Forever in Cape May

Page 33

His muscles clenched, and his eyes filled with a ferocious intensity that made her feel like Wonder Woman and Captain Marvel and Black Widow all rolled up into one. He sat on the barstool, deadly still, waiting for her next move.

She dropped to her knees.

His breath hissed out.

With deft motions, she undid the buckle, slid down his zipper, and took out his hard, throbbing erection.

“Taylz? Um, you don’t have to. I mean, you don’t have to prove a point. I was just—”

“Shut up, Pierce. Let me show you how well I share.” She lowered her head and took him in her mouth.

He cursed as his hands came around to grip the back of her head, his fingers helplessly curling into her scalp. She savored the musky taste of him, the silky-smooth skin encasing steel, and took her time exploring, getting to know him intimately. The floor was hard under her knees, and her jaw ached from his width, but she savored every hot, sexy moment of being a goddess for the man she’d chosen.

He chanted her name and jerked underneath every stroke of her tongue until she took him fully in and sucked hard. With a low roar, he suddenly lifted her up in one quick swoop, settling her on his lap to straddle him on the stool, his breath coming in ragged pants. His face was wild with need, and he took her mouth in a violent kiss that she reveled in, her hands gripping him tight.

“You drive me out of my mind,” he muttered against her lips, his hands quickly pushing up her work skirt to her waist. She sucked in her breath as his fingers edged the lace of her underwear aside and dove in, deftly playing with her, his thumb barely brushing her throbbing clit. “My turn.”

Her hips writhed under his ministrations. He studied her face with a ruthless intensity, taking in every reaction, tweaking his fingers until he’d wrung out the most intense of responses.

“Go in my right pocket. Get the condom.”

She obeyed, thrilling to his rough demand, her entire body trembling as he pressed harder and rubbed in the most sensitive of spots. Sweat pricked her brow. God, she wanted to come so bad; her entire being craved being pushed over the edge, where she could finally fly.

“Now put it on me. Real slow.”

She bit her lip as he thrust his fingers deep, hitting her G-spot. “Oh God. Pierce, I want—”

“Know what you want, Taylz.” He nibbled on her mouth, sucked her lower lip. “Just do it.”

Most men submitted to her in the bedroom. Her dominant personality seemed to spill over to her lovemaking, and she was a demanding partner who expected to be pleased. Right now, Pierce knew she could easily take what she wanted without waiting. But the play was turning her on, the rough demand of him telling her what to do such a sweet relief from always being in charge of every ruthless corner of her life. She loved giving him that type of permission to please her and found even more power by allowing him to take control. No other man had ever given her such freedom.

Her hands shook as she fit the condom on him. His tongue lazily thrust in and out of her mouth, setting up the pace, his fingers slowly withdrawing. She protested the loss, but then he was unbuttoning her blouse, shoving up her bra, and sucking hard on her pointed nipples, driving her slowly insane.

“Put me inside you,” he growled, finally lifting his head. “Then ride me.”

She shuddered. Then obeyed.

The hot, thick length of him filled her up completely, driving out the memory of any other who had gone before him. There were no longer empty spaces inside her, and she struggled in that moment with the sheer intensity of her feelings, the grip of her channel milking his cock, the feel of her inner thighs squeezing his hips, the press of her forehead against his, the mingling of their breath, the lock of their gazes.

He began to move.

She was lost in sensation. Her eyes slid closed as she gave herself up to him, letting him take her on a wild ride where animal instinct ruled and the only thing that mattered was getting more of him. With each thrust, she arched hard against him, giving her clit the perfect pressure, and then she was coming hard, splintering apart while he held her tight, spinning out of control and knowing she was completely safe.

His body jerked as he followed her over. They spent several moments catching their breath, him still buried deep, her hands stroking his back.

“You win,” he finally said.


“You get the rest of the pasta. You’re the best sharer.”

She laughed. “I think I like settling arguments this way.”

“Me, too. Can’t wait for the next one.” He carefully lifted her off to set her on her feet, removed the condom, and brought over a wet cloth to clean her. The tender ministrations made her insides go mushy, each stroke of his hands on her body making her feel treasured.

She undressed, kicked her clothes to the corner of the kitchen, and filled up a glass of water. When she turned around, his brow was lifted. “What?”

He jerked his head toward the pile. “Hamper?”

She rolled her eyes, picked up the clothes, and placed them in the basket inside his bedroom. She grabbed a T-shirt from his drawer and shrugged it on. By the time she’d returned, he’d added ice to her water, since he knew she loved it cold, and had placed it carefully on a coaster. Taylor hid a smile.

“TV? Sleep? Book?” he asked.

She wasn’t a snuggler. In fact, she was known to be the runner after a sexual encounter. But right now, she just wanted to hang out under a blanket and relax with him.

“Movie?” she asked.

“Sounds good.” He took his regular corner of the couch and stretched out, gesturing for her to join him. She curled up next to him, her head on his chest, and he pulled her favorite afghan over their bare legs. He paused on one of the channels. “Adam Sandler classic?”

“Not in the mood to hear any more wedding singers.” She made a face and he laughed. He stopped on the horror movie The Shining, and she made an approving noise. “Now, this is a classic. King is a master. I even loved the sequel.”

“Me, too. Can’t go wrong with good old Jack.” He placed the remote down and tugged her closer, their feet intertwined. “Oh, man, it’s the creepy-twins time!”

“And buckets of blood. Damn, we should’ve made popcorn.”

“Remember that time you tried to scare your sisters by pretending there were real ghosts in your house?” he asked.

The memory made her chuckle. “Hell, I was good. Bella had to sleep with Mom for a week. I recorded those crazy noises and slipped it under her bed to go off around midnight. Sheer brilliance.”

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