Home > Forbidden Nights (Seductive Nights #5)(9)

Forbidden Nights (Seductive Nights #5)(9)
Author: Lauren Blakely

CHAPTER FIVE

New Orleans, night . . .

He slammed the door shut behind them in one firm push. The sound of it clanging signaled a change in him. The dark look in his eyes and the stony set of his lips thrilled and scared the hell out of her too. She’d never seen him like this. Of course she’d never seen him like this. But she never even knew he had this side—a man staring down the woman he planned to claim.

He didn’t speak. He simply pointed. To the floor. Holy shit. He was serious. “You want me on my knees?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“You want to be on your knees,” he corrected, his confident, sexy voice sending a hot spark through her. She’d been on her knees. She’d given blow jobs. She wasn’t inexperienced. She knew sex inside and out and upside-down. She’d read books on kink, quirks, fetishes, and Kama Sutra. But never had she asked a man to take control like this. And never had she thought she’d like it. But her body didn’t lie. Not when the aching between her legs intensified as his hands moved to his belt, and he slowly, purposefully, took his time taking it off. Loop by fucking loop.

Like a man in control. He could do anything with that belt. He could tie her hands, swat her with the non-buckled end, or none of the above. She didn’t know and that was part of the allure.

She watched him take it off.

Oh God, her mouth was watering. This was Nate. This was her good friend, and he was stripping off his belt and flicking the leather on the floor of his hotel room.

A suite on the top floor of the hotel he operated, this room was designed for pleasure and luxury. The white bed cover was pristine, but so enticing, and the sliding doors to the bathroom were mirrored. She caught a brief glimpse of her reflection. Her blond hair was loose and curly already; the humid June weather hadn’t been able to work much voodoo magic on her tresses that were naturally on the wild side. The strap on her tank had slid down her shoulder. She looked like herself, except for one thing—the desire in her eyes. She knew her own body intimately, understood precisely what made her tick, tingle and heat up, but she’d never seen her own eyes when she was this turned on. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been this turned on. But when he’d kissed her at the restaurant he’d set her heart to flames, scorching a path of pleasure from the center of her body all the way to her fingertips.

Somewhere inside her lived the slightest morsel of fear. She wasn’t afraid of Nate, but perhaps she was afraid of herself. Unsure how she’d feel if she liked submitting as much as she’d liked the way he’d kissed her, as if he owned her pleasure.

Completely.

The room was near silent—the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioning.

She stepped backwards. He moved closer. She continued towards the bed. He stalked over to her. She felt like prey. Judging from the intensity in his gaze she was the most succulent meal he’d ever wanted. She stopped when the back of her legs hit the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“You told me to kneel,” she said, her voice wobbly.

“I told you to kneel. I didn’t tell you to move.”

“Oh,” she said on a swallow. She wasn’t sure how far the game went.

He pointed to the floor. “Here.”

She began to kneel, but he grabbed her, pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her, then tucked his fingers under her chin so she was looking at him. “Hey, this is us now. Are you okay?”

She breathed a sigh of relief, so glad that he’d asked. And admittedly, a bit more turned on that he had. “Yes.”

“Do you still want this?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“No questions? No worries?”

Her natural instinct to be direct overtook her. Feeling brazen and dangerous, she grasped his hand and guided it between her legs so he could touch the damp heat of her panties. She was soaked through the cotton panel. He hissed the second he made contact. “Fuck,” he muttered, then slid his fingers across the thin fabric. She arched into him, wanting so much more. He dipped his mouth to her neck, mapping a hot trail along her skin until he reached her ear. “See how turned on you are now? You’re going to be so much wetter after you take me in your mouth for the first time. Do it now,” he said, and she felt a rush of heat that began proving his point.

She kneeled, and looked up, waiting instructions.

He raised an eyebrow appreciatively. “Unzip my jeans,” he said as he worked on his shirt, starting from the top button. She wasn’t sure where to feast her eyes, whether on him systematically undoing each button, revealing inch by inch his strong, broad chest, or on the throbbing hard length right there behind the denim.

She couldn’t look away from his hands though, especially when she saw his chest for the first time—his strong pecs, his flat and hard belly. She was tempted to stand so she could trail her long nails across his skin and watch him hitch in a breath, watch his reaction to her.

Uh-oh.

Old habits died hard. This wasn’t about what she could do to him. It was about what he was doing to her. With her eyes and fingers on his crotch, she popped open the button on his jeans, and slowly unzipped his fly, the teeth of the zipper spreading.

Did he wear boxers or briefs? White or black or blue? She was about to find out.

The answer nearly knocked her to the floor when his cock sprang out, long, thick, hard and completely riding free. She stared at the glorious sight. She might even have gawked, slack-jawed, because he was stunning.

As she tugged down his jeans, she looked up at him. “You go commando,” she said with a grin as she stated the obvious. But the obvious needed to be stated, and admired.

“I do.”

“Have you always been totally naked under your jeans every time we’ve gone out?” she asked, as he unbuttoned the final button on his shirt, then pulled it off and tossed it on the floor.

“Yes.”

Casey’s eyes widened. To think, the whole time she’d known him, he’d been naked under his jeans every single time. Every time she’d had dinner with him, gone to the movies, a baseball game, a comedy club, or an art gallery, he’d been one layer away from nudity.

“All the time?” she asked, craving some kind of final confirmation of this mouth-wateringly gorgeous vision of his free-range cock.

Ready at a moment’s notice. Every second of the day.

“Yes, I go commando all the time. Every time you’ve seen me I’ve been riding free. Now, I need you to stop talking and put that mouth of yours to a better use. Suck me now, Casey.”

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