Wild Nights by Jaci Burton Page A

stroke the base while she sucked him, wanting to pleasure him like no woman ever had. She cupped his balls, feeling them tighten within her grasp.
    She wanted him to come in her mouth, needed to have that part of him inside her. With relentless pursuit she went after what she sought, stroking and squeezing, loving the power she held within her hands and mouth, the way he jerked underneath her, rising up to meet her as she tightened her grip and massaged the soft head with her tongue and mouth.
    “Oh yeah, baby. Just like that,” he murmured, jabbing his cock upward, driving with hard thrusts into the back of her throat. She felt the hot, salty burst as he let go with a hard groan, erupting, flooding her mouth with his come. She swallowed, the taste of him making her hot, wet and desperate to be fucked.
    She held on to him until he stopped shuddering, but he still stroked her hair. A damp sheen of sweat coated the skin of his thighs and stomach as she let go of his shaft and glanced up at him.
    “Damn,” was all he said before dragging her across his chest to plant a hot, long kiss on her mouth. He slid his tongue inside and licked at hers, kissing her with such force she moaned and crawled into his lap, needing to be closer. Now it was her turn to latch onto his hair, rocking her pelvis against his quickly rehardening cock. Because as much as she could kiss him all day out here in the breezy sunshine, she wanted more. And he had to know that.
    He pulled his mouth from hers. “You want me, Grace?”
    “You know I do.” She reached between them to stroke his cock. “Give it to me.”
    He grasped her wrist and pulled it behind her, latching onto her mouth again and driving her crazy with a kiss that was filled with passion, with promise. It was meant to torment, to seduce, but she was well past the point of foreplay. She needed him inside her. Having his cock in her mouth, swallowing his taste—such an incredibly intimate act, it made her yearn to get closer to him—closer than even this. And he was keeping her from it.
    She whimpered against his mouth, tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go. Passion erupted as a violent force. A new game—one of force and take—one she was more than willing to play. She tore her mouth away. “Let me go.”
    He didn’t. Instead, he rolled her onto her back, pinning her there with his strength. “You don’t really want me to let you go.”
    Arousal fired her nerve endings. She searched for a vulnerable spot, finding his hand near her head, and bit down on it. He growled, but didn’t release her, instead pulled her arms above her head and lifted her sweater, exposing her bra. Without preamble he bent down and captured the peak of one breast between his teeth, nipping at the quicklyresponding nipple through the thin fabric. It hardened, an exquisite sensation shooting between her legs and dampening her further.
    But she struggled, trying to throw him off—a senseless effort, but fun nonetheless. Who knew that trying to fight against him could be so incredibly arousing? She tried not to laugh, but it was difficult, especially considering how easily he held her down. With any other man she’d be scared to death. With Mike, she knew it was just a game. If she got serious about it and asked him to stop, she knew he would.
    She sure as hell didn’t want him to stop. She was stimulated beyond the ability to think rationally. Instead, she bucked up against him, inflaming her senses and, apparently, his. He tore at the button and zipper of her jeans, jerking the denim down her thighs and to her ankles. He dragged her to a sitting position, with one hand holding both her wrists together, and pulled her boots off, then her jeans, pushing her to the ground again. She continued to struggle against him to no avail. He was really strong.
    Once he had her pinned, he palmed her sex through her silk panties. “You’re wet.”
    “I am not,” she protested.
    “You need to be fucked.