“Shhh.” He cupped her br**sts in his hands and stared into her eyes, his demeanor hot but measured. “Show me how strong you are, honey. Show me that awesome control.”
Oh, God, a challenge—one he knew she’d feel compelled to accept. “It’s too much.”
“Not possible with you.” His thumbs moved over her tightened ni**les. “With us.”
There he went again, saying things that sounded so serious, hinting at a future—
“I want you to relax back against my thighs. Let your arms rest.” He snagged a pillow and tucked it next to her to support her splinted elbow. “Now,” he whispered, “let’s try this.” He drew her knees up and eased them out, so that her feet were flat beside his hips. With rapt attention, he looked at her exposed sex. “Damn.”
Margo groaned.
“You see,” he said, still in that soft, almost awed tone. “You’re almost there again, aren’t you, baby?”
She tried to deny it with a shake of her head, but his attention remained between her legs.
Again, his fingers played with her, so expertly, and she knew he was right. She could, and she would.
With Dash.
No other man could be like him. So cocky but also incredibly caring. Sweet but surprisingly dominant. Carefree yet responsibly settled in a way she’d never expected for a player like him.
And focused. God Almighty, the man had extreme focus, especially when it came to pleasuring her.
She was fast falling in love with the way he touched her, with how he made her feel, his touch.
With him.
But twenty minutes later, she crumbled. Tirelessly, he had teased every inch of her until her skin tingled all over and a fever invaded her muscles and she desperately needed to come. “Dash—”
“I love the way you say my name when you’re so close to letting go.”
His repeated use of the L word no longer alarmed her. She could feel his erection against her bottom, his muscles all rigid as he teased her.
“I love the way you look, how you smell, how you feel, those sexy little sounds you make when you’re so close to coming.” He watched her face as he tipped her back farther, worked his hands under her to push down his flannel pants. “I love watching you wait, hearing that anxious little catch in your voice when you tell me you need me.”
“I do.” She groaned, and managed raggedly, “I need you so badly. Right now.”
“I know.” He leaned forward and the kiss to her mouth was sweet and easy. “But waiting only makes it better.”
The thought of waiting was too much and her legs just naturally tried to pull together.
“Hey, hey...” Dash gently parted them again, then touched her in a way that kept them open—and had her gasping. “Just a few seconds more, honey.”
Carefully, he moved her back so that he could free himself.
Margo didn’t know what new torment he had planned, but she couldn’t bear it. She wanted him more than she wanted her next breath. More than she could remember ever wanting anyone, or anything.
He’d done that to her, deliberately. He’d brought her to this fevered, mindless state of need, and she finally had to admit it—she couldn’t take it. Couldn’t control her reaction. Couldn’t withstand his sensual torment. Not anymore.
Desperately, not giving him a chance to stop her, she wrapped her fingers firmly around him and was rewarded with the catch of Dash’s breath, his utter stillness.
So smooth and hot and hard. He flexed in her hand, a drop of fluid escaping him. In a daze of lust and...love, she stroked him.
Breathing with her, Dash said, “Baby...wait.”
“I can’t.” She used her thumb to spread that drop of fluid around the head of his erection, and with a deep groan Dash gave up fighting her. “I want to taste you, too.”
He clenched his jaw. “Later.” His eyes were heavy-lidded, dark color high on his cheekbones. He breathed harder.
Deliberately, she licked her lips. “You promise?”
His hands contracted on her thighs. “Yeah,” he rasped.
She moved against him, lost in the moment, and he let her, even helped her.
“This is dangerous,” he warned.
“You’re dangerous.” Unable to wait a second more, Margo lifted up, positioned him. Dash let his hands rest lightly on her pelvic bones as he labored for breath. They looked at each other for a suspended moment of time.
With an excruciatingly slow purpose, Margo worked against him until the head of his erection had penetrated. She paused, relishing the moment. She could feel him pulsing, and the unwilling grasp of her body around him.
“Jesus.” Dash strained, his fingers flexing on her thighs. He never broke eye contact.
Neither did she.
She licked her lips, and took a little more, sliding down, then back up again.
A guttural groan rumbled from deep in his chest. “Tease,” he accused, and then added, “I love it.”
Heat mounted between them. She released his erection and instead braced her hand on his rock-solid shoulder.
“More,” he ordered, his eyes glittering.
She nodded...and sank down. This time Dash held her hips and lifted up into her with one steady thrust that penetrated her completely.
Her thighs strained.
His jaw locked.
Margo slumped down over him until her forehead touched his, their noses bumping, their breath mingling.
Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. It was almost too much. He filled her up and then some, stretching her, touching her womb, but that wasn’t the best part. It wasn’t just the intense physical pleasure. It wasn’t just the extreme talent he had for heightening her every sense until she felt drowned in pleasure.
It was Dash. The complete and total connection with him.
“That’s it.” He cupped her face, keeping her close to kiss her, lingering as if he enjoyed sharing her breath.
How could he talk?
His fingers tangled in her curls. “You are so hot and wet. Do you know how you feel to me?”
She gave one small negative shake.
“Perfect. Fucking perfect.” He lifted into her, and she moaned with the extreme enjoyment of it. “Do you feel in control now, baby?”
How? How did one simple movement send fire licking along her nerve endings?
“I know you,” he said, as if he’d read her thoughts, knew her confusion and uncertainty. “Every inch of you.” His hand went over her neck, down her back, down, down...and then in, touching her intimately. Eyes narrowed, he smiled. “I know what you like. I know what you need.”
It could almost be scary, being so sexually dependent on someone who had so much physical influence over her.
“And this.” He touched her nipple with just the right amount of pressure, in just the right way.
She almost came. Almost.
Margo knew he so easily judged her response by the broken sounds of pleasure she made, so she tried biting her lip and keeping still and quiet.
With Dash firmly planted deep inside her.
Dash laughed softly. “That won’t do you any good, you know.” He flexed his hips, sending new tingles spiraling through her already sensitized body. “I pay attention, sweetheart. There are so many ways I can gauge what does it for you, even if you deny it.”
She shook her head, still trying to deny the overwhelming way he moved her.
“Yes. Like how pointed and stiff your ni**les are.” He touched each one, and his voice lowered. “How hot and wet you are.” His thumb strummed her clitoris. In a nearly soundless whisper, he added, “And how you’re squeezing my c**k like a f**king fist—”
Riding against him, Margo came. Loudly. There was no holding back. No tempering what she felt or the explosive way she expressed it. Her body went taut, her back bowing, her thighs trembling around him.
Gripping her hips, Dash met her frantic rhythm, his own urgency finally making him lose control. She was still twisting with her orgasm when he gripped her down tight to him, his chest and shoulder muscles harshly defined. He growled out his release, and Margo felt it all.
Everything.
Because they hadn’t used protection.
Her fault as much as his.
Fading down against him, feeling those gorgeous muscular arms of his wrap around her, she just couldn’t care.
Yet.
Tomorrow, though, would probably be a different story. But right now, with Dash pressing tender kisses to her temple, his big strong hands coasting over her back, keeping her close, it just didn’t seem that important.
* * *
THE STORM WOKE HER. Nestled against Dash, her cheek on his shoulder, one of her legs over his, she slowly opened her eyes.
It almost alarmed her, how entirely right it felt, how safe and comfortable, to be entwined with him. His heat surrounded her, his scent filling her head like a drug.
Outside the window, lightning flashed.
Her next thought was of Oliver. But as she listened, she didn’t hear any scratching at the door.
Carefully she lifted her head to see the clock— 3:00 a.m.
Going by what she could feel, she and Dash were both still naked. Vaguely, she remembered him moving her to her back, going to the restroom and getting a cool washcloth to bathe her. She remembered the gentleness of his touch, his caring as he handed her more aspirin and then kissed her before crawling back into bed beside her, drawing her into close contact with his very fine physique.
Still raised up, Margo looked at him. A little in awe, she studied the breadth of his shoulders, the fine hair under his armpit, the bristly hair on his lean jaw, how utterly beautiful he looked in sleep.
Such a devastating man in every way.
She knew she’d stupidly fallen in love with him. Until she’d felt him coming inside her—without protection—she hadn’t realized just how much she cared. But apparently along with her rigid persona, he’d also stolen her common sense.
Never, not even once, had she ever forgotten to be careful. She was on the pill, only...she hadn’t taken it since the night of the wreck.
Dire repercussions tried to seep in, scrambling her thoughts and destroying her lassitude. She was now wide-awake.
Slowly she drew a calming breath. Maybe it’d still be okay. No reason to borrow trouble yet.
Her attention returned to Dash’s stretched-out body, then his stunning profile. Sexual activity, her fingers and sleep had left his hair badly rumpled. Another burst of lightning showed the shape of his narrow nose, his cheekbones.
That incredible and clever mouth.
Emotion thickened in her chest, pooled in her lower body. There were so many small details about him that appealed to her. She could spend hours just looking at him—
A sudden thought crashed into her and she sat straighter.
Dash stirred, turning away from her and resettling with a deep sigh.
Details.
Taking only a moment to admire Dash’s wide back, the furrow of his spine and how it curved down to lean hips, she slipped out of the bed. Feeling around on the floor, she located the T-shirt he’d given her to wear, and then her housecoat. When she opened the door, it squeaked a little, but he slept on.