my eyes even as my own arousal heightened.
My nipples peaked in the air and after dropping the fabric, Quinn reached for my waist, squeezing me, before skimming his palms over my ribs.
Anticipation buzzed along my body and I arched my back, readying for his touch.
My breasts felt heavy, needful, wanting of his hands and his mouth.
Instead, Quinn chose to torture me, his palms skating down my stomach, his touch tightening that coiling tension deep inside me.
His fingers rested on the waistband of my jeans as our eyes held. Slowly, Quinn unbuttoned and unzipped me, then tugged the denim down over my hips. As he lowered to his haunches to guide them off my legs, I placed my hands on his broad shoulders, steadying myself as I grew dizzier with need.
Quinn tugged off my boots—I lifted one foot and then the other for that and then again to help him ease the denim off.
He rested on one knee, his gaze traveling up my legs as his hands curled around my calves.
His breath stuttered when his attention halted on the bright pink bikini briefs I wore.
There was nothing overtly sexual about them, but when his eyes flew back to mine, I almost fell over at the hunger in them.
A rush of wet dampened my underwear and as if he sensed it, Quinn’s focus returned there. Tingles shivered over me as his hands coasted up my legs, tickling the back of my knees before smoothing across the front of my thighs until his fingertips glided into my inner leg.
“Spread for me.” His voice was guttural.
Another pulsing tug of arousal made me even wetter.
Part of me despaired at how turned on I was.
No one did this to me but him.
Only ever him.
I widened my legs.
Quinn’s fingers slid higher and he rolled his thumb over the fabric of my underwear, his expression tightening. “Soaked.” He let out a shuddering breath as he eased his fingers beneath the fabric and pushed inside me.
I gasped, my body bowing into the touch.
“Still so hot, so tight,” he whispered hoarsely. “So perfect.”
“Quinn,” I pleaded as he pumped into me in slow, languid strokes. “More.”
“Patience.” He grinned wickedly. “I told you I want to savor you.”
Gently he removed his fingers and then tugged down my underwear. My legs shook as I stepped out of them and Quinn pressed a hand to my stomach. “Sit down, lie back, and spread for me.”
Yes, yes, and yes.
I stumbled onto the edge of the bed but didn’t lie back. “I want to watch,” I whispered, widening my thighs slowly.
The muscle in Quinn’s cheek flexed as though he had to check his control. Finally, he nodded and reached for me, pulling my legs over his shoulders and my bottom up off the bed. I cried out, reaching for purchase to steady myself and realizing quickly Quinn had me. He wouldn’t let me fall.
As his head bent between my thighs, I slid my fingers through his hair and steadied myself with my other hand on his shoulder.
His beard tickled the sensitive skin there seconds before I felt his tongue push at my entrance.
“Oh!” I arched, my head falling back in instinct, but I righted myself because I wanted to watch. I wanted to know it was Quinn with his mouth on me.
His blue eyes flashed with triumph in the dim light as he nuzzled deeper into me and licked me from entrance to clit.
I made a guttural sound of want, curling my fingers into the soft strands of his hair as he tormented me.
I tried to move against his mouth, but his fingers dug into my thighs, holding me in place.
He suckled me, pulling hard, and I panted as the preclimactic tension built.
His tongue circled my clit and then slid down in a devouring, ravenous lick before pushing inside me.
“Quinn!” I undulated into him, my fingers tightening in his hair, tugging, making him grunt with approval and fuck me harder with his tongue. “Don’t stop!” I attempted to thrust against his mouth, climbing higher toward my orgasm.
“Look at me,” Quinn demanded and so I did.
I would have done anything for him in that moment.
Holding my gaze, he returned to the bundle of nerves at my apex and gently pushed two fingers inside me. He watched me as I gasped and panted and moaned his name, and he sucked until I shattered into a million fiery pieces.
Light filled my vision as the release quaked through me in powerful shudders. I could feel his groans between licks as he lapped up my climax.
Even as the pleasure of it zinged through my blood, I still felt this tight need in my gut, like there were a hundred more orgasms trapped inside me. My hands reached for Quinn as he lifted me to place me firmly in the middle of the bed.
He braced himself, his cheeks flushed, eyes bright, his arms shaking a little as his eyes caressed my face like a starving man. That savage need made me throb harder. “Come inside me,” I pleaded, smoothing my hand over his chest. “Quinn.”
He gave a dazed shake of his head. “I’m not done savoring you.”
As he came down over me to kiss me, his jeans rubbed roughly against my bare skin, the fabric of his shirt fluttering against my stomach in a way that was strangely erotic.
As was the taste of myself on his tongue.
The tickle of his beard on my face. And yet, he cupped my cheek in his hand with such tenderness, it scored an ache across my chest.
I wanted to rip off his clothes and ride his cock hard and at the same time I wanted to revel in him too, to anticipate what he planned to do to me next.