Lover Revealed (32 page)

"Baby, I should stop." Because in another minute he was going to have her under him with that dress yanked up around her hips.

"No." She slipped her hands under his jacket and slid it off of him. "Not yet."

"Marissa, I'm getting raw here. Fast. And you don't feel well—"

"Kiss me." She dug her nails into his shoulders, the sting cutting through his fine shirt in a series of delicious little flares.

He growled and took her mouth a hell of lot less gently.

Again, bad idea. The harder he kissed her, the harder she kissed back until their tongues were dueling and every muscle in him was twitching to mount her.

"I have to touch you," he groaned, shifting his whole body up on the bed and swinging his leg over hers. He palmed her hip and squeezed, then moved his hand up onto her rib cage just below the swell of her breast.

Shit. He was so on the ledge right now.

"Do it," she said into his mouth. "Touch me."

As her back arched, he took what she offered, capturing her breast, stroking it through the silk bodice of the gown. With a gasp, she put her hand over his, holding him tighter to her.

"Butch…"

"Oh, shit, let me see you, baby. Can I see you?" Before she could respond, he captured her mouth, but the way she met his tongue gave him his answer. He sat her up and started in on the buttons down the back of her gown. His hands were clumsy, but by some miracle the satin parted.

Except there were so many other layers to get through. Goddamn it, her skin… he had to get to her skin.

Impatient, aroused, fixated, he stripped the front of the gown off her, then pushed the straps of her slip down so that the pale silk pooled at her waist. The white corset that was revealed was an erotic surprise and he ran his hands all over it, feeling the structure of its bones and the warmth of her body underneath. But then he couldn't stand it any longer and all but tore the thing from her.

As her breasts were freed, her head fell back, the long, elegant lines of her neck and shoulders stretching out for him. Eyes on her face, Butch bent down to her and took one of her nipples with his mouth, suckling. Sweet heaven, he was going to come, she was so good. He was panting like a dog, already deranged from the sex, and they were nowhere near naked.

But she was right there with him, straining, hot, needy, her legs scissoring under her skirts. Man, this whole situation was spiraling out of control, a combustion engine turning over faster and faster with every second. And he was powerless to stop.

"Can I take this off you?" Shit, his voice was totally gone. "This gown… the whole thing?"

"Yes…" The word was a groan, a frantic groan.

Unfortunately, the dress was a project and damn it, he didn't have the patience to keep working all those buttons in the back of it. He ended up bunching the floor-length skirt at her hips and drawing a pair of whisper-thin white panties down her long, smooth legs. Then he ran his hands up the in-sides of her thighs, parting them.

As she tensed up, he stopped. "If you want me to back off, I will. In a heartbeat. But I just want to touch you again. And maybe… look at you." When she frowned, he started to pull down the dress. "It's okay—"

"I'm not saying no. It's just… oh, God… what if I'm unattractive there?"

Jesus, he could not comprehend why she'd ever worry about that. "Not possible. I already know you how perfect you are. I've felt you, remember?"

She took a deep breath.

"Marissa, I loved the feel of you. I really did. And I have a beautiful picture of you in my mind. I just want to know the reality."

After a moment, she nodded. "All right… go ahead."

Keeping their gazes locked, he swept his hand between her thighs and then… oh, yeah, that soft, secret place of hers. So slick and hot he swayed and dropped his mouth to her ear.

"You're so beautiful here." Her hips surged as he stroked her, his fingers light and slippery from her honey. "Mmm, yeah… I want to be inside of you. I want to put my"—the word
cock
was definitely too coarse, but that's what he was thinking—"myself in you, baby. Right here. I want to be surrounded by all this, held in you tight. So you believe me when I say you're beautiful? Marissa? Tell me what I want to hear."

"Yes…" As he rubbed a little deeper, she shivered. "God… yes."

"You want me to come inside of you someday?"

"Yes…"

"You want me to fill you up?"

"Yes…"

"Good, because that's what I want." He nipped at her ear-lobe. "I want to lose it deep in you and have you fist me as you come, too. Mmm… rub yourself against my hand, let me feel you move for me. Oh, shit… that's nice. That's… work your core for me… oh,
yeah
.. ."

Shit, he had to stop talking. Because if she took direction any better he was going to explode.

Oh, screw it. "Marissa, spread your legs farther apart for me. Spread them wide. And don't stop what you're doing."

As she complied, he slowly, discreetly, shifted back and looked down her body. On the other side of yards of twisted, teal blue satin, her creamy thighs were split open, his hand disappearing between them, her hips rolling in a rhythm that made his cock pop in his pants.

Latching on to the closest breast, he gently smoothed one of her legs even wider. Then he moved all that skirting to the side, lifted his head and removed his hand. Down the flat plane of her stomach, past the dimple of her belly button, over the perfectly pale skin of her pelvic cradle, he saw the graceful little slit of her sex.

His whole body trembled. "So perfect," he whispered. "So… exquisite."

Enthralled, he moved down the bed and filled himself with the sight of her. Pink, glistening, delicate. And he was catching a contact high from her scent, his brain shorting out in a flickering series of sparks. "Oh… Jesus…"

"What's wrong?" Her knees snapped together.

"Not a thing." He pressed his lips to the top of her thigh and stroked her legs, trying to part them gently. "Never seen anything so beautiful."

Hell,
beautiful
didn't even cut it and he licked his mouth, his tongue desperate for so much more of that action. In an absent voice, he said, "God, baby, I want to go down on you so badly right now."

"Go down?"

He flushed at her confusion. "I… ah, I want to kiss you."

She smiled and sat up, taking his face between her hands. But when she tried to draw him to her, he shook his head.

"Not on your mouth this time." As she frowned, he eased his hand back between her thighs. "Here."

Her eyes flared so wide he wanted to curse.
Way to make her feel relaxed, O'Neal
.

"Why…" She cleared her throat. "Why would you want to do that?"

Good Lord, hadn't she ever heard of… well, of course not. Aristocrats probably had very polite, very missionary sex, and if they even knew about the oral stuff, they certainly would
never
tell their daughters about it. No wonder she was shocked.

"Why, Butch?"

"Ah… because if I do it right, you'll really enjoy it. And… yeah, so will I."

He glanced down her body. Oh, God, would he enjoy it. Going down on a woman had never been something he'd
had
to do before. With her? He needed it. He craved it. When he thought about making love to her with his mouth, every square inch of him got hard.

"I just want to taste you so damned much."

Her thighs relaxed a little. "Go… slowly?"

Holy shit, she was going to let him? He started to tremble. "I will, baby. And I'm going to make you feel good. I promise."

He shifted farther down the mattress, staying to the side of her so she didn't feel crowded. As he got closer to her core, his body whacked out on him even more and the small of his back got tight, just like it did right before he had an orgasm.

Man, he was so going to have to go slow. For the both of them.

"I love your scent, Marissa." He kissed her belly button, then her hip, going downward inch by creamy inch. Lower… lower… until he finally pressed his closed mouth to the top of her cleft.

Which was great for him. The problem was she went totally rigid. And jumped as he laid his hand on her outer thigh.

He moved back up a little and rubbed his lips back and forth on her stomach. "I'm so lucky."

"W-why?"

"How would you feel if someone trusted you like this? Trusted you with such a private thing?" He blew into her belly button, and she laughed a little as if the warm air tickled. "You honor me, you know that? You really do."

He soothed her out with words and leisurely kisses that lingered a little longer and went a little lower each time. When she was ready, he swept his hand down the inside of her leg, clasped the back of her knee and gently separated her just a couple of inches for himself. He kissed her slit softly, again and again. Until the tension eased out of her.

Then he lowered his chin, opened his mouth, and licked her. She gasped and sat up.

"Butch… ?" As if she were checking to make sure he knew what he'd done.

"Didn't I tell you?" He bent down and lightly traced up her pink flesh with his tongue. "This is all about French kissing, baby."

As he repeated the slow sweeps, her head fell back, and the tips of her breasts rose as her spine curled. Perfect. Just where he wanted her to be. Not worried about modesty or anything like that, just enjoying the feel of someone loving her like she deserved.

With a smile, he kept going, gradually dragging deeper and deeper until he got a real honest-to-God taste of her.

His eyes rolled back in his head as he swallowed. She was like nothing he'd ever pulled down his throat. The ocean and ripe melon and honey all together, a cocktail that made him want to weep from the perfection of it. More… he needed more. But goddamn, he had to put a choke hold on himself before he could keep going. He wanted to feast on her, and she wasn't ready for that kind of gluttony.

As he took a little breather, she tilted her head up. "Is it over?"

"Not by a long shot." Man, he loved that glassy, sexed-up look in her eyes. "Why don't you lie back and let me do my thing. We're just getting started here."

As she relaxed a little, he looked down at her secrets, seeing the high gloss on the tender flesh, thinking there was going to be a whole more of that shine when he was through. He kissed her again, then lollipopped her, flattening his tongue out and trolling up nice and lazylike. Then he swept his mouth from side to side, nuzzling in farther, hearing her moan. With gentle pressure, he opened her thighs more and latched on to her, drawing on her core in a rhythmic sucking.

When she started to thrash, a buzzing lit off in his head, the shrill warning a Danger, Will Robinson from the civilized part of him that things were about to go meteoric. But he couldn't quit, especially as she grabbed onto the sheets and arched up like she was going to come at any second.

"Feel good?" He tickled the top of her cleft, flicking over the most sensitive part. "You like this? You like me tonguing you? Or maybe you like this…" He sucked her into his mouth and she cried out. "Oh, yeah… God, my lips are covered with you… feel them, feel me…"

He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, moving her fingers back and forth, then licking them clean. She watched him with wide eyes, panting, nipples tight. He was pushing her hard and he knew it, but she was right there with him.

He bit her palm. "Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me."

"I…" Her body undulated on the bed.

"
Tell me you want me
." He nailed her harder with his teeth. Shit, he wasn't sure why he needed to hear it from her so badly, but he did. "
Say it
."

"I want you," she gasped.

From out of nowhere, a dangerous, greedy lust slapped hold of him and his control shattered. With a dark sound that came from his gut, he clamped his hands on the insides of her thighs, split her wide and literally dove between her legs. As he fell upon her flesh, penetrating her with his tongue, finding a rhythm with his jaw, he was dimly aware of some kind of noise in the room, a growling.

Him? Couldn't be. That was the sound of… an animal.

Marissa had been shocked by the act at first. The carnality of it. The sinful closeness, the scary vulnerability. But soon none of that mattered. Butch's warm tongue was so erotic she could hardly bear the slick, slippery sensation of it—and couldn't stand the idea that he'd ever stop what he was doing, either. Then he started sucking on her, sucking and swallowing and saying things that made her sex swell until the pleasure stung like pain.

But all that was nothing compared to when he let loose. With a surge of male need, his heavy hands held her down, his mouth, his tongue, his face going all over her… God, that sound coming out of him, that throaty, pumping purr…

She orgasmed wildly, the most shattering, beautiful thing she'd ever felt, her body arching into the liquid flashes of pleasure—

Except at the crest, the seething energy shifted, transformed, detonated.

Bloodlust roared along the sexual current between them, then pulled her down into a spiral of starvation. Hunger ripped through her civilized nature, shredding everything but the need to go for his neck, and she bared her fangs, ready to flip him over onto his back and strike at his jugular and drink hard—

She was going to kill him.

She cried out and struggled against his hold. "Oh, God…
no
!"

"What?"

Shoving at Butch's shoulders, she hauled her body away from him, shooting off the side of the bed and falling to the floor. As he reached for her in confusion, she scrambled across the rug to the far corner, her dress dragging behind, the top hanging from her waist. When there was no farther to go, she curled into a ball and held herself in place. As her body shook uncontrollably, the pain in her belly hit in waves, redoubling each time it returned.

Butch came after her, panicked. "
Marissa
… ?"

"No!"

He hauled up short. His face was stricken, all the color run out of his skin. "I'm so sorry—dear God—"