More excited than he’d ever been with a woman, Dash stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. “Margo.”
She glanced up, then stood.
Dash stayed near the door. “Why aren’t you naked?”
She came to him, breathing fast, her gaze heated. She flattened her right hand over his chest, dragged it down over his pectoral muscle, down to the waistband of his jeans, then lower still to his throbbing cock. “I was waiting for you.”
* * *
HIDING HER SMILE, Margo took in the added signs of arousal in Dash’s face, how his nostrils flared, the color that rose on his high cheekbones.
Good.
One way or another, she was determined to push him. Yes, she enjoyed him being gently dominant. Actually, she loved it.
But even more than that, she wanted him. It was an odd realization, and the usual turn-ons still applied, but...anything with Dash was thrilling. Too thrilling.
She couldn’t take much more teasing, but he had a lot of catching up to do.
Dash caught her hand, pressing it hard to his erection. Still soft-spoken and far too composed, he said, “Take the panties off now.”
“You take them off for me.”
His lazy smile sent her stomach into a somersault. He touched her cheek, her lips. And suddenly he turned her so that her back was to his chest. His hands came around her, one at her br**sts, the other at the front of her panties.
“Did you enjoy your bath?”
“All three minutes of it.” Breathing wasn’t easy. She leaned back into him. “I kept thinking about what you wanted to do, and I want that, too. But tonight I just can’t take it.”
“As strong as you are?” His tongue touched her ear, then she felt his warm, moist breath. “You could take it.”
Oh, God. His fingertips teasing her nipple was arousing enough, his erection against her backside was enough to level her. “You’re too good at this.”
“This?”
“Foreplay.”
Still near her ear, he whispered, “Let me see for myself.”
Hot fingertips moved over the crotch of her silken panties, exploring, stroking. Putting her head back to his hard chest, she stiffened her legs and gave in to his touch.
“Mmm,” he murmured low. “You’re nice and wet. Were you in here thinking of me?”
“Yes.” As an invitation, she deliberately widened her stance.
Dash kissed the side of her neck, her shoulder. “I love you like this, Margo.” As he said it, he pressed his c**k to her rounded backside and at the same time he carefully pinched her nipple.
For so many reasons, she stiffened. Love? The use of that word sent panic into her heart. And the tantalizing tug on her nipple...
“You like that, don’t you.”
Very much. “Yes.”
He put his hand into her panties, his rough fingertips moving over her, opening her, testing her. “Do you think you can come standing up?” Not giving her a chance to answer, he added, “Let’s find out.”
Margo assumed he’d use his fingers, now damp from her, but instead he again turned her—and went to one knee.
Oh, God...
Without haste, he pulled her panties down her legs but didn’t give her a chance to step out of them. They remained around her ankles, hobbling her, making her somehow feel more exposed than if they’d been completely removed.
His absorbed gaze moved all over her. “Damn, I love it that you’re so small. It makes everything easier to reach.” Leaning forward, he licked her nipple while his fingers returned to playing between her legs, parting her, teasing back and forth in her slick moisture, then slowly pressing two fingers deep.
She couldn’t help but react, stepping back from the intense pleasure.
“No, none of that,” Dash whispered. Opening his other hand on her behind, he kept her close and pulled his fingers free, now glistening wet, to touch them to her nipple. “You want this, so don’t fight me.”
His breath brushed her skin seconds before he drew her nipple in, sucking gently but insistently. At the same time, he wedged his hand back between her thighs, then twisted his fingers deep again.
She was already so ripe with need that, between his mouth on her breast and his stroking fingers rasping her sensitive flesh, she felt the start of a climax building. She tightened, her body clamping down on his slippery fingers. “Dash...” she groaned.
“So soon?” Dash asked with sympathy and a bit of awe. “I guess I’d better get right to it, then.”
Margo didn’t know for sure what that meant until he began kissing his way down her body. Expectation held her breath; she knew he’d use his mouth on her and she was so very anxious for it she almost couldn’t stand it.
“You are so soft,” he said between open-mouth love bites down her ribs, over her belly, her hip bones. Sliding one arm around her waist, the other splayed over her backside, he held her still—and nuzzled between her legs.
Crying out, Margo locked her knees and held on to him. His hot, rough tongue stroked repeatedly over her, in her, then came up to curl around her clitoris with a hungry growl.
He gave only the slightest tug and she lost it, the orgasm crashing through her, stealing her breath and strength with an explosion of scorching sensation. She cried, and didn’t care. She clutched at him, and didn’t care. She pressed closer to his mouth, begging, and didn’t even realize it.
Seconds, maybe minutes later, she became aware of Dash lowering her boneless body into his lap, cuddling her close and kissing her hair, rubbing her back. Beneath her hip she felt the very solid rise of his impressive boner.
Astounding. Almost shocking. And so wonderful. She would have laughed if she’d had the strength.
Instead all she could say was “God.”
“Yeah,” Dash murmured, lust keeping his voice rough. “You’re f**king amazing.” He continued kissing her, his touch both affectionate and tender and hot.
Trying to catch her breath, she said, “That was...”
“I know.” He curved a big rough hand around her breast, his palm to her galloping heartbeat. He kissed her again, leaving his mouth pressed to her temple as he hugged her close.
“It was even better than before.”
“Good.” He kissed her neck, her shoulder.
“And to think I expected sex with you to be boring.”
Dash froze.
Margo realized what she’d said, knew she owed him an explanation, but at the moment she still struggled for air.
Levering her back a little, Dash studied her. “Boring?”
Damn her postcoital babbling. “Not boring exactly.” Her brain had a hard time catching up. “I didn’t mean that.” But never, not at any other time, had a sexual encounter left her so limp or affected her so strongly. She leaned in, but Dash turned his head.
“What did you mean?”
Putting a hand to his jaw, she brought his face back so she could kiss him—and tasted herself. She tucked her face into his throat, overwhelmed by his scent, his warmth. “I... You realize...”
“Tell me.” He scooted to sit up a little higher against the door, Margo held secure in his lap. “You thought I was a two-minute man? You thought I was a selfish pig? What?”
“No, none of that.” She tried to keep hidden against him but Dash didn’t let her.
Holding her shoulder, his expression enigmatic, his tone devoid of emotion, he said again, “Tell me.”
“I assumed you would be...competent—”
He laughed without humor.
“—but conventional, and maybe not up to my...preferences.” Preferences that she now realized didn’t matter, not with Dash. He could go for plain-old missionary and she thought she’d probably go wild with enjoyment.
He seemed to be considering that while studying her br**sts. With one fingertip, he circled her nipple, then, still in that flat way, asked, “Your arm is okay?”
“Yes.” The change of subject felt evasive, but she wanted to stay on track, to reassure him, to... What? Keep him interested? Was she really that insecure? That pathetic?
The possibility annoyed her enough that she scowled. “Stop asking already. I’m a big girl. If something hurts, I’ll take care of it.”
As if her acerbic attitude didn’t faze him, he looked at her quivering belly, then down between her damp legs. “Your body is still flushed.”
She didn’t understand him at all. “Like I said, it was an amazing climax.”
“So you feel better now? Less wired? More relaxed?”
Damn him and his impersonal interrogation. “Yes. I’m fine.”
“Good.” Suddenly he rearranged her, moving her off his lap and onto the floor as he stood. “I need to check our dinner.”
Her jaw loosening, Margo stared up at him. “Now?” He was still hard. And though she’d found release, she was far from done.
He touched his hand to the top of her head. “Yes—now. Get dressed and then come to the kitchen.”
Margo gasped. How dare he give her an order?
How dare he leave her sitting naked on the damned floor!
She had to scoot out of the way when he opened the door and walked out of the bedroom.
At first she felt hurt—and then her temper ignited.
Enough already. No way would she let him get away with this.
Why did he have the ability to leave her so befuddled?
Shoving to her feet, she snatched up the quilt from the bed and stalked after him. Voice raised and mean, she spoke to his retreating back. “What is wrong with you?”
Several feet ahead of her, without haste, Dash entered the kitchen and used a pot holder to remove the chicken from the oven.
Brows drawn, she stared at him. “Damn it, Dash.” She wanted him to react. She wanted to get a rise out of him.
“Stay back,” he told her as he set the heavy cast-iron skillet on the stove top. “I don’t want you to get burned.”
Because her legs were still shaky and weak, she dropped back to the wall. “You’re being impossible.”
Nothing.
She watched him turn the chicken and return it to the oven, then put on vegetables to steam. “Chicken is one of my favorites.”
“I know.”
Vaguely she remembered him questioning her during his routine check of her concussion. And now, knowing her preferences, he’d been considerate enough to cook for her.
She felt like the bitch others often called her. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
He turned to her. “Dinner will be ready in ten.” His gaze went over her. “You going to eat in that?”
Would it bother him? Unlike her, he hadn’t yet gotten his jollies. “Why not?” He might be pissed, but still her body kept drawing his notice. She liked that enough that she even let the quilt droop lower on one side until a nipple almost showed. “With this stupid splint it’s difficult to get a shirt on.”