21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (20 page)

He set aside the knife and fork. His hands cradling her cheeks as he brushed away the tears she couldn’t even work up the embarrassment to hide as they slipped, one after another, out of her control.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” his voice trembled low and deep. The dark hair shaping his face was thick, barely long enough to graze the tops of his ears. His perfectly shaped ears, with their gentle whorls and lobes that looked ripe enough to graze with her teeth, to lap at with her tongue until he shivered.

His broad forehead crinkled with the frown drawing his dark brows together over his sensuously lit blue eyes. She’d called them bedroom eyes when she’d first glimpsed them, but they were so much more. They pushed past every barrier she erected, dodging her defenses or simply dismissing them. She wanted to drown in those eyes, sink into the sea of sumptuous pleasure they promised.

Swallowing past the lump filling her throat, she whispered, “You.”

The admission cost her, it took every ounce of her strength to shape the word, nails digging into her palms as the quivers in her belly continued to ripple outwards, gaining in strength. The riptide of sensation jerked her under and she didn’t want to fight it anymore.

“It would be my pleasure,” he murmured. His mouth slanted over hers and robbed her of the need to say anything else. The world tilted and she surged forward, wrapping her arms and hopes around him, a tempest exploding within her as he lifted her out of the chair and into his lap.

Damon stroked his thumbs down her cheeks, urging her mouth to open wider for him. The silken heat of her bottom pressed against his raging hard on. He deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against the rough ridges of flesh behind her teeth and then up to tangle with hers. It was an altogether satisfying kiss, but he wanted more.

Her greedy little fingers fisted on his shirt. He nuzzled a trail of kisses from the corner of her mouth to taste the salty tears that continued to slip from her eyes. Raising his head, he waited for her lashes to flutter open, for the glistening warmth of her autumn brown eyes. Darker than wine, her pupils dilated as though the black sought to swallow up every last drop of light.

“When we built
Lagniappe’s
, we added six apartments upstairs.” He caressed one hand along the column of her throat to the silk of the gray blouse, smoothing the fabric over her shoulder until he reached the bare, warm flesh of her bicep. He wanted to touch every inch of her smooth skin.

She rolled her hips, her tight, round bottom rubbing the length of his erection, shredding his barely contained control.

Apprehension tensed her sweet, soft lips. He braced himself for her objections, her rejection. If she would spend the rest of her night sitting in his lap, he could get drunk off her hot, wet kisses and he would find a way to handle it.

“I’m not very good at it.”

The confession reined in his raging libido and he tipped her chin up. Hints of shame clouded her damp, desire-filled eyes. Tears trembled on her lashes. Her chest rose and fell matching the ragged pant of her breaths.

“Not very good at what, sweetheart?” Because she was one hell of a responsive kisser, meeting him thrust for thrust, coaxing a wild heat in him that he was having a damn hard time keeping banked to even have the conversation. If not for the whisper of bodies beyond the privacy curtain, he’d lay her out on the table in front of him, peel up her skirt and feast on the sweet delicacy of her sex until he’d satisfied his craving to know every sound she could make.

His cock twitched, thoroughly encouraged by that game plan.

“Sex.” The corner of her mouth turned down and her lashes dipped, hiding her eyes. “I tried it a few times in college.”

He would not laugh, but the noise still escaped as a small snort. “Let me guess, fifteen minutes of fumbling in the dark, a few thrusts and he was done?”

God save him from frat boys more interested in firing the gun, than how to prime and prepare the field of engagement.

“More or less. It was awkward and it hurt and then it just…I really didn’t get the fuss.” She shifted, the awkward shyness bubbling up under the professional and extremely sexy woman. He dropped his hands to her hips, holding her still before he fired off a warning shot of his own.

“Sweetheart, I promise you extremely unpleasant college sex is the last thing I have in mind.”

Red suffused her skin and her teeth grazed her lower lip. The absolute uncertainty was adorable and irritating in the same breath. “I thought you were asking me upstairs to….”

“Oh, I am definitely inviting you upstairs, and I plan to strip off every stitch of your clothing, lay you down on a bed, and explore every glorious inch of your flesh.” He kept his gaze firmly on hers, rubbing her hips gently, a roaming caress that grazed up the side of her torso, then over her belly and down again to the thigh shrouded by her smart little skirt.

She really was wearing far too much clothing.

“The problem with college boys is they are too quick to shove their dick into any warm, wet orifice and forget that just because they’re ready, their partner may not be.”

The blush scalded her cheeks, but her lashes lifted, the provocative woman fighting to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to be a disappointment…you’ve been amazing all evening…and I would hate to….”

He swallowed the rest of her words with a kiss. Bracing an arm beneath her, he pushed up from the chair and lifted her against him. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her chest plastered to his. He smiled, murmuring. “Yes or no, sweetheart. Then leave everything to me….”

“Yes.” The word slid around his tongue as she dove back into the kiss. He barely managed to grab her purse strap with one hand before carrying her toward the red wall and nudging the latch that released the privacy door. He carried her down the quiet hallway and up the stairs to the private apartment. Behind him the door swished shut and locked. The door hidden by the paint job was a finishing touch he’d added when he realized how late or early he would want to be in the restaurant.

On the first landing, he gave her bottom a gentle tap. “Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart.”

As she struggled to comply, he gave her skirt a little shove, freeing her legs. Her thighs tightened on his hips, and her ankles hooked over each other behind him, the tip of one heel tapping his thigh. The furnace of her sex pressed against his throbbing erection.

He pressed the key code for the electronic lock and released the door. Once inside, he dropped her purse nearby, but snagged the white silk scarf from the top. Then he strode through the darkened apartment, torturing himself by grinding against her heat with every step.

In the bedroom, he kicked the door shut and went to his knees at the bed as he sat her down, claiming her with another kiss. Her thighs spasmed, rocking her hips toward his invitingly.

He nibbled a path of kisses to her ear. “Do you have any attachment to this blouse?”

“No,” she breathed. “I got it on sale at….”

He stopped listening at the no and gripped the lapels, ripping it open and sending the buttons bouncing across the wooden floors. Beneath the top, her breasts peeked at him from beneath cream-colored demi cups. Sweet, small and barely a palm full, he rubbed both of his hands over them.

The twin hard points of her nipples pressed against the scrap of cloth, but he continued the slow strokes, caressing her chest. He followed the dip into the valley between her breasts and along the edges of the bra until he rolled a slow, whorl around the stiffened flesh. His gaze never left her face and he smiled at her gasp of wonder.

“Sex is a lot like cooking.” He rubbed one point between his thumb and forefinger. “You have to be patient. Some dishes are flash fried, hot and tempting, but others need loving care, spice rubs for example, need to be thoroughly massaged, ensuring a full flavor is absorbed by every ounce and then you lay it over the heat, and you cook it slowly until the juices flow….”

He leaned in, tugging one cup down and capturing the pebbled nipple, a whisper of pressure before teasing it with gentle laps. She fisted his hair, but he ignored the demand, taking his time to thoroughly sample the nipple, drawing it between his teeth until he could suck it properly. Her legs clenched against his hips. He traced a path with a single finger to the other cup and lavished the that nipple with the same treatment.

His cock ached with the urge to be free of its confinement, but he fought the need to rip off her panties and drive himself home. She wasn’t ready, no matter how responsive her gasps and clenching fingers suggested. He pushed the blouse off her shoulders, and she let him go long enough to help him strip off the cloth in his way. Her bra followed and he paused to look at her.

Her breasts were pink and warm with the blush that crept from her face to stain the skin. She was slender, almost too slender. God he wanted to feed her until she filled out the promise of curves everywhere, but she was so perfect, with her pert, upturned breasts and rosy nipples straining toward him.

Roaming his hand over her abdomen, he smiled at the trembling muscles that flexed beneath his touch. Her skirt boasted a three-inch zipper over one hip. He tugged it down and gave her a gentle nudge, urging her to lay back. Peeling the skirt down, he eyed the lace shrouding her sex. She started to shake off a shoe and he caught the heel and pressed it back into place, meeting her gaze along the long line of her body.

“The shoes stay.”

Her eyebrows lifted. He grinned and slid a finger under the edge of the lace to explore the dampness teasing his nostrils. The rich musk of her was a far more inviting aphrodisiac than the meal they’d shared earlier. Her thighs clamped on his hand, shoving him between the slick folds of her sex.

Working carefully up and down, he found her swollen clit and teased the treasured little nub with a gentle roll and laughed softly as her hips arched upward. Her eyes closed and her thighs spasmed on his wrist.

Another stroke of his finger and her body convulsed. Petting her through the orgasm, he could barely suppress a groan. If she could come apart with so little coaxing, what would she do when he went down on her?

Helena lost the capacity to think. Words fell away, unspoken, and all she felt seemed to center below her navel, a sweet suffocation of need stirring like a beast to storm through her body. Tingles turned to fireworks and she writhed against his hand, urging him closer and aching for more even as her body twisted with the tumult.

When he slid a finger inside of her, the muscles of her sex clenched against it and she wanted even more. Searing need speared her belly and she grabbed for the comforter, holding on lest she fly off into the ether. Desire tore apart her insides, shattering her completely.

“Let go, sweetheart,” his words washed over her and another touch against her clit and she was lost.

Drifting back to herself, she felt rather than saw him move. Her panties glided down her legs, but he left her shoes in place. A silly little giggle bubbled out of her. Naughtiness threaded through her blood, and she pushed herself up on her elbows to watch as he shed his clothes. Jacket, shirt, and pants hit the chair she’d failed to notice in the corner. His cock curved up to his belly, the dark olive skin stretching and nearly reddened at the thick tip.

Her mouth watered as she took in the tight muscles of his thigh, the chiseled six pack of his abdomen and up to the broad plains of his chest with the sexy little curls of dark hair that beckoned her fingers to run through them, caressing the hard muscle. Nothing spare hung on him, he’d been carved like a Greek statue, but so much better.

Because he was all male, hard and hot.

Need bloomed in her belly, and she arched to meet his glide onto the bed, mouth open for another tongue-tying kiss. His hands were everywhere, caressing her, cradling her and teasing until she thought she’d come apart again. Acting on impulse, she mirrored his touches. She stroked her hands down his chest, exploring the flat nipples, delighting at their stiffening.

The heat of his cock rubbed against her thigh. He pulled away, and she watched in drowsy pleasure as he pulled out a condom. He rolled the latex into place and her mouth went dry. He was magnificently shaped and so huge. Trepidation weaved through her excitement.

“I don’t know if you’ll fit.” Her heart thudded and she stifled another wave of nervous laughter at his unabashed grin.

He rolled over her, the hair on his chest teasing her nipples. He settled his raging erection against the nest of her sex. “Do you remember what I said downstairs?”

“Which part?” She fought the urge to lift her hips, the weight of him rubbed slowly against her, teasing her over sensitized clit until eddies of want drowned out the nervous thoughts bubbling to the surface.

“We don’t talk badly about women. You are perfect. Perfect mouth.” He kissed her, thrusting into her soul with his tongue as though to demonstrate. “Perfect breasts.” His hand cupped her breast, massaging the nipple for emphasis. “And a perfect, responsive, hot, pussy.”

He shifted the head of his cock, brushing her entrance and then he was pushing, in a long, slow stroke. He eased through the last of her defenses, stretching her sex until she thought she couldn’t take any more and then he pushed deeper. His jaw tightened, a vein throbbing in his forehead as breath whistled through his teeth.

“So tight,” he murmured before claiming her lips again, then his hips jerked forward and he was deeply seated inside of her. Her legs lifted of their own accord, and she wrapped them around his hips, allowing him greater access as he pulled back and thrust again.

The world narrowed to the motion of his cock and the tension of his mouth as the kisses took on a harder demand. He sucked her tongue and pursued it back into her mouth. The assault on her senses blotted out the world. She fought to hold onto some sense of herself. It was all skin sliding on skin, ripples of pleasure cascading from every point of contact and with every thrust, he grazed along her clit until the orgasm stormed through her and she could only dig her nails into his shoulders and hang on.