Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
DANIKA
I’d lunged the moment my front door closed behind Leo, grabbing hold of his shirt—another faded concert tee, this one for Metallica—and yanking him down so I could fuse our lips together. He got with the program just as quickly, opening his mouth so our tongues could battle.
His hands skated across my body, traveling everywhere like he couldn’t touch enough, before finally reaching around to squeeze my ass and pull me harder against him.
“Bedroom,” I panted, tearing my lips from his so I could taste his jaw, his neck, anything I could reach. He took my mouth again in a demanding kiss as we began shuffling toward the hall, desperate to get to my room, but too consumed with each other to stop what we were doing for even a second.
“How drunk are you, sweetness?” he asked against my skin as he nipped at my shoulder.
“I’m not—oof!” My words ended on a yelp when my heel caught the edge of the rug and I started going down. He caught me before I could go too far, lifting me off the ground so I was forced to wrap my legs around his lean waist—not that I minded in the slightest.
At his chuckle, I pulled my head back, looking down at him through the darkness. We’d been so hungry for each other we hadn’t turned on a single light. He was smiling, his white teeth glinting on the shadows. “You were sayin’?”
I let out a giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’m not drunk.”
His grin got bigger as he carried me down the hall like I weighed practically nothing. “Uh huh,” he muttered dubiously.
“I’m not,” I insisted as he entered my bedroom.
He shifted me in his hold, balancing me with one arm as he reached out and flipped the switch, bathing the room in light.
“Right, darlin’,” he said quietly, carrying me to the foot of the bed and lowering me down to the mattress. He leaned back in, kissing me softer and slower than he had been before.
His palms landed on my outer thighs, just above the knee and started a languid pace up my legs, lifting the hem of my dress higher as they went.
“Jesus, Danika.” He pressed his fingers deep into the flesh at my hips. “When I saw you in this dress tonight . . .” His words trailed off on a groan, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Glad you like it.”
“Oh, baby.” He put his hands on the bed and pressed up so he could do a scan from my face all the way down. “I more than like it. But it wasn’t the dress. It was you in it.”
Okay, I liked that. Like, a lot. And I made that known by taking his face in my hands, slanting my head, and pulling him back down.
After making out on my couch the other night, I’d been walking around in a constant state of arousal.
It had been a long time for me. Too long, and I’d never felt this desperate in my life.
“Leo,” I breathed against his lips, sliding a hand between us and cupping his crotch. He was so long and hard. “I want you.”
So it had to be said, I wasn’t drunk, but I’d had just enough to drink to put me over the line and well into tipsy. It wasn’t enough to impair my senses, but enough to lower my inhibitions and shed my nerves so I could ask for what I wanted—namely, Leo.
“Fuck me,” he grunted, driving his hips against my palm.
I pressed harder, squeezing as best I could through the denim.
I was giddy with anticipation and wet with need.
I smiled big at the thought of what was about to happen.
Then, out of nowhere, he shackled my wrist with his fingers and pulled my hand away, pinning it to the mattress beside my head.
“Leo. What—?” My words broke off into a gasp when his other hand slipped between my thighs, brushing lightly against the damp material of my panties.
He let out a hum of approval when my body reacted to him pressing harder against the flimsy lace.
My head fell back and my spine arched, my lips parting on a silent mewl.
“Christ, Danika. Already drenched.” He pushed the fabric aside and traced a line through my slit, keeping his touch featherlight.
I whimpered and rotated my hips, pleading, “Honey, please.”
“Even sweet when she begs,” he murmured to himself. “Love hearin’ you call me honey, sweetness.”
I cried out when he pushed two fingers inside me, pumping them in and out.
My walls clenched around the digits, and with my free hand, I grabbed hold of his hair, needing to keep myself grounded as he toyed with me.
My nails scraped along his scalp as I thrust my hips, taking his fingers as deep as I could.
“Leo,” I panted, opening my eyes, but my lids would only raise halfway. “I need more.” I tugged at the hand he still had pressed onto the bed, but his grip only tightened. “I need to touch you.”
“Tonight’s not about me.”
My eyes snapped open all the way and my head came up at that declaration.
“What?” I began to pull harder at my hand, but the fight drained out of me completely when his thumb came into play, rubbing against my clit as he drove his fingers inside me harder.
I collapsed, feeling the pressure low in my belly begin to grow and grow.
“Tonight’s all about you,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I want to watch your face while I get you off. I want to hear you moan my name.”
“Oh, God,” I cried. “I’m gonna—”
“Say it,” he gritted, thrusting his fingers deeper and faster. “You know what I want to hear.”
“Leo! Yes,” I shouted as my release blistered through me, leaving a scorched path in its wake. I writhed and moaned as he continued working me over, not letting up until there was nothing left.
He gently pulled his fingers away but left his hand between my legs, cupping me and making me shiver as he leaned in and spoke against my lips. “But you know what I want most?” He didn’t give me a chance to answer. “I want to see if your pussy tastes as sweet as the rest of you.”
He moved faster than I could blink, going down to his knees at the foot of the bed. He grabbed my panties, pulling them down and tossing them over his shoulder before shoving my dress up to my waist, leaving my most sensitive parts completely bared to him.
I came up on my elbows just as he lowered his head and dragged his tongue through my slit.
It wasn’t just the feel of him that wracked my whole body with shivers, but also the sight of his dark head between my pale thighs, and those intoxicating hazel eyes staring up at me as he ate me.
It was everything that was Leo Drake, and it was why I couldn’t hold myself up for longer than the fifteen seconds it took to take that visual in.
One hand flew up, clutching my bedspread in a tight fist while the other found his hair and gripped tight. I groaned and whimpered, gyrating against his face with abandon as he switched between flicking my clit and driving his tongue deep.
It didn’t take long, only a minute or two, before I went off again. This one wasn’t quite as strong as the first, but that didn’t mean it was any less brilliant, and as I came down, he kissed and caressed the insides of my thighs gently, almost lovingly.
“I knew it,” he said in a soft voice, placing one last kiss close to my knee before moving up to hover over me. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
I’d just come twice, both orgasms given to me by the man I’d secretly been fantasizing about for most of my life, all of that after spending hours with my girls, drinking and having a fantastic time, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise when my eyelids started to feel heavy and I struggled to lift my arm to brush my hair from my forehead.
I was just starting to summon the strength to sit up when Leo stood, grabbed my hands, and pulled me up.
I lost sight of him for just a second when he bunched my dress up in his hands and pulled it up over my head.
He unhooked my strapless bra and tossed it on top of my dress.
Then I watched in amazement as he reached over his head and pulled off his shirt.
It didn’t hit the ground with my clothes like I expected, but instead, he slipped it over my head, helping to guide my arms through the sleeves.
“Um . . .” I trailed off when he squatted down and began to remove my strappy heels one by one.
Next, he went for the button on his jeans. I didn’t move, I didn’t even breathe as he toed off his boots, removed his socks and discarded his jeans, leaving him in only a pair of black boxer briefs.
“Which side of the bed do you usually sleep on?”
I didn’t hear a word he’d just said. The second his shirt came off and I got a first-hand glimpse at all that hard, thick muscle, my brain had glitched, and it only got worse when he removed his pants.
I knew Leo was strong, and I knew he was built, but seeing all of that right before my eyes was just . . . hot damn!
“Sweetness?”
I came out of my stupor, giving my head a shake as I looked up to see him smirking at me. “Huh?”
“You look your fill?” he asked, bracing his hands on his hips as his expression took a turn to cocky, which only made him even hotter.
“Sorry, it’s just . . . You can’t be real. It’s like you’re photoshopped!”
He took a step toward me, chuckling as he reached for my wrist and pressed my palm to his chest, right over his beating heart, stating, “It’s all real. Promise.”
“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled, my head getting foggy as I dragged my hand across all those ripples and ridges. “I see that now.”
“Not that I mind you touchin’ me, darlin’, because I really don’t, but it’s late, so I’ll ask again. Which side of the bed is yours?”
Wait . . . I dropped my hand and stopped counting his abs—I got to six, but I hadn’t finished—to look up at him. “You’re staying the night?”
His head cocked to the side in bewilderment. “You thought I’d just get you off and bail?”
“Well . . . no. I mean, when you put it like that, it sounds bad, but I thought . . . because of your kids and all, you’d, you know, have to leave.”
“They’re both at sleepovers, which means I don’t have to run out on you like I did last time. Now, that said, Macie’s bein’ dropped off around nine, so I still have to get up early to get home.”
A big, ridiculous smile stretched from ear to ear before I could stop it as I repeated, “You’re staying the night.”
He returned my smile with a grin of his own that made me tingly everywhere. “Yeah, sweetness. If that’s okay with you.”
Maybe it was the alcohol still addling my brain, or maybe it was the two orgasms the man had just given me, but, instead of freaking out like I usually would, all I felt was happy.
In any other circumstance I’d be stressing if my house was clean enough or worried that I may do something super embarrassing like snore really loud, but not now. Now, I was floating.
“I usually start out on the left but roll to the middle at some point.” I answered honestly.
“Middle it is,” he said. “Now scooch. I’m gonna do a quick check of your locks.”
He disappeared from the room a second later, and I quickly did as he said, scooching back toward the pillows.
By the time he returned and killed the lights, I was on the left side, beneath the covers.
He didn’t hesitate to throw them back and climb in right beside me, shifting down until his head hit the pillow.
Once he was settled, he continued to rock my world by hooking his arm around my waist and pulling me toward the middle of the bed, shifting me around until his chest was pressed to my back and his legs were tangled with mine.
Okay. So . . . this was happening. Who would have guessed Leo Drake liked to spoon?
“Night, baby,” he mumbled into the darkness.
“Goodnight, Leo,” I whispered in return. Then I stared off into nothing while thinking that my dream man was, at that very moment, cuddling me. I rolled my lips between my teeth to keep from squealing in excitement.
And once I had a lock on that, I closed my eyes and passed out.