“That tells younothing,” she retorted, but she didn’t seem as certain now.
“Please. Your body can’t lie, even if your mouth can.” He grasped her hand and brought it to the bulge that was straining to get at her, like a greyhound at the starting gate, tearing at it to get into the race. “And mine isn’t lying, either.”
She pressed her open hand against him, exploring the shape of him as if memorizing it, and her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment.
A triumphant grunt escaped his throat. “What I’m going to do,” he explained slowly, “is take you right here, right now, in this goddamn room, and I’m going to love your body so thoroughly that when you pass through those doors again, everyone in this club, every single son of a bitch who even dares to glance your way, will avert his eyes. Because my stamp will be all over you. You will be covered in my scent, my brand. And they will look at you and know you’ve been claimed and you’re mine.”
There was malice in her eyes.“Chiche!”she taunted. “I dare you.”
“I will take that dare,mon trésor.”He spun her around before she could anticipate his move, bent her over one of the tables, and yanked up her skirt, laying her round bottom bare to his hungry gaze. Again, he was assaulted by the idea that other men had been watching this perfect body move, and, in retribution, brought his hand down in a stinging slap.
Naisha yelped and wriggled, panting in shock. “What the hell, William!”
He leaned forward, his chest to her back, whispering into her ear. “That’s for walking in here, looking like that, and doing what you did to me.”
“What did I do to you?”
Oh, she was playing dumb? He drew down the zipper of his pants and withdrew the agonizing thickness of his erection, which throbbed in his hand, and pressed it against the lower curve of her bottom. “This, woman. This is what you did to me.”
“I can’t help it if I’m beautiful.”
“No, you can’t. Don’t ever stop being beautiful.” His other hand came around her belly, down between her legs, where she was already syrupy, dripping, shockingly hot. “But be beautiful for me. Be sexy for my eyes. Not theirs—”
She scoffed. “As if—”
Then she could say no more, as with a single thrust he was inside her, and all she could do was gasp. He was not in the mood for any more talking. It was time to plant that flag.
He wanted to make this one slow, really, he did. He wanted to ease in and out, in and out, taunt her with the fat tip of his penis before penetrating her again. Hear the sound of her voice above the music that still came at them through the door.
But Naisha had the devil in her. He was sure of it. Because the woman began to move against him as she had on the dance floor, but this time, it was for his eyes only. His aching, starving body only.
They began to move in unison, in a desperate, frenetic blur of sexual energy. A groan escaped his lips, because she felt so, so sweet, her tight passage grasping him like a fist. She laughed again, and his response was another stinging slap on her fat, round ass. The toned flesh rippled under his hand like ballistic gel, sending the reverberation through her and into him via the rod that held them connected.
She grunted with pained pleasure at the smack, and he looked down to see the reddening imprint of his hand. Branded, he thought.She is mine.
“You freaking bastard.”
“I thought you liked it.”
“I didn’t,” she moaned.
“Oh no?” he taunted. “Then why are you dripping down my thighs?”
Nothing. She couldn’t answer. He taunted her further, enjoying the power, delighting in her submission. “Want me to stop?”
Silence—except for a rasping, grating gust that tore from her chest.
“Say it, Naisha. I am a man of honor. Just say, ‘Stop, Liam,’ and I’ll—”
“Will you just shut up?” She was sobbing with pleasure, leaning forward to rest her face on the table as if she was scared she would slide to the floor. It was all the answer he needed.
Her wild hair was electrified, a Medusa’s nest that had turned him to stone the moment he’d set eyes on her tonight. He plunged his hand into it, and then with a twist held a fist full of it. Holding her fast, not letting her go.
Her groans came in rough bursts as she pressed back against him. Her forceful, angry backward thrusts were more than he could stand. He just needed to hold on a few more seconds. She needed to get there first… always her first.
When he felt her orgasm begin deep inside her, and radiate outward, he gave into it himself, an outpouring of liquid heat. For several seconds after the pulsing and shuddering was over, he couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.
It was Naisha who recovered first, sliding sideways from under him and turning to face him. She grabbed his head by the ears and pulled him to her, slicing into his mouth with her tongue.