Wicked Sexy (Wicked Games Series Book 2) (23 page)

“Shall I put the bottle on ice?” she asks Connor.

He doesn’t answer. He’s staring so hard at me, it’s like she doesn’t even exist. He hasn’t once shifted his gaze away from my face.

“Um, I’ll just go ahead and do that, then.” The waitress discreetly removes herself.

Connor extends his hand across the table, palm up. I hesitate but then reach out and rest my hand in his. His warm fingers curve around mine. He gently squeezes.

“Do you have any idea,” he says softly, “what that means to me?”

With my free hand, I cover my face. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything.”

He squeezes a little harder. “I know the word you’re looking for, in case you’re interested.”

“No. I’m not. Please stop talking now.”

He strokes his thumb back and forth across my knuckles. “I’ll stop talking on one condition.”

I peek at him between my fingers.

He says in voice thick with emotion, “Come sit next to me, princess.”

“Are you going to keep your hands to yourself?”

He says instantly, “No,” and I can’t help but laugh.

“Well, all right, then. Move over.”

I stand. Mercifully, the ground feels solid under my feet. Connor slides over in the booth and reaches out. I take his hand, slide in next to him, and he immediately engulfs me in a giant bear hug. He buries his face in my neck.

“Goddamn you,” he whispers.

“I know,” I whisper back, my eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry.”

We stay like that with our arms wrapped around each other, just breathing, for what seems like a long time. When the waitress returns with the champagne in an ice bucket, we reluctantly break apart. She makes an apologetic noise and quickly leaves.

I weakly laugh. “It’s like we have a bet on how many poor waitstaff we can embarrass across the continental United States.”

Connor slides a hand under my hair, wraps it around the back of my neck, and settles it there. He picks up one of the flutes of champagne and presents it to me. “Here. This will make you feel better.”

I take it, hold it under my nose, and sniff. I get a fragrant whiff of fruit and flowers, along with a little zing of effervescence. “It smells good.”

“Wait until you’ve got it on your tongue.”

Our eyes meet. I know I’m not the only one who found that offhand comment enticingly sexual. Holding his gaze, I take a sip…

And groan in pleasure. “Seriously? That’s like drinking happiness!”

Connor smiles. “You like?”

“Wait, let me be sure.” I take another sip, and then an even bigger swallow. I nod enthusiastically. “Yep. It’s official. This stuff is great.”

“Well, at a thousand bucks a glass it should be.”

I freeze, horrified, and stare at him with my mouth open.

He’s unmoved by my shock. “It’s been a strange day, princess. You deserve a treat. Drink up.”

His cell rings. He fishes it from his pocket, answers it with a gruff, “Talk to me,” listens for a while, and then grunts. “Roger that.” He disconnects the call and looks at me. “That was Ryan. O’Doul and the agency have put together a local team in Miami to get Søren. Go time is zero six-hundred hours tomorrow.”

I check Ms. Kitty on my wrist. It’s eight minutes to seven p.m. on the west coast, which makes it almost ten p.m. in Miami.

In eight hours, the FBI will raid Søren’s hideout. With any luck, in eight hours Søren will be in the custody of the United States government. In eight hours, I’ll be able to breathe again.

Connor and I stare at each other. I feel every single throbbing beat of my heart.

“So what’re we going to do for the next eight hours, jarhead?”

Connor downs his glass of champagne in one gulp. He looks at me, licks his lips, and growls, “Everything.”

Then his mouth is against mine.

Even if I wanted to protest, I couldn’t, because the man tastes better than a thousand-dollar glass of champagne.

“
I
can’t drive
with you doing that, princess,” Connor says, breathing raggedly, his hand fisted in my hair.

His hard cock is in my mouth.

I’ve just unzipped his pants and gorged myself on it, because I couldn’t stand one more second of rubbing the pulsing length of it through the fabric as Connor tried to kiss me and concentrate on the road at the same time.

“Then pull over,” I mutter, and take him all the way to the base. I fondle the heavy, velvet warmth of his balls, and he sucks in a breath.

The Hummer zigzags. A horn sounds. Someone yells a curse.

I slowly draw up, savoring him like a lollipop, my other hand curled around his girth, stroking my thumb up and down the thick vein on the underside of his erection. I slide my tongue over the slit in the head. Connor moans softly. His big hand spreads out to cradle my skull as he flexes his pelvis, wanting more.

“You like my mouth,” I whisper, feeling powerful.

“Princess,” he pants, driving so erratically, the car is swerving all over the place, “I
love
your mouth.”

I falter for a second.
There’s that word again.
But it only gives me a moment’s pause before I go back to worshipping his cock.

When I fumble with my zipper and slide my hand into my pants so I can stroke myself while I suck on him, Connor almost drives off the road.

“Fuck,” he says between gritted teeth, straightening the wheel. The car slows down and turns. My fingers are already slick with my own wetness. I rub my clit, making circles in tandem with the circles I’m making with my tongue. It feels so good, I moan and rock against my hand.

After a few more turns, the truck slows to a stop. Connor turns off the engine, pulls my head up with both hands, and kisses me so hard, it takes my breath away.

When he breaks the kiss, he demands, “You want my cock or my mouth first?

“Decisions, decisions.” I slowly stroke my hand up and down. “Are we back at the hotel already?”

“Yes. Answer the damn question.”

When I take too long to answer because I’m preoccupied with stroking him, Connor puts his mouth against my ear.

“You can’t decide, I’ll decide for you. You’re getting my cock. From behind. I’m gonna get you on your hands and knees and fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna fuck you some more, until we both come. And then I’m gonna fuck you again.”

I thrill to his words, and to the look in his eyes, hungrier than a starving animal. I whisper, “Yes to all that. And Connor…”

“What?”

“Make it rough.”

There’s an electric pause. He licks his lips, and his voice gets all rumbly. “Rough leaves marks, sweetheart.”

Without hesitation, I say, “I want your marks. I want my skin to show where your hands were, where your teeth were, how I make you lose control. I want to be able to look in the mirror tomorrow and see everywhere you touched me.”

For a moment, Connor closes his eyes. He mutters, “Could you be any more perfect?”

One of his hands grips my head to hold it in place while he ravages my mouth. With his other hand, he pinches my hard nipple through my shirt. When I squirm in pleasure, he releases my nipple, slides his hand into my pants, and pinches my swollen clit.

My whole body jerks. I gasp into his mouth. He laughs against my lips, a low and satisfied sound, and then slides a finger deep inside me.

I say his name, my voice husky with need. My hips start a rhythm in tandem with the press and slide of Connor’s big finger. His thumb goes to work on my clit, circling round and round. I groan. My eyes slide shut. I arch my back, opening my legs wider for him.

Connor bites my jaw. His hot breath fans down my neck. When he rubs his cheek against mine, his stubble is scratchy against my skin. “You like my fingers, Tabby? You like my tongue and my hard cock? You like it when I tell you how much I love your mouth and your pussy?”

I whimper.

“Yes, you do,” he says roughly. “Because you’re my beautiful, dirty, sweet, badass girl. Now let me watch you suck my cock while I make you come, sweetheart.”

I obey without thinking, adjusting my position so I can take him down my throat while he works his magical fingers between my legs. The steering wheel is jammed into my shoulder, I’m getting a cramp in my arm, and I’m wound up like a pretzel between the seats, but I don’t care.

He makes me forget everything else. He wipes my mind clear of all the garbage. Intellectually, I know it’s only sex, but it’s so much more because it’s
him
, and he makes everything better just by being himself.

“Oh God, princess,” he whispers, staring down at me as I suckle and stroke him. “Fuck yes.”

He’s rock-hard in my mouth, hard and throbbing, and I’m throbbing all over too. I feel like a lit stick of dynamite, ready to blow.

Connor’s head drops back against the headrest. He starts to thrust up into my mouth, grunting in pleasure, his hand still working between my legs. I’m so soaked, I hear the sound it makes as Connor’s fingers fuck me. I’m close to orgasm when I hear the electronic chirp of a car alarm.

Connor groans. “Got company.”

I peek past the edge of the window and see a couple walking from the parking garage elevator. They’re headed toward the BMW parked next to us.

I quickly sit up and adjust my clothing. Breathing hard, Connor stuffs himself back into his pants, zips up, and gives me a hard kiss on the lips. “Upstairs,” he says gruffly, looking into my eyes. “Now.”

My heart singing, I jump from the car. Connor follows just as fast. We get to the elevators, Connor pushes the button, and then we stand there staring at each other in burning silence as we wait for it to arrive.

The bell dings, the doors slide open, Connor pulls me inside. As soon as the doors slide shut, he pulls me into his arms. His mouth goes to my neck. He sucks, hard, and a moan escapes me.

“Do you know what you do to me? Do you have any idea?”

He whispers it into my ear, pressing me against the wall of the elevator, his big body hard and hot against mine. I feel his heart hammering against his breastbone, hear the need in his voice, smell the masculine scent of his skin, and wonder if anything else will ever be as good as this.

Our lips meet. It’s anything but gentle.

I’m panting. Greedy for him. Wanting him inside me so bad, I’m trembling. He grabs my ass and grinds his pelvis against mine. His other hand gathers my hair. He wraps it around his wrist and uses it to hold my head in place while his tongue plunders my mouth.

The elevator slows to a stop, and the doors open. I open my eyes, and he’s staring down at me with this ravenous, adoring look, like he can’t get enough of me. I can’t get enough of him either.

I say brokenly, “Connor.”

“I know. Me too.”

He kisses me one last time and then takes my hand and tugs me out of the elevator and down the hall. I follow him, almost tripping over my own feet in my rush. When we get to the door, he fumbles for the card key in his pocket, curses when I press my breasts against his back and reach around to stroke him, stiff and ready under his zipper.

He gets the door open, drags me inside, pushes me against the wall. The door slams shut. He pulls my shirt off over my head and tosses it aside. He bends down, takes my breast into his mouth, and bites.

It’s soft at first, a nip just under the puckered bud of my nipple, but when I groan and arch into his mouth, Connor presses down harder until it stings. I cry out, loving the feel of his teeth against my tender flesh, loving it even more when he gentles and strokes his tongue over the place he just bit.

“More?” he whispers, his fingers digging into my hips.

“More,” I beg. I’m instantly rewarded. He nips a stinging path all around my nipple, following each bite with a tender stroke of his tongue, so I’m overwhelmed with the cycle of pain/pleasure. I writhe against him, whispering
yes yes yes
as he moves to my other breast and repeats the process. When he finally raises his head, both my breasts are stinging and slick, and I’m wet between my legs like I’ve never been.

He demands, “Tell me what you want.”

“You. Everything. Anything. Please.”

My breathless pleading makes him growl softly in pleasure. “Get naked. And then get on the bed.”

The intensity in his eyes and voice make my pulse fly. I quickly strip. When I go to the bed and sit on the edge, Connor shakes his head. “On your knees, princess,” he says, his voice husky, and my pulse goes haywire.

I get on all fours and look at him over my shoulder. He walks closer, watching me. He pulls his shirt over his head and drops it to the floor. “Look at that beautiful pussy,” he whispers, staring between my legs.

My face flushes. I’ve never been looked at like this. I’ve never
displayed
myself like this, and I’m shocked at how much I enjoy his devouring gaze roaming over my naked body. I feel both vulnerable and powerful, which is confusing, exciting, and the most addicting thing I’ve ever felt.

Connor stands at the edge of the bed. He reaches between my legs and lightly strokes me there, eliciting a soft whimper from me. Our eyes lock. He says, “Stay still and be quiet,” and then slowly pushes a finger inside my slick heat.

I bite my lip to keep from moaning.

Gently he works his finger in and out, until I’m pushing back against his hand and gripping the blanket, my eyes closed. When he slides his finger over my throbbing clit, I moan.

He smacks me on the ass.

I jump, gasping.

“Quiet,” he warns, and goes back to stroking me.

Now my ass is stinging along with both my breasts. If he smacks me again, I think I’ll come instantly.

Connor goes to his knees. His big hands slide up the backs of my thighs. I feel the warm, soft wetness of his tongue tease the fold between my pussy and my thigh, and stop breathing.

His tongue caresses me, teasing all around the outside of my pussy, until finally he spreads me open with his thumbs and suckles my clit between his lips.

I cry out in pleasure, arching my back. One second later, Connor smacks my ass again.

But he doesn’t pull away. He’s got his face between my spread legs, eating my pussy while spanking my ass. I think I might die right now of sheer bliss.

I buck against his mouth. He slaps me again. It makes me moan again, and I get another sharp, stinging blow on my bottom. “Connor,” I gasp. “Please.”

“You can’t come yet,” he growls, and then sinks his teeth into my thigh.

I bury my face into the blanket and whimper.

He plays with me, taking his time, running his hands over my thighs and ass, up my spine, all the while murmuring words of adoration.

Beautiful.

So sweet, so wet.

Look at this—perfect.

God, you make me crazy.

I don’t pay attention to the words themselves. It’s the reverent tone they’re spoken in that move me, the way he’s so completely into this. Into
me
. It makes me feel safe and beautiful and reckless. At this moment he could tell me to do anything, and I would.

“Your cock,” I beg. “I need your cock.”

“And you’ll get it, sweetheart. But I’m not done playing yet.”

In one swift move, he flips me over so I’m on my back. My legs are spread open. My pussy is drenched. My nipples are hard and aching.

Holding my gaze, Connor slowly unbuckles his belt. He slides it through the belt loops, smiling this devilishly wicked smile, his full lips curved, his eyes heavy-lidded and hot.

A shiver racks my body. Dizzy with lust and anticipation, I wriggle my hips.

Connor chuckles. Still holding on to his belt, he unzips his pants. I see the big bulge beneath his boxer briefs and moisten my lips.

He walks slowly around the side of the bed. Leaning over, he gathers my hands in his and then presses them to the pillow over my head. He wraps his belt around my wrists, tightening the hold with a firm tug at the end.

Looking intently down at me, he whispers, “Okay?”

I nod.

“Say it, sweetheart.”

“Yes. Okay.”

He nods, satisfied, and then returns to the end of the bed. Slowly, never taking his gaze from mine, he strips out of the rest of his clothing. When he’s fully naked, his erection jutting out proudly, a drop of moisture glistening on the slit in the head, he growls, “You look fucking
amazing
.”

He grips his cock in one hand. With the other, he reaches down and thumbs over my clit.

I close my eyes, lost in sensation. Beyond the excruciating pleasure, I hear his voice, praising me.

“Your tits are gorgeous. Your skin is perfect. And that ass.” He softly groans.

“Fuck me,” I whisper, “Please. I need you.”

Instead of his cock, I get his mouth again, teasing my clit. My back bows from the bed. He pinches both my nipples. A shock wave of pleasure rolls through me. I moan his name.

“Fuck my face, angel,” he pants. “Come in my mouth. Let me taste you.”

My hips twitch involuntarily at his words.
God, that dirty mouth destroys me.

His fingers dig into my ass as he lifts me, grinding his mouth against my core. I feel the rough scrape of his unshaven jaw against my thighs, the tug of his teeth against the most sensitive part of my body. The sounds he makes are loud and carnal, sucking and smacking, completely erotic. Moaning and rolling my hips, helplessly bound and abandoned, I ride the strokes of his tongue until I’m right at the razor’s edge—

Then he presses a finger inside me, and I come.

It’s violent, taking over my entire body. I can’t tell where it starts or ends, it feels as if it originates from everywhere at once.

I scream.

It feels so good to let go, so good to give myself over to him. I never want it to end.

Connor moans into me, encouraging me as I explode, convulsing and writhing, oblivious to everything else but the pleasure he’s giving me.

“Yes. Beautiful. You taste like fucking heaven,” he whispers, licking me, kissing me, worshipping me with his mouth.

I’m full of him, coming for him, and still I want more. I groan. My thighs shake. Every part of me shakes. Every part of me is desperate for his touch, for his hot, filthy words and sweet, gentle possession. I want whatever he wants to give me, but most of all, I want it
now
.