Chapter 20 Fine Line
Fine Line
“Ineed that too,” he muttered. Dipping his head, he trailed his lips along the line of my jaw to my throat.
A shiver worked its way through me.
My hips bucked of their own volition, rubbing my center against him.
“Oh God!”
He chuckled against my throat. “Fuck but we’re going to have so much fun, baby.”
I tipped my chin up, wanting more.
“That’s it, little one. Ask for what you want,” he murmured as he worked his way down my throat.
When he licked across my collarbone, every single one of my nerve endings stood up and cheered.
What was happening to me?
My hands fisted in his shirt as his mouth opened over the juncture between my shoulder and neck.
His mouth, my god, his mouth.
I was ready to explode. He was too much for me. How could a woman survive a man like this?
I began to squirm, wanting to end the torture, but froze at the sharp sting of his teeth.
My freaking eyes rolled back in my head.
“Take what I give you,” he muttered.
I whimpered, then cried indignantly, “What happened to asking for what I want?”
“There’s a fine line between asking for what you want and trying to take over.”
“You going to inform me where that line is?” I retorted.
“In my own way.” He touched the tip of his nose to mine.
My lips parted, my chin tipped up, and I tilted my head.
He was so close his breath mixed with mine. When he moved in closer, my eyes fluttered shut.
His tongue slowly traced the curve of my bottom lip. At the corner of my mouth, he paused and dropped the gentlest of kisses before nudging my head to the side and treating the other side of my neck to the same sweet torture.
A grunt the likes of which I’d never heard before passed my lips.
And the bastard laughed.
If I had the strength, I swear to God, I would have flipped him onto his back and fucked the life out of him.
As it was, I could do nothing but give myself over into his oh-so-fucking-capable hands and wait for him to give me his kiss.
I released my death grip on his shirt and melted into the mattress, every cell of my being attuned to his mouth, his breath, his teeth, and the weight of his body covering mine.
“Yes,” he praised, leaving my neck to hover over me. “That’s what I want from you. Give yourself over to me. I want that. I want you.”
I looked into his serious eyes and nodded.
They crinkled at the corners, and that warmed me to my toes.
And then his mouth finally met mine.
Softly, the sweetest, lightest brush, stealing my breath. He took his time, his soft lips learning mine, taste by achingly sweet taste.
“Harley,” he muttered. “This mouth has made more than one appearance in my dreams.”
“Daydreams or nightdreams?” I breathed.
“Both,” he replied gutturally before getting serious and sealing his mouth over mine.
He licked inside my mouth, taunting my tongue and skipping away before diving back in.
His hands tightened on my head as he held me immobile. I kissed him back, stroke for stroke, wondering what good thing I did in my past life to have this man’s mouth on mine.
I ran my hands up and down his sides, flexing my fingers into his muscles as I lost myself in his kiss.
His muscles undulated under my hands as his back bowed and he ground his erection into the apex of my thighs.
He’d only just kissed me, we still had our jeans on, and I was about three seconds away from coming all over both of us.
He rolled his hips again, and I began to shake.
Lifting his hips away, he looked into my eyes. “You’re on the edge.”
I searched his eyes, not knowing if it was a good thing or a bad thing but thought it best to err on the side of caution.
“Sorry,” I whispered quickly.
“Nothing to be sorry about, little one.” His beautiful mouth curved into a smile. “But let’s at least get your pants off.”
I groaned with embarrassment.
He laughed and taking my hand, pulled me up to a sitting position.
I rolled to my knees. No point in subjecting him to my tummy rolls this early in the game.
He grasped the hem of my shirt and pulled it up over my head. But instead of taking it off my hands, he wrapped it around my wrists, securing them together. “Lie down and keep your hands over your head.”
“Aren’t you supposed to ask a woman before you tie her up? Do I need a safe word?” I grumbled to cover my discomfort.
“That’s not tied,” he scoffed, then bent to kiss me, his mouth sweet on mine, making me melt back into the mattress. “You could easily free yourself,” he murmured against my mouth. “When I tie you up for real, when you’re completely at my mercy, I’ll ask permission.”
All of a sudden I wanted that more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life.
And it made me all kinds of uncomfortable. Somewhere between the parking lot and my place, I misplaced my feminist card.
He sat up and dragged his hands down to my waistband.
“You can’t just go around all…kindergarten-y and then be all tease me to death and make me come in my pants within five minutes! That’s fifty shades of what the actual fuck! You have to warn a girl.”
“I told you there’s nothing vanilla about me,” he snorted as he undid the fly of my jeans, worked them over my hips before pulling them off my legs.
“Yeah, about five minutes before I found myself on my back!”
He laughed then tossed my jeans to the side. “There.” He sat back on his heels and surveyed the result.
I lay as still as I could under his scrutiny.
When I could stand it no longer, I goaded him. “Are you satisfied?”
His eyes met mine, all hints of playfulness dropped. “To a degree I can’t even begin to describe.”
His sweet words stripped away my bravado and left me bare. I turned my face away.
“No, Harley. What was the one thing I asked of you.”
I closed my eyes and nodded my head. “Honesty.”
“That’s right. And here may be where we need it most.”
Wrapping his long fingers around my ankles, he spread my legs wide, his gaze pointed to my satin covered center.
Tucking his fingers in the front he tugged my panties back and forth, rubbing them against my clit.
My hips rocked, seeking more friction.
“What are you doing to me?” I whispered.
“So sweet,” he whispered back before dragging them down my legs until only my bra remained.
Reaching up, he flicked open the front closure and peeled the cups back. “Now, I’m fucking satisfied,” he muttered.
Kneeling between my legs, he reached back and yanked his shirt over his head.
Wide shoulders. Tight stomach. Lean hips.
Oh, no. He was perfect.
I wanted to hide.
Paul matched me. Neither of us would be runway ready anytime this century.
Except Paul was an ass and, hopefully, I was not.
But Daire? I was struggling to find any fault with the man at all.
“Harley,” he snapped, leaning closer. “When your eyes are on me, I expect you to be thinking of all the dirty things you want to do to me when you get your chance. Right now, I expect you to be wondering about all the dirty things I dream about doing to you. Not thinking about whatever it is that’s putting that frown on your face. ”
I blinked in shock.
“Yes, Harley. I’m watching. I’m watching your every reaction. I’m going to know you better than you know yourself. And I’m going to treat you a helluva lot better too.”
I needed to get over myself. And fast.
“Dirty things?”
He smiled wickedly. “Dirty, filthy things.”
I squeaked and could not quell my smile.
He laughed out loud. “She likes that. Excellent. Now, no more talking.”
“Thank god. I thought you’d never shut up—”
His hand cupping my sex cut off my next words.
I wheezed, “Daire…”
“From this point on, you’re limited to saying yes, no, please, faster, fuck me, and my name. Are we clear?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent.”
Dragging his hand through my slit, he painted my nipples with my wet.
And licked it off.
“I’m going to die,” I muttered.
Slap.
My eyes bugged out. “Did you just slap my pussy?”
Slap.
I pressed my lips together tightly.
“Better,” he grunted, dipping his head to suck my taste off my nipples.
Back and forth he went, stopping only to gather more wet from my aching core.
Beside myself with pleasure, I couldn’t remember what words I was allowed to say. I hazarded a guess. “Please.”
“Please what, Harley?”
This was a trick question.
He dipped his finger inside me, and my hips lifted off the bed, striving to take him deeper.
“Please, Daire.”
Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he sucked them inside.
My pussy clenched on nothing. I needed filling. “Please, fuck me, Daire.”
“Perfect.” He climbed off the bed, fished a condom out of his pocket, and shed his jeans.
Taking his time, he let his eyes roam all over my body while he slowly rolled the condom down his length.
I’d never wanted anything so bad in all my life. “Please…” I wanted to say ‘hurry’ but couldn’t remember if it was on the list. “Faster!” I blurted. That word was allowed.
With one knee to the bed, he crawled up between my thighs, and notched himself at my entrance before aligning his chest with mine.
Clamping his hand around my hip, he pressed me into the mattress, stilling my movements.
Pulling my wrists down so my arms looped around his neck, he lifted himself up onto his hands. “No going back now, okay Harley? I’m not in this for a broken heart at the end.”
I swallowed.
What were the chances I wouldn’t ever want him?
Slim?
Ha.
None.
I could promise not to break his heart, it was mine that was in danger.
“No broken heart,” I promised.
His stomach muscles contracted as he entered me in one, long, push, not stopping until his pelvis hit mine.
I inhaled sharply. It was a tight fit.
He was a big guy, and I was not a whole lot over five feet.
“You’ll adjust, little one. Tell me when you’re good.”
I rocked my hips. He was right. My body relented and let him in. I breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’m good,” I said huskily, wondering how it could be so good between us so soon.
And then he began to move achingly slowly inside me, his pelvis barely brushing my clit.
The state of my hands left me little room to move.
He shifted up and drove inside again, the base of his cock hitting me in all the right places.
My neck arched back. “Yes,” I hissed.
He did it again, and again.
I moaned and tossed my head to the side.
“Give me your eyes, Harley,” he gritted out.
Looking up at him I swore I’d never deprive myself of this view again. His eyes gleamed with intent, his powerful chest loomed over me in the most delicious of ways, and his abdomen flexed with every thrust.
I brought my knees up around his hips, but he shook his head.
“Drop your legs back onto the bed.”
He inched up further and moved faster, grinding against me every time he bottomed out.
My legs began to quake.
I squeezed my eyes shut despite my vow not to, his name a chant on my lips.
“Yes, little spitfire, give it to me, Harley. Come all over my cock.”
The first violent wave hit me. I needed something to hold onto but could grasp nothing. “Help me,” I gasped.
He dropped immediately, his chest anchoring me to the bed, his hips driving unceasingly, his mouth latched onto my neck.
I arched back, pressing my chest closer to his, and slipped into that sweet zone where only he and I and our pleasure existed.
“Perfect. Sweet and oh-so-fucking perfect.”
Those were the first words I heard when I floated back down.
“Are you ready for me?” he murmured, his lips claiming the line of my jaw.
“Yes, Daire,” I murmured, my body lax and completely wrung out.
“Hang on,” he rasped. Pushing up on his hands, he slammed into me, shoving my body up the bed, inch by exquisite inch.
“Harley,” he grunted, back bowing, hips stuttering as he pulsed deep inside me. Dropping to his elbows, he cradled my head in his hands.
With a deep sigh, he tucked his face in my neck. “My Harley.”