Sixty Nine (Payne Brothers Romance Book 4) Page 3

  “That’s who I am.”

  “No. That’s the man you’ve become.”

  He frowned. “Glory, you don’t know who I am. You don’t know who I’ve been.”

  “And you don’t know a goddamned thing about me or how much I might be able to help.”

  “No one can help me.”

  “Have you ever let anyone try?”

  He hesitated, his eyes hardening. “And ruin what we have?”

  The heat of his skin radiated through my fingertips. The warmth rushed into me, possessing me, binding me. Ravenous in desire, hungry for his confession.

  “Aren’t you curious what this could feel like?” I brushed my hand against his cheek. His jaw flexed under my touch. Hard. Defensive. “To go to bed together? Don’t you wonder how it’d feel to wake up next to each other?”

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  Neither could I, but I’d call in every favor to make it happen. “You refuse to do that.”

  “It’s the safest way.”

  Always so dramatic. “We’ve done everything else. You’ve touched me. Kissed me. Every night we meet, I take you in my mouth and delight you with my tongue. Why not follow our instincts? Give in to ourselves?”

  I glanced down. A hardness in his pants bulged with an obscene and delicious need. He knew it, but he didn’t apologize for it.

  V kept his voice low, rough. “Sex has meaning.”

  “Yes.” I gently caressed his lip with my thumb. “Trust. Excitement. Passion.”

  “It’s more than that.”

  I hoped it would be.

  I pushed away from his chest with a skilled shimmy. He watched every teasing step as I sauntered to the bed. The softness welcomed me. I climbed over the sheets, stretching with a sexy grace as I positioned myself on my hands and knees.

  Direct.

  Why hide it?

  “My entire life is sex, V,” I whispered.

  “No, it’s not. You dance.”

  “Dancing is sex. What you think the men imagine while I’m onstage?”

  He swallowed. “We share the same fantasies, I’m sure.”

  “They want me, V. Every one of them. They watch me, fascinated, when I dance. They go silent when I drop my panties. They get hard when I wrap around the pole.” I arched forward, rubbing my hips along the mattress. “They imagine me on my knees for them. Or with my legs spread around them. Or with my lips parted, coming for them. Pleasuring them. I have them completely in my control.”

  Varius laughed. “And you love that power.”

  “Who wouldn’t?” I rolled onto my back, crossing my legs at the ankles so he could no longer peak at the part of me he wanted most. “So, tell me, V. The men want me. Offer me cash, jewelry, beach houses. I could earn everything I want and more with a single night…” I nearly groaned. “But when I’m on that stage, the only man I can imagine being with is you.”

  He drew closer, his pride unmistakable. “Is that so?”

  “Every single night.” Honesty could be a weapon as well. I whipped him with the confession and damned the consequences. “I imagine that you’re sitting in the club. Eyes on me. Ordering a dance. Opening the champagne…” I bit my lip. “Is that so wrong?”

  “It means we shouldn’t do this. It means too much to both of us.”

  It was entirely too late for such concerns.

  Falling for this man didn’t scare me, but the thought of losing him? Nothing could prepare me for that devastation.

  “I’m a big girl, V,” I said. “I can handle myself.”

  “And I’m ashamed for wanting to believe that.”

  And he lived in a constant state of contrition to absolve himself of those feelings.

  I encouraged him closer with a curl of my finger. He hesitated, but it wasn’t reluctance that slowed his movements. Only eagerness gave him pause.

  But the lick of my lips and the slow parting of my thighs lowered him to the bed.

  “Don’t worry about my heart.” I arched an eyebrow. “Just let this happen.”

  His eyes should’ve been a brilliant green. Instead time, stress, and misery dulled the charm. “Glory, I’m not worried about you.”

  I gentled my voice. “When was the last time someone worried about you?”

  “All day, every day.” He looked down. “If I haven’t driven them away.”

  “What could you’ve done that would drive anyone away?”

  “We agreed not to make this personal.”

  My heart ached. “Too bad. I want to know the real you.”

  “That’s the one thing I can’t give.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  He moved over me, arms planted at my sides. I didn’t sink into the bed, not yet. I faced him, lips to lips. Waiting. Trembling.

  His kiss consumed me. Fierce and commanding, just as I’d fantasized about every night and hated myself every morning.

  What had started as a teasing, private dance had become a dangerous game of attraction. First, a kiss. Then a touch. It took three weeks before he’d dared to pleasure me. And it took another two before he allowed me to return the favor.

  But he hadn’t taken me. That was the agreement. Those few touches, the stolen kisses, were as far as we could go. No sex. No names. Just frustration and simple comfort in our own desire.

  I groaned. My silken folds still ached from where my fingers had teased, but now I throbbed in memory of his touch. My legs parted, and I welcomed V between my thighs. His jeans bumped that slickness into my panties. Desperately wet. Shamefully revealing.

  I gripped his shoulders, and his hand slipped over my curves. The heat dizzied us both.

  “I should go.” His words were a whisper, shadowed by the wrath of desire.

  I hated to beg. “Don’t.”

  “Were about to make a tremendous mistake.”

  “I don’t make mistakes.”

  He didn’t look away. “I do. A lot of them. I can’t afford another.”

  “Do I frighten you that much?”

  He didn’t release me, but the tension shook for him, binding him to the bed. “Nothing scares me anymore.”

  I bit my words. “Then why don’t you want me?”

  He swore. The first time I’d heard such coarseness on his lips.

  “Damn it, Glory. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman. And that’s the problem. I haven’t wanted anything in a long time. I haven’t felt anything in a long time. Not joy. Not sorrow. Not pleasure. I’ve been numb for so long…and then I met you. And now it’s coming back. All of it.”

  “What’s coming back?”

  His hands tightened over me. Almost painful. “Those feelings.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  It wasn’t his normal laugh. This was cold. Pained. “It’s wretched. Life is cruel enough. The numbness was my last blessing.”

  I leaned forward, but he avoided my kiss. My body ached for him, my heart broke for him, and my vision darkened to everything but him. “You can’t deny yourself. You can’t deny your feelings.”

  “I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever have to face it again.”

  “Face what?”

  “Myself.”

  I took his hand before he pulled away. “I face you every time you step into this hotel room, and I like what I see.”

  “What I want to do to you is a sin,” he whispered. “These thoughts, these urges. It makes me more beast than man.”

  “That’s what makes it fun,” I promised.

  “That’s what makes it dangerous.”

  “That’s what makes it meaningful.”

  “That’s what makes it painful.”

  I swallowed, not trusting my own words. “That’s what makes it ours.”

  V turned wild in a heartbeat and captured me in his arms. The thrill burned through me. I welcomed the desperate grace of
his lips against mine.

  Stolen perfection.

  His hands roamed my body, like he hadn’t memorized it before. Like he didn’t already know every inch of me. As though the only thing that remained were the secrets I held inside. Hidden and dangerous. Ready and waiting.

  He seized my body with enough force to grind me against the mattress, but the man was still gentle. His kiss took without presumption, his touch lingered without remorse, but everything, every breath, every heartbeat that fluttered in our frenzied desire, was safe within his possession.

  He didn’t move from me, not even to remove the scrap of panties separating me from him. His lips traced a path along my neck. He paused, as if savoring where my heart beat so fiercely inside my chest. His words murmured.

  “Forgive me.”

  Forgive him? I should’ve thanked him.

  I’d never been so thoroughly, utterly, completely conquered with a single kiss.

  His body covered mine with passion and strength, but V used his very soul to make love. I trembled beneath him, but he looked at me with such reverence it stole my thoughts. I couldn’t whimper. Couldn’t tease. Couldn’t do anything but surrender to the most gorgeous, complicated, sinfully good man outside of Heaven.

  His kisses trailed over my breasts. The swirl of his tongue over my nipple almost felt cool, attacked by the brief tease of air as he pulled away. But V wasn’t cruel. Nothing he did was meant to give discomfort. Only to pleasure. His mouth seized me, surrounding me in a blissful heat, sinful suction, and just the hint of his teeth, tugging at the dark nub.

  He gripped them, squeezing, delighting in the swollen mounds. I ran my fingers through his hair as he suckled. My giggle only encouraged him. He pinched the pebble between his fingers, and I arched for the soothing caress of his tongue as he teased the piercings.

  “More?” he asked.

  “You’ll never give me enough.”

  “I like a challenge.”

  “I like an optimist.”

  His lips tickled lower, guided by his hands as he spread my legs and settled between them. My tummy quivered as his kiss tickled low, over the scar.

  He didn’t ask. I didn’t offer. More secrets between us.

  So close, and yet we were still worlds apart.

  I rested against the pillows as his attention led directly to the wet, desperate part of me, eager for his touch. He said nothing, only murmured a silent prayer as he seized me in his mouth and kissed the soft petals I offered him.

  Then the world faded away, and nothing mattered save for the unrelenting promises whispered with every lick.

  The magic he wove with his tongue was life-altering. A miraculous explosion of instinct and generosity. I ground my hips against his mouth and guided him deeper into my slickness. He groaned as I did, his fingers sinking into my hips, squeezing, clawing to drag me closer to his mouth.

  V loved the sounds I made, the wiggles of my hips, the crest that I saved just for him. He got off on my pleasure and hardened as I slickened with every perfect swipe of his tongue.

  But I needed so much more. More than the quick lick that soothed me and tortured him. More than the frenzied desire that would end this too quickly and cast us from each other’s lives once more. He buried himself between my legs, and yet all I could do was fear the instant I would lose him.

  He had to know how I felt.

  I pushed him away with a surprising amount of restraint. Or was I just punishing myself for being so damned stupid in falling for this man?

  But V understood. Even the most patient man grew uncomfortable when confined to his jeans. He guided me over his body, helping me to straddle his shoulders. Just how we liked it. Just how we’d pleased ourselves so many times before. My slit at his lips, and his wickedly hard bulge at my own.

  This had felt too good in the past. It’d promised too much pleasure to lovers so desperate for each other that our bodies crippled and hearts broke while separated by those last few inches. I swung into the sixty-nine as he grunted. His harsh words were directed at himself—a curse as his cock hardened, demanding and wild.

  A man this beautiful had no need to ask forgiveness. His cock was a work of art, one which needed to be touched, sucked, stroked, and worshiped to be truly appreciated.

  I swallowed him, the only cock worth smearing my lipstick. His hips bucked upward, and I welcomed the hot slice of his flesh along my tongue. Especially as he rewarded me with a lick of gratitude along my sensitive slit. He feasted upon me with a muffled groan, sinking within my softness.

  It was enough to drive a girl crazy if she had nothing to distract her.

  I popped his thick shaft into my mouth and bobbed as deeply as I could. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, but tonight was worse. Tonight, promises broke and sins encroached. I sucked and teased and licked, but it didn’t ease the tension within either of us.

  My body ached for him. My core clenched in anticipation.

  Our mouths delighted, but it wasn’t the same as that ultimate surrender to each other.

  God, I craved that connection more than anything in this world. And he felt the same. I had the proof throbbing in my hand. My mouth. Circled under my tongue as I lapped the drops of pre-cum from his cock.

  And as a reward, he sunk his tongue within me. I rocked against his lips, delighted him with shivers as he tasted my every honest desire for him. The heat churned in my core, and I groaned over the thickness in my mouth. V didn’t stop. He assaulted me with gentleness and seduced me with a skillful possession of my slit.

  Too much.

  Too fast.

  The ache clenched deep inside, blinding me in the delirious tension.

  He wanted me to come. And, like an idiot, like a lovesick fool, I battled my own instinct.

  Why were we doing this to ourselves?

  Why didn’t we just submit to our desires? Why did we torture our bodies and minds and souls?

  We both knew the truth already—what we felt for each other, how dangerous our infatuations had become. All that remained was the madness clawing at our inhibitions.

  I panted, close to weeping, as the desire trembled a deep, secret spot inside me.

  “End it now…” I struggled to escape from his grasp before he took from me that final pleasure. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  His grip tightened, but I pushed his hands, clawed at his fingers, and kicked from the bed. No more. A girl could only be tormented for so long, could only let her heart break so many times.

  I’d never underestimated his strength, but V never had a cause to use it. He didn’t allow me to escape. He captured me around the waist, and he pushed me back to the bed. I fell onto the comforter as he moved over me, positioning me.

  Onto my hands and knees. Head down. Bottom up.

  Eager and wet.

  “Glory…”

  I couldn’t see him, but his shadow surrounded me. I arched as his fingers rolled over my hips, my slickness, then along my back.

  I burned for him, hot and eager.

  V said nothing. No second thoughts. No stabilizing breaths. He paused only long enough to align our bodies, and then his cock pressed against my folds.

  And I was lost. My breath failed me.

  He drove through me, filling me with inch after inch of his monstrous cock.

  No reprieves. Not even a minute to adjust.

  He slammed inside me as completely as he could, taking everything I’d promised and then so much more.

  And the world slipped away, delivering us to a sinful paradise.

  He tore through my every desire and enveloped me with unending pleasure. Our bodies connected, and he seized my pussy as if he’d always belonged inside me.

  We shuddered. Groaned. Arched.

  And when he moved, when he stretched everything inside of me just to earn my whimper, I could do nothing but submit to our insatiable desire.

  I was a fool to think I wouldn’t feel anything but pleasure.

  I w
as lost the instant he mounted me. Broken and destroyed, left in ruins only to be redeemed by his touch, his voice, his kiss.

  V took me with this entire body—the stroke of his cock only one delight. He pushed me onto the bed, belly flat against the blankets. His length fit in me completely. Hardly pulling out, only enough to drive forward and fill me again and again. He buried himself in my core, and covered my quivering, sweating flesh with his.

  Commanding me. Pleasuring me.

  Filling me.

  I lost my breath, surrendering to the ravenous demands of his wicked cock. The blankets held me in place, and his weight did the rest. He didn’t crush me, but I lay pinned beneath him.

  Better than my wildest fantasies. Nothing I’d ever imagined compared to the dizzying, consuming thrust of his hardness—deep, thick, and enraged by passion.

  His breathing became a heavy grunt, a masculine and dangerous encouragement. Every movement seemed to madden him, but my body offered comfort, pleasure, safety.

  Why did it pain him to take me?

  I twisted beneath him, begging for a kiss. V’s arm wrapped under my body, capturing me from my tummy to my neck. His fingers gripped my throat.

  But his kiss promised only protection.

  The intensity terrified me.

  It didn’t make sense. Not the feelings I had, the desperation I felt in his arms. Not the words I wanted to say, nor the kiss I never wished to end.

  His every thrust stole me from reality, grinding me deeper and deeper into a fantasy that would lose my soul and break my heart and deliver me to absolute ecstasy.

  This was everything I’d ever wanted.

  And what would happen now that we’d taken it?

  His fingers intertwined with mine, gripping me, pinning me down this as thrusts punished us for daring to dream of this moment.

  His raw, bare cock burrowed deep. I tightened over it. No holding back. No hiding it. No need to resist. The pleasure was ours to take.

  It shattered us both.

  I came for him.

  Worse.

  I fell for him.

  Head over heels, but I didn’t stop tumbling. The crippling pleasure tore through me, shredding my soul, bruising my heart, and destroying my mind.

  This couldn’t be Heaven, for nothing so good was ever holy. But what did I need with an eternity when I found paradise with him?