Chapter 18 #2
Then his hands are on my breasts, calloused palms rough against my skin. I gasp at the contact, my back arching slightly. His touch is reverent almost, like I'm something precious. It's a far cry from the last time someone touched me like this—all fumbling hands and cheap beer breath.
"God," I breathe, because his thumb is rolling over my nipple and it's sending sparks straight between my legs.
"Too much?" he murmurs, but his voice is rough, strained.
I shake my head, biting my lip. "Don't you dare stop."
He doesn't. If anything, his touch gets bolder, his fingers pinching my nipple just hard enough to make me whimper. Then his mouth is there, hot and wet, and I'm pretty sure my knees are going to give out.
"Dane," I manage, my fingers tangling in his dark hair. It's shorter than I usually like, but damn if it doesn't feel good between my fingers. "Bed. Now."
He doesn't argue, just scoops me up like I weigh nothing and lays me down on the sheets. They're cool against my bare back, a stark contrast to the heat of his body over mine.
"Last chance to run," he murmurs, his lips against my collarbone.
I tilt his face up to mine, kissing him hard. "Shut up and fuck me already."
Dane makes a restrained sound in the back of his throat, something between a growl and a groan that sends shivers racing across my skin.
"Be careful what you say to me, Lila," he warns, voice rough as gravel. "My control is hanging by a mere thread. I need to go slow or I'll lose it."
I want to sass him back, tell him maybe I want him to lose it—but the intensity in his eyes stops the words in my throat. There's something dangerous there, something barely leashed that both thrills and intimidates me.
Instead, I just nod, my breath hitching as his mouth returns to my skin.
He trails kisses down my throat like he's mapping territory, each press of his lips deliberate and scorching.
When he reaches my breasts, his tongue circles my nipple before drawing it into his mouth, and holy shit, my back actually arches off the bed.
"Oh, God," I gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders.
His answering chuckle vibrates against my skin. "Patience."
Easy for him to say. He's not the one currently melting into a puddle.
Dane's hands move to the waistband of my jeans, his fingers teasing along the sensitive skin just above it. I squirm underneath him, trying to hurry him along, but he just pins my hips with one large hand.
"I said slow," he reminds me, and the command in his voice makes something liquid pool low in my belly.
He takes his sweet time unzipping my jeans, sliding them down my legs inch by torturous inch. I'm pretty sure this is what going insane feels like—every nerve ending in my body is screaming for more contact while he's treating this like some kind of tantric meditation exercise.
"You know, at this rate," I pant, "I'll be collecting social security before we actually?—"
His fingers press against me through my underwear, and whatever smartass comment I was about to make dissolves into a moan.
"You were saying?" he asks, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.
"Smartass," I breathe, but it comes out more like a gasp as Dane's fingers continue their maddening exploration through the thin cotton of my underwear. Each stroke sends lightning up my spine, and I'm fighting to keep my hips still.
When he finally hooks his fingers into the waistband and slides my underwear down, I'm practically vibrating with need. But instead of continuing, he pauses, his expression suddenly serious.
"Lila, before we go further... I need to warn you about something."
My heart stutters. Oh God, is this where he tells me he has an STD? Or a wife? Or he's actually an alien with tentacles instead of?—
"I'm larger than average," he says, looking utterly serious, like he was delivering a medical disclaimer. "It can be painful for some women. I don't want to hurt you."
I blink up at him, trying to process what he's saying. Holy shit. Did he actually just give me the "my dick's too big" warning? Like, for real? In twenty-five years, this is definitely a first.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. I mean, guys have bragged about size before, but never as a hazard warning. It's like finding a "Caution: Hot" label on a coffee cup, except it's... well, you know.
"Is that... common for you?" I ask, trying to keep my face neutral. "Giving penis safety briefings?"
"I'm serious, Lila."
"So am I," I say, reaching up to touch his face. "Look, I appreciate the heads-up, but maybe we cross that anatomical bridge when we get to it?"
His expression softens slightly. "Just tell me if I hurt you, okay? At any point."
I nod, touched by his concern despite the absurdity. "Pretty sure I can handle you, Wolfe."
The intensity in his eyes makes my breath catch. "We'll see."
When Dane stands to remove his pants, I can't help but watch with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. The muscles in his abdomen flex as he pushes his jeans down, and I'm too busy admiring that perfect V-line to notice anything else at first.
Then I look down and—holy shit.
Oh. My. God.
"That's... wow." The words tumble out before I can stop them. My eyes widen, and I'm pretty sure my jaw is somewhere on the floor.
Turns out his "size warning" wasn't just male ego talking. The man is not kidding around down there. Like, at all. I've seen my share of naked guys, but this is... well, "larger than average" feels like calling a hurricane "a bit breezy."
"You weren't exaggerating," I manage, my mouth suddenly dry. I swallow hard, heat rushing through my entire body.
"We'll take it slow."
"Oh, we definitely will," I breathe, unable to tear my eyes away.
Something primal kicks in, overriding any lingering nervousness. My body responds instantly, desire flooding through me with an intensity that's almost embarrassing. I press my thighs together, acutely aware of how wet I am.
"Jesus Christ, Dane," I whisper, reaching out to touch him. He sucks in a sharp breath when my fingers make contact. "Were you, like, exposed to radiation as a teenager?"
He laughs, the sound low and strained.
"Sorry. Defense mechanism," I admit about the jokes, my voice husky. "Kind of like how prey animals freeze when they see a predator."
His eyes darken at that. "Is that what I am? A predator?"
"In the best possible way," I assure him.
Dane rolls to his side next to me, his body radiating heat like a furnace. His eyes lock with mine, intense and focused in a way that makes my insides clench.
"One thing that'll help you take me in is being very wet," he says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me.
I swallow hard, trying to maintain at least a shred of my usual snark. "Is this the dirty talk portion of the evening? Because I feel like we should've established a safe word first."
He doesn't laugh, just gives me that look—the one that makes me feel like I'm being peeled open layer by layer. "I need to check."
Oh. My. God.
His hand slides down my abdomen, callused fingers trailing fire across my skin.
I'm trying to breathe normally, but it's like my lungs have forgotten how to function.
Each inch he travels south makes my heart rate spike another ten beats per minute.
By the time he reaches between my legs, I might as well be running a marathon.
Two fingers slide into me without warning, and I gasp, my back arching involuntarily. Holy shit. The sensation is overwhelming—stretching, filling, his fingers curving inside me like he already knows exactly where to touch.
When he withdraws them, they're coated with evidence of just how ready I am. My face burns, but I can't look away as Dane maintains eye contact while deliberately rubbing my wetness along the length of his cock.
It's literally the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. The room suddenly feels about a thousand degrees warmer.
"Fuck," I breathe, because my brain has apparently lost access to my vocabulary.
His eyes darken further, if that's even possible. "That's the idea."
If I weren't already flat on my back, my knees would have given out.
"I think..." I swallow, trying to find my voice, "I think I'm sufficiently prepared for the challenge, detective."
Dane's lips quirk into that half-smile that makes my stomach do gymnastics. "One can never be too safe. I think I need to make triple sure."
The look in his eyes—hungry, predatory—sends a shiver straight through me. Before I can come up with a witty comeback, he's moving downward, trailing hot kisses from my breasts to my abdomen.
"What are you—" I start, but my question dissolves into a gasp as his mouth reaches the sensitive skin of my lower belly. My hands instinctively tangle in his hair.
Every nerve ending in my body is suddenly on high alert. This was not how I expected the night to go when I knocked on his door an hour ago, but holy hell, I'm not complaining.
"Dane," I breathe, because apparently that's the only word my brain can form right now.
He glances up at me, those steel-gray eyes practically glowing in the dim light. The sight of him between my thighs is enough to make my heart skip several beats.
"Problem?" he asks, his breath hot against my most sensitive spot.
I shake my head frantically. "Absolutely zero problems here. Proceed with your safety inspection."
Then his mouth is on me, and—Jesus Christ—I nearly come off the bed. My back arches involuntarily as his tongue slides against me with devastating precision. For a man who seems so rigid in everyday life, he's surprisingly fluid in this department.
"Oh my god," I gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair.
It's like he's mapping me out, discovering exactly what makes me squirm and then doubling down on it. When he slides one finger inside me while his tongue circles my clit, I make a sound I've never heard myself make before—half moan, half whimper.
Two fingers now, curving upward while his mouth continues its relentless assault, and I'm seeing actual stars. The pressure builds almost painfully fast, tension coiling tighter and tighter in my lower belly.
"I'm gonna—" I try to warn him, but he just intensifies his efforts, and suddenly I'm shattering. The orgasm rips through me with enough force to arch my back completely off the bed, a stream of profanities tumbling from my lips as waves of pleasure pulse outward from my core.
When I finally come back to myself, gasping and trembling, Dane is looking up at me with a smug expression that in any other context would make me want to smack him.
"Safety check complete," he says, his voice rough. "I think you're ready now."