Dylan (20 page)

“A man can only stand so much torture, DelVecchio.” He toed off his boots, pulled off his socks, and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, yanking it over his head. The shirt landed on the floor behind him.

Ronnie's heart moved back down out of her throat. The man might have taken her by surprise, but he was a welcome intrusion and a magnificent sight. His pectorals glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, adding a magical dimension to the shamrock tattooed over his heart. With each breath he took, his broad chest expanded, emphasizing each and every sinew beneath the surface of his sun-bronzed skin. The need to touch tingled the tips of her fingers. She licked her lips and he narrowed his gaze.

“There's no turning back,” he warned. “I've wanted you from the first night I saw you.”

She wanted to tell him that it was up to her to choose her lover, but he'd unzipped his jeans and was in the process of shimmying out of them. Inch by delicious inch, his glorious body was revealed to her.

“You're not wearing any underwear.”

His mouth lifted in what might have been a smile, but his raging erection distracted her.

The moisture left her mouth, as her body reacted, pooling the essential fluids where she would receive each and every tantalizing inch of him.

Her nipples tightened as his eyes focused on her breasts. Stepping out of his jeans, he slid onto the bed until he was leaning over her on all fours. Her body went haywire, sparks of lust shooting from her fingers down to her center. She wasn't sure he'd fit, but she sure as hell wanted him to do his damndest to stretch her to the limit, as he tested his one hundred and eighty pounds of thrust against her one-hundred-thirty-five-pound frame.

“I want you so bad, I ache,” he admitted, pulling the sports bra up and over her head.

His eyes gleamed as he bent to take her breast in his mouth. He sucked her fully into his mouth and she shot straight to boil. She'd been primed and lubed, watching him strip; now she throbbed in time with his deep sucking motion.

The strangled sound had him releasing her breast and rearing back on to his heels. He yanked her pants and thong from her body in one swift movement that had her lifting her hips seeking more.

He shook his head and bent to take her other breast in his mouth. His lips and tongue tortured her, while his hands slid down her back to cup her backside, lifting her higher. She was powerless to move beneath the onslaught of his desire. She'd never been wanted like this.

He buried his face between her breasts for a second before his lips began a foray up the side of her neck.

She tilted her head to the side to give him better access. He groaned as he licked and nibbled a path back down her neck, between her breasts. When he flicked her left nipple with the tip of his tongue, she went blind with need. Switching to the other breast, he played her body like an instrument of pleasure. When his fingers slid down over her abdomen, he lifted his head and waited a heartbeat.

She opened herself to him, offering everything she had.

His hands and mouth worked in tandem, building the tension within her to the bursting point. Just when she was about to cry out to him to take her, he pulled back, covered his erection from tip to base with latex, and thrust into her. The sensual shock to her system had her locking her legs around his waist, allowing him to go deeper. Harder. Faster.

She counted the first few thrusts, amazed at the power and pleasure she received with each one, until he drove so deeply inside her, he touched her womb. Rocked to the core, Ronnie felt the echo of that touch in her heart, cracking the walls she'd erected around it in order to survive her ex's betrayal.

Dylan's passion was raw, his lovemaking elemental, demanding she respond in kind. Her mouth latched on to his neck; he thrust and she sucked, until the need to move closer to the edge caught ahold of her. She nipped his neck then arched back, forcing him deeper.

They drove one another higher, closer to the edge with lips, tongues, teeth, and hands. Dylan was afraid he'd come before she did and started reciting the names of his high school football teammates in his head. Her body was agile, strong, and sexy as hell. How was he going to keep from losing it? Her hands slid down his back to cup his butt cheeks. When she squeezed him hard and lifted her hips up, his eyes crossed. He held on to his control with everything he had; she was so close. He slipped his hand between their bodies; one touch had her sucking in a breath before she shot up and over the peak, breaking apart in his arms. He drove deep and followed.

“Mmmm. You taste better than I imagined.” Dylan dipped his head between her breasts and let his tongue ignite the embers of their passion still smoldering just beneath the surface.

“I can't possibly—”

Her protests were cut off by her strangled moan of pleasure. “Darlin', I'm counting on it.”

He shifted and switched it to overdrive, and she was the recipient of his deliciously muscled frame molding her body to his, drawing every last drop of pleasure from her sweat-slickened limbs.

“Come with me, darlin'.”

“Dylan, I just—” Her words slid back down her throat and a groan of pure pleasure slipped from between her lips.

Sated, satisfied, her muscles went lax. Her arms slid from around him; her legs quivered before releasing their ironclad grip around him. He rolled onto his side and she snuggled closer as the rhythmic beat of his heart and sound of his breathing lulled her to sleep, safe and warm in his arms.

“I was right.”

Ronnie shook the cobwebs from her head and opened one eye. “About?”

“You pack a lethal punch.”

She pushed against his shoulder until he rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Stacking her arms on his chest, she laid her chin on her hands and stared down at him. Lord, he was gorgeous. She hadn't wanted to take the chance, but now that she had, she may as well enjoy the benefits of her decision and enjoy what promised to be a wild ride.

“How'd you know?”

His crooked smile went right to the soft spot she'd developed where this one man was concerned. “Instinct.”

“Oh really?” She didn't believe him but went along with the game. “From the first time you saw me?”

The rumbling chuckle wasn't quite the response she'd been hoping for.

“A blonde, a brunette, and a redhead walk into a bar…”

She knew where this was going. “Yeah, yeah,” she chuckled. “Why do I feel like I've heard this one before?”

His chuckle deepened to a rolling laugh that soothed her irritation. “I could sell that blindfold and become a millionaire… I've never gotten so hard for a woman so fast.”

“I just might have to look into marketing one.”

“Come again?”

“It might take some time to convince my customers who normally purchase perfume and lingerie that they really need to add blindfolds for special occasions.”

He shook his head but didn't say anything. Maybe he didn't believe her. But she was already thinking she'd contact her supplier and see if he'd want to add it to his catalog. His gaze narrowed and he waited for her to fill in the blanks. When she continued to watch him without breaking eye contact, he raised his eyes heavenward. “Lord, save me from willful fillies.” He rolled them over until he was on top again.

“Do you have to keep grouping me with animals?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and tilted his head to one side. “A filly is a very special animal.”

“It's just a female horse,” she countered, irritation slowly beginning to build.

He shook his head and let his callused hand slide down to her backside, snuggling her female parts as close as they would go without being joined. “Not to a stallion,” he said, lifting his hips, rubbing his semi-hard erection against her. “An exceptionally fine filly will twitch her tail in front of a stallion, tempting him to match his strength to her fire. Catching her scent, he'll strut his stuff in front of her, ignoring her until she starts raising a ruckus, and that's when the fun begins.”

Ronnie could not believe that she was getting turned on listening to Dylan talk about the mating habits of horses. Was she insane? “Let me get this straight, we're talking about horses, right?”

His smile was seductively slow and full of promise, a definite turn on. Damn… she was going crazy.

“I pegged you for a smart city slicker from back East that night.” His gaze met hers. “Seems I was right about that too.”

When her mouth fell open but no words emerged, she knew she was in trouble… deep trouble.

He chuckled. “So tell me again, what else do you sell besides massage oil and perfume?”

“My online supplier has a catalog of specialty toys that some of my customers ask for, but I don't carry.”

“And you sell a lot of online merchandise?”

She grinned up at him. “You have no idea.”

“Women here in Pleasure buy your… uh… stock?”

She nodded, enjoying his discomfort, especially after likening her to a horse. “My online store does a brisk business and is actually the main source of income from the specialty side of Guilty Pleasures.”

He stared at her for the longest time then nodded with a wicked gleam in his eyes before pulling her breast into his mouth.

Her body trembled with want. Trying to keep up, she couldn't imagine the stamina required to go another round. As if he could read her mind, he grinned down at her. “Have you got any protection in that stash of yours?”

“You'd be surprised,” she rasped, as his delightfully taut butt muscles flexed and he brushed his erection against her heat.

His eyes turned that wonderful shade of molten chocolate a heartbeat before they glazed over. “Where?”

“Medicine cabinet in the bath—”

Dylan was out of bed and halfway down the hallway before she finished speaking, returning with a box of condoms clutched in his right hand. “Ribbed and lubricated—”

She got hot just listening to him reading the label on the box. “For her pleasure.”

His gaze met hers, snagging her full attention when he ripped the foil packet open with his teeth, knelt on the bed, and blew into the condom. Distracted, she asked, “Why do you do that?”

He smoothed the protection into place. “Saves time,” he said a heartbeat before he slid all the way home. Buried to the hilt, he slowly drew back out. “More time in the saddle.”

He thrust deep and slowly withdrew.

Words were beyond her as the tension began to build once more. Sparks ignited beneath her skin, igniting the conflagration she'd come to associate with the man in her arms, setting her free and letting her fly.

“Dylan!”

“Coming, darlin'.”

Dylan woke to the sweet sound of the woman he'd branded snoring… he held his breath to better hear the snuffling coming from where she'd planted her face in the pillow. The urge to shout out with joy washed over him, but he didn't want to wake her just yet. He wanted to savor the moment and the woman.

She was always moving—at a trot, if he was to compare it to how quickly a horse would move. Must be an eastern thing; out West people used an economy of motion: fast when necessary, but most times slow and steady to work dawn until dusk in order to get the job done.

He let his gaze slide down the slender cream-colored curves highlighted by the late afternoon sun. Ronnie moaned in her sleep and shifted onto her side, snuggling her curvy backside in his lap. The breath he'd just inhaled rushed out as his body went on full alert and he drew in more air. Parts of him woke before others, and he went from semiawake to “I'm ready for more, darlin'.”

Shock waves of pleasure washed over him as she shifted yet again, this time to her back, allowing him to look his fill. Her wavy black hair spread out over the white pillow only accentuated the beauty of her soft supple curves. The muscles of her upper body were toned and only added to the delightful sight of her creamy white breasts topped with rosy red nipples.

Like a kid in a candy store, he couldn't keep from reaching out to touch. Brushing the tips of his fingers across first one nipple and then the other, he was rewarded when they responded, tightening into firm buds, begging to be tasted.

Going with the flow, he shifted so he could lean down to sample the bounty before him. He blew across one rose-tinged peak then flicked out his tongue to dampen it. Marveling that the buds could become firmer, darker, he repeated the movement with her left breast. Giving in to desperate desire, he swirled his tongue over and around the areola, sucking her breast into his mouth.

She moaned, tossing her head from side to side on the pillow, but didn't waken. Her body warmed beneath his touch, flushing a delightful shade of pink on the parts he favored… the white parts. She'd obviously been in the sun and had worn a tiny excuse for a bathing suit, creating the intriguing triangles of creamy white outlining key points of interest to him. Not one to ignore a gift when it was being offered to him, Dylan straddled her and began to run his hands up and down her sides. The slender curves intrigued him, so he traced them again. Her satin smooth skin warmed to his touch. The swift rush of blood to his dick had him biting back against the need to simply take until he'd satisfied the lust burning a hole in his gut.

She had a mole beneath her right breast; he hadn't noticed it earlier. He took his time now, touching the dark brown spot with the tip of his finger; it wasn't as soft as the skin surrounding it. Indulging himself, he let his finger glide along the curve beneath her breast before switching to the other side.

Ronnie stirred beneath his touch and slowly opened her eyes. Bright spring green darkened to emerald as desire flared to life. Rock hard, he shifted so he was nestled at the apex of her thighs, ready for her to give him the signal.

She licked her lips and lifted her hips.

Signal enough, he reached for the condom he'd left on the bedside table, opened it, and sheathed himself while she watched. Her eyes spoke more eloquently than words. Grandpa always told him that you could read a person's thoughts by looking into their eyes.

“Hot damn!” Dylan tilted his head back and howled.

Ronnie giggled and grabbed ahold of his hips. “I bet you do that for all the girls.”

He shook his head and slipped inside of her, slow and smooth, watching her closely to gauge his movements to her responses. Hmmm… slow and smooth had her closing her eyes and lifting her hips languidly. He repeated the movement until she was putty in his hands.

The devil inside of him wanted to kick it up a notch; he pulled out slowly, then shifted and gripped her hips with both hands, lifting her up off the bed, burying himself to the hilt with one swift and determined thrust. Her eyes shot open and her nostrils flared a heartbeat before she lifted him up and off the bed with the power of her amazingly muscled glutes.

“Darlin' you're killing me.”

She tilted her head back and let out a low guttural sound that had him answering in kind. He growled and her eyes glazed over. He dove deep and felt his eyes cross and his head spin. His brain shut down as his body flipped an internal switch to instinct. His muscles heated to the task as he thrust into her again and again, demanding she meet him and give him equal measure.

***

Ronnie had never been with such a demanding lover. Her head tried to keep up, until the primal being inside of her took control and met him thrust for thrust, the power of her muscles heating her blood as it sang through her veins.

The beat of her heart urged the being she'd become to sup, to take, to devour. Pushing against his shoulder, she urged him onto his back and rode him as if he really was a stallion. Thighs tightening around him when she wanted him to thrust harder, loosening when she wanted him to slow down. He responded to her every touch.

Tilting back, she angled her hips and opened more fully to receive him, but it wasn't enough. She wanted more… needed more. Leaning her forehead against his, she rasped, “I need to feel you deeper.”

Dylan's jaw clenched, but he eased her off of him and spun her around, so she was on her hands and knees on the bed. Pressing on her shoulders, he eased her down until she was leaning on her forearms, until she felt exposed, vulnerable. “If deep is where you want me,” he drawled, “then trust me, darlin', you're gonna feel me touch your heart.”

When he thrust into her tight sheath, her inner muscles clenched and relaxed as her body wept with joy and accommodated every single inch of him, deeper than she had before. His grip on her hips tightened and her last thought as he drove into her again and again was that she'd never trusted anyone the way she trusted him with her body. The reward was a blinding orgasm.

She had no bones; they'd disintegrated as she'd shattered. She slumped forward. Dylan placed his callused palm against her heart, then shifted it to span the distance between her breasts, holding her up off the mattress. The angle rubbed her hidden nub of pleasure against the throbbing vein running along the length of him. She didn't think she had anything left to give him. She was wrong. Her passage wept again as he wrung out every last drop of moisture in her body as she rocketed to the stars.

Dylan held on to Ronnie as the feeling started sprinting through him. His brain shut off and his body took over as he drove into her again and again, mindless to everything except giving and taking pleasure from the woman in his arms. When she clenched tightly around him, he let go of his control and followed her into the madness.

She whimpered as he eased himself free.

“Oh God, darlin'.” His hands were gentle as he laid her on the bed. “Did I hurt you?”

She licked her lips and tried to shake her head, but she didn't have anything left in her. Besides, she thought, she didn't have any bones to support her muscles.

“Damn it, woman, tell me where it hurts.”

The concern in his eyes wrapped around her heart and added another dimension to their lovemaking. Added to the heat and lust that grabbed her by the throat, was the knowledge that she'd trusted him to take her around the world and make love to her from every position possible.

DelVecchio Curse be damned. Dylan was the kind of lover women dreamed about, wrote novels about, and used as a measure to uphold each and every other lover in their lives against. If she lived to be one hundred, she'd never meet anyone like him again. That he could be tender with her, concerned that he'd hurt her, after shattering her world with the longest orgasm of her life, was proof positive that he was a keeper. She'd worry about the possibility of twins later.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms. “I'm sorry, darlin', please,” he begged. “Tell me so I can fix it.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, she laughed, a joyous, bubbly sound that came straight from her heart. He eased his hold on her so he could frown down at her. She laughed harder. His frown turned upside down and soon he was laughing with her, hugging her to his heart.

“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled. “You scared the bejeezus out of me!”

Her bones magically knitted themselves back together, and she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him with all of the passion in her soul and love in her heart. “I couldn't move my arms or feel my legs.”

He kissed her forehead and eased them down on the bed, wrapped in one another's arms. “I think I hit six with that last one.”

“Six what?”

“Darlin',” he drawled, “if you have to ask, then I'm not doing it right.” He brushed his lips across hers and chuckled. “You're supposed to say thank you.”

“If you were trying to impress me, you more than met the mark.”

He looked at her but didn't say anything.

Finally she couldn't take the silence anymore. “What's wrong?”

He shook his head. “I was just thinking.”

“About…” She gave him the lead in, but he didn't take her up on it and tell her what was bothering him. She tried to hide her irritation. “Cat got your tongue?”

He laughed. “Did I mention how much I enjoy your fractiousness?”

“Yeah, now how about telling me what's on your mind?”

Dylan sighed, as if the weight of the world was sitting on his broad shoulders. “Must be because you're not from around here,” he observed. “Otherwise, you'd know exactly what's on my mind. Are men that different back East?”

She bit her lip and thought it over. Her ex certainly was, but if she looked hard enough, she'd be willing to bet that there would be a man out West despicable enough to match her ex's betrayal. Just as she came to that conclusion, she realized he didn't really want to know the answer to his question—he was just being a wiseass!

She looked at her bare wrist. “Look at the time. Gotta go.”

He reached out and placed his hand on her arm. She wanted to yank her arm from his grasp, but dug deep to control her rising temper and was rewarded when he rumbled, “Darlin', you blew me away.”

Not exactly the poetry she'd hoped for. Good thing she didn't expect flowery phrases or words of undying devotion… at least, not yet. She smiled and snuggled back against him. “So, how about you tell me more?”

His smile was slow, sensual, and got her juices flowing again. Had one afternoon of amazing sex-capades turned her into a nymphomaniac?

“I'm a man of action,” he said, lowering his mouth until it was but a breath from hers, “not words.”

His lips tantalized, promised, then fulfilled as they took command and devoured her.

***

The sun was hanging lower in the sky when she forced herself to put a little distance between them. “I do have work to do, you know.”

His eyes mesmerized her; their rich dark brown reminded her of her favorite flavor of chocolate: semisweet. The emotions flickering in their velvety depths amazed her. Although cool and aloof on the outside, the man was a boiling pot of emotions beneath the surface that she'd just barely scratched.

Would he want to let her in? Time would tell. Maybe she should say something that would urge him to tell her how he felt. Oh, Ronnie knew she'd satisfied his hunger for her. Heck, he'd done the same and they'd dozed off in one another's arms more than once since he'd flipped her over his shoulder and carried her up the stairs.

“Well, I'm a woman… we like to use words.”

He snorted.

She scooted up against the headboard and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Being a man of action, I'm sure that snort has a translation.”

His mouth quirked up on one side, still he said nothing.

She leaned over and poked him in the shoulder with her pointer finger.

The rusty, rumbling sound of his laughter was music to her ears. She'd loved that he'd laughed while they'd been making love. How they'd managed to cut through the first few layers of brand new relationship and settle themselves smack into what she'd say would be halfway through the first month, she had no idea. Maybe it was the way they'd met and the tension that spiked whenever the two of them were in the same room. He enjoyed what drove most men away after they got to know her: her temper and her quirky personality.

She glared at him and he laughed harder. Would this man always keep her slightly off-kilter? Finding out just might take the rest of her life and be worth every moment of the journey. Her heart jolted at the thought. She could just imagine the soft sound of her grandmother's laughter.

Finally, he spoke. “Women like to use twenty words when one will do.”

“One?”

He nodded. “Words aren't often necessary.”

“They are to a woman.”

He reached for her hand and captured her attention as he slowly brought it to his lips without breaking eye contact. “Are they for you?”

She could feel the warmth of his lips where they hovered about her knuckles. The skin tingled, still he waited.

“Ronnie, darlin'.”

She swallowed the pool of saliva in her mouth and asked, “What?”

He chuckled softly and pressed his mouth to the back of her hand, the rasp of his whiskers adding another dimension to the press of his lips and the warmth of his mouth. Her stomach clenched and an answering gathering of moisture in her center had her deciding he was the only man for her.

But his talent between the sheets wouldn't keep their relationship going for the long haul. They had to be compatible on other levels as well. She liked what she'd learned so far: he was considerate, had an affinity for one-word sentences, worked until he dropped, loved his brothers and their ranch.