“Shadoe.”
She ignored his warning plea, dropped to her knees the same way he had done. “I’ve wanted to do this.” She opened the button of his jeans, and with damned slow movements drew the zipper down, her fingers brushing his erection and making him grit his teeth. She pulled his jeans over his hips and to the floor.
“I love a man who goes commando,” she said, burying her face against his hip, biting him there, then licking along his hip bone, heading to his crotch. “God, you smell good.” She licked his inner thigh, making his legs shake.
Spence was a strong guy, but Shadoe made him weak in the knees. No woman had ever made his legs shake before. But when she grasped his cock in her hand and stroked him, he palmed the wall for support. And when she swirled her thumb over the crest, he had to bite down on his lip to keep from moaning.
When she placed her lips over his cockhead and took him inside her mouth, he let out a groan, knowing he was at her mercy.
She slid his shaft along the wet heat of her tongue, using her hand to stroke and guide her movements, closing her lips over him to create a perfect suction. Farther and farther in, then out, she sucked and stroked him, and now he wished they were inside, bathed in light so he could watch her. Instead, all he could do was feel the soft glide of his dick along her tongue, the grip of her lips as she squeezed the crest before taking him deep again, all the way to the back of her throat.
Then she swallowed, and he wanted to drop to the floor and die right then. She had him literally by the balls. He was hers for the taking.
She tilted her head back, her mouth filled with his cock, her warm brown eyes dark with desire.
“Yeah, baby, suck me.” He reached down and grabbed her hair, twisted it around his hand, and used it to guide her, to fuck her mouth with gentle thrusts.
She took everything he gave her, and then some, cupping his balls and massaging them until he knew he had no hope of holding back. He felt it churning deep inside him, ready to erupt like a boiling volcano.
When she hummed, it was a vibration in his balls and he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“I’m going to come in your mouth, Shadoe. You want that?” She only pushed forward to take more of him, held on to his hips, and took away the last ounce of his control. The blast nearly launched him off his feet, sending shots of light behind his eyes as he erupted into her mouth. He pulled on her hair, holding her in place while he shot a stream of hot come into her willing throat. She dug her nails into him, which only added to the white-hot pleasure jettisoning from within him. He gave her all he had, until he was limp and sweaty and utterly astounded by this woman on her knees before him.
He bent down and lifted her, kissed her, tasting himself on her lips. That made him linger at her mouth, slide his tongue inside to lick at hers, intensifying the flavor. Despite what he’d just been through, his cock jumped at the taste of her, the mingling of her flavor and his in their mouths.
He was ready for more. Was she? He rolled his thumb over her nipple. It was hard.
“Did it excite you to suck me?”
“It made my pussy wet, Spence. Fuck me.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He kicked off his boots and discarded his jeans, then scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
SHaDoe’s ENTIRE BODY VIBRATED. BEING HELD BY SPENCE AS HE carried her to the bed was thrilling. Making him come, having his cock in her mouth, and being in control like that was something she’d never experienced—had never wanted to before. But with Spence, oh, how she’d wanted to.
Ever since she’d taken the stage tonight for the first time, had seen his heated gaze when she’d made eye contact with him, she’d known he wanted her. But it was more than that. It was the way he looked at her, burning a hole through her skin with his eyes, possessing her as his gaze raked over her.
Spence was one gorgeous man. As soon as they’d stepped in the club, the other girls had zeroed in on him, looked him up and down in feminine appreciation. She knew the feeling, and it had only increased when she stood on stage tonight and met his eyes.
What an incredible, empowering feeling had come over her at that moment. To be desired by a man like Spence was amazing. She didn’t understand it, couldn’t explain it, but damn had she ever been turned on. And it had lasted throughout the night. Her giddiness had nothing to do with wowing the crowd. She couldn’t care less about that. She’d done well on stage because she’d played to Spence and him alone. No one else had existed for her.
Just like no other man existed for her right now, except the one who held her, his powerful arms bulging with muscle. So strong, so capable of such violence, and yet he laid her so tenderly on the bed, and followed her down there to lay a kiss on her that left her without breath, without words.
She didn’t need words. Neither of them did. Not when they had hands and mouths and their bodies to speak with. He stripped off her boots and jeans—she giggled at how they hung from her ankles—and spread her legs, placing his fingers around her ankles to hold her in place.
“Do you think I’m going to try to escape?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows.
“I just want to look at you.”
He’d turned on the bedside lamp. Soft, filtered light filled the room. Not enough to be glaring, but enough so they could see each other. Right now he looked straight on at her sex. It made her quiver.
“I love the way you taste, Shadoe.” He crawled between her legs and took a long, slow lick of her pussy.
She watched him, mesmerized by his tongue. “I love the way you lick me.”
“I like making you come.”
She was rather embarrassed by that. “For some reason, you make it easy. It’s not always that way.”
He cocked a brow. “Really.”
“Really.”
Then his lips lifted. “Good.”
Men and their egos.
Now that they’d both had an orgasm, the sense of urgency had worn off—somewhat, anyway. But this was also the first time she’d gotten to see him naked. And oh, man, was he something.
“Stand up by the bed,” she said.
“What?”
“I want to look at you.”
He laughed, but complied.
His body was massive, all lean muscle, no fat. Wide shoulders, narrow waist, strong thighs, and a really impressive cock. A cock that apparently liked being looked at, because it hardened while she watched. She lifted her gaze to his.
“That’s interesting.”
“I was hoping you’d think so.” His cock rose, then bobbed up and down.
She laughed and scrambled off the bed to walk around him, laying her hand over the tattoo on his shoulder blade. She kissed the eagle and the word Freedom, then laid her head on his back and wrapped her arms around him.
“Shadoe.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing?”
“Holding you.”
“Why?”
What a question. “Because you feel good.”
“Oh.”
He turned around and she tilted her head back to look at him. His eyes were mesmerizing. So hard, so blue, so sexy. The man was just one huge ball of intensity.
And right now, he was all hers.
“You going to stand there and ogle me all night, woman, or are we gonna fuck?”
And the way he talked to her—no bullshit—always saying what was on his mind. Even that turned her on. “I think we’re going to fuck.”
“Good.” He pushed her on the bed, reached down, grabbed a condom from his jeans, and crawled after her. “I need to be inside you. My dick is hard and has been all night, ever since you pranced out onto the stage.”
She lay on her back and placed her feet flat on the bed, raised her knees, teasing him by spreading her legs. “I think you were hard before I ‘pranced’ onto the stage.”
He rested his hands on her knees. “You’re right. Making you come gets me hard. Did you like that?”
Remembering the way he got her off in the darkened hallway made her juices flow, her clit quiver. “You know I did.”
“I’ll do that for you every night before your show.”
“God, Spence. You make me wet.”
“Wet is good.” He dropped down between her legs and slid inside her with one thrust.
Shadoe gasped, then arched against him, meeting his thrust with a desperate need to feel him buried deeper. He cupped one hand underneath her and lifted her, driving her clit against his shaft, splintering her as he rode her with relentless power.
He sought to dominate, to control. She’d never been one to give up power in the bedroom. With Spence, though, it didn’t matter. He mastered her and she didn’t question it. She needed it, craved it.
She gave up everything but the sensations, the way he moved inside her, dragging his cock against her most sensitive spots, knowing exactly where to touch her, to kiss her, to bring out the most pleasure from her body. He’d pull out halfway, then slide back in, hitting her G-spot at the same time his shaft rubbed her clit.
No man knew her body this well, how she’d react, where the areas were to drive her crazy. Spence did. She looked at him, watched the way he seemed to concentrate on the points that drove her to the brink. He focused on her, on what she needed.
Astounding.
It didn’t take her long at all to find a climax again, shattering like fragile glass, her body pulsing like the hard beat at a night-club. But Spence wouldn’t let her come down from that high, instead continuing to fuck her, this time harder, faster. He picked up his own rhythm and took her there again, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her buttocks as he pushed himself deep.
“Spence.”
“Yeah, baby, I know.”
He did know. He kissed her with depth, tightened his hold, and ground against her. She felt him everywhere and came again, cried out his name as she fell and this time took him along for the ride.
She felt like she was on a softly floating cloud, barely registering anything in the realm of reality. Spence pulled out and left the bed only for a moment, then gathered her against him and wrapped his arm around her, kissed the back of her neck, his warm breath against her hair.
She couldn’t remember ever feeling so content as she drifted off to sleep.
TWELVE
SPENCE SAT IN A CHAIR AND NURSED A CUP OF COFFEE, watching Shadoe sleep. Her hair had fallen over her eyes. The sheet covered only the lower half of her body, giving him a great view of her naked back. Her arms were raised so he had a nice peek at the side of one breast.
He leaned back in the chair and wished he were a painter or a great photographer. He’d like to have that picture preserved forever.
Christ, now he was waxing poetic. Hardly his style, but this was what she’d reduced him to—watching her sleep and musing about her face and body. If the guys could see him now, they’d laugh.
He’d known Shadoe only a few days, and in that time something had happened to him. Something kind of profound.
He felt something for her. She was his match sexually—wild and untamed and game for anything, with no reservations. Her passions were boundless. He liked that in a woman. She had no ulterior motives, wasn’t clingy, just seemed to enjoy having sex with him. What man wouldn’t love that about a woman?
But she’d made no claims on him, hadn’t asked him what was going to happen between them in the future. Last night after they’d had sex, she curled up next to him and passed right out, hadn’t needed words or anything between them.
She was just like a man, except she was all woman.
He was starting to think he’d miss her when this case was over, and he didn’t like thinking that way. He liked going separate ways with a woman after the fun and games had ended. He didn’t want to think about “after,” and what that meant. He didn’t do relationships.