Savor Me Slowly
Page 20“Hell, yes. Slowly and painfully. I’ll start by flaying the skin from his bones and I’ll finish with helping him bite off his own cock. Name. Now.”
Jaxon’s vehemence was like soothing balm to her corroded emotions. So many times over the years, she’d entertained the notion that her creators really had wiped her of her humanity. Now she could feel a well of tenderness, soft as butterfly wings. Yet the tenderness was actually killing her, she realized, breaking her down little by little, stripping her of the shell she needed to survive the cold world she lived in.
I’m cruel. I’m hard. I have to be.
Tears burned in her eyes.
With a groan, Jaxon dropped his head. His temple pressed against hers, the most comforting of touches. “Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry.”
“I’m not,” she managed brokenly. “I’m half machine. Sometimes my parts leak.”
He uttered a hoarse chuckle, but the dark humor didn’t last long. He pulled back and peered down at her intently. “We have until morning. I’ll think of something, okay? I won’t let you go with that man.”
Impossible. She knew that. “You can’t take me with you. My location can be tracked anywhere, anytime.” The very technology that made her nearly indestructible was also responsible for her agony.
“Well, I’m not leaving without you.”
If only. “Be reasonable.” One of them had to be, anyway, though she might wish otherwise. “We’ve known each other a few days. That kind of dedication is stupid.”
“Is it? And we’ve known each other a few weeks.”
“Yes, it is. And you were asleep for most of those weeks so they don’t count.”
“Well, I’m awake now so I’m going to make today count.” As he spoke, he leaned closer, so close his mouth almost touched hers. Almost. He remained a hated whisper away.
Suddenly panting, she licked her lips. Shove him off. You cannot afford to do this. “Sleeping together isn’t going to change anything.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But it will damn well make us feel better.” His warm breath caressed her nose, her cheeks.
A shiver danced through her.
He grinned. “I like it when you shiver.” His hands closed around her face, slowly, slowly, then he was cupping her jaw. “I want to make you forget every other man.” The silver in his gaze heated, steel being forged into something sharp and strong. “I want to make you like it.”
His voice was husky, a sensual promise layered with inexorable yearning. In that instant, resistance proved hopeless. She might not recover when they parted—so what. Thinking of him with other women in the coming weeks and being consumed by jealousy—no biggie.
Right now, the decision to be with a man was hers and hers alone. Yes or no, she decided.
There was freedom in that realization. There was joy. Hope that she could have something pure, something right. Lord, hope was a dangerous emotion. In the end, it might very well be hope that destroyed her. Still. She could be with Jaxon and she could belong, if only for a night. Tomorrow she could regret.
Yes, tomorrow she would worry. Tonight, she would live.
“You already know I like it with you. I’ve never minded your touch,” she told him softly. “I don’t know why.”
His pupils dilated, black nearly overshadowing silver. “I know why.”
“Well, clue me in.” Up, up traveled her arms, then they snaked around his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair. The silky strands were short yet long enough to tickle her knuckles.
He sucked in a breath as his cock jumped against her stomach. “Hold everything. I blacked out for a moment. What were we talking about?”
Surely not. Surely her lips were not lifting in a smile. Amusement in bed? How odd and amazingly wonderful. She rarely ever laughed. Rarely ever had reason to. Humor, like choice, was another thing that had been denied her, she realized. “You were about to tell me why I like to touch you.”
He was going to take his time, she suspected. He was going to treat this like it was her first time, just as he’d done with their kiss. She melted all the more.
Practically purring, he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. “I can’t think of the right words. I think I’m just going to have to show you.”
Please.
As though he’d heard her unspoken plea, he slowly lifted his head.
Their gaze locked together, fused by fire and need. Her nipples hardened further, rubbing against the soft material of her dress. Moisture flooded between her legs. Had she been standing, she would have fallen.
“Ready for me?”
Suddenly incapable of speech, she nodded.
One of his hands slid up her side, over her ribcage, and stopped at the curve of her breast. His thumb brushed back and forth, gentle, so gentle. She twisted slightly in an attempt to move that thumb to her aching nipple.
His lips were drawn over his teeth, tight and strained. His eyes were narrowed on her mouth. “If I do anything you don’t like, all you have to do is say stop.”
Swallowing, she found her voice. “I’ll like. Swear.” Never had she throbbed like this. Never had she felt less in control of her body, but she didn’t panic as she’d always feared. She reveled.
This was Jaxon. This was her choice.
“Spread your legs for me, baby. Wider.”
She obeyed, causing the hem of her dress to ride up to her hips. Jaxon’s long, hard cock pressed against her clitoris. She gasped. He moaned. In the midst of that moan, he finally, finally settled his lips atop hers. His tongue swept inside her mouth, hot and tasting of total passion.
When she met the erotic roll of his tongue with a roll of her own, he angled his head for deeper contact. So deep she felt him inside her fantasies. And as decadent minutes ticked past—more, I need more—his kiss became her only means of survival, feeding her body and soul, his breath filling her lungs.
“Your mouth is heaven, you know that?” he whispered. “And my God, your body…” He cupped the small globe of her breast. “Perfection.”
She’d been built for war more than seduction, so his words soothed a bruised feminine ego she’d always kept well hidden. Her creators had told her they’d weighed the pros and cons of big breasts and the cons had won. While men might think the bigger the better, big would have gotten in her way during fights and escape attempts.
Jaxon gently pinched her nipple, and she gasped at the heady sensation, a lance of pleasure speeding from the hardened bud to her wet, needy core.
“I have to see. Can I see?” His voice was strained, almost broken.
“Yes.”
After a final lick into her mouth, he rose. Inch by inch, he peeled the dress from her shoulders, collar, until the black material bunched under her bra. For several seconds, he simply drank in the dark lace against her flushed skin. Arousal glowed from his features.
“Next time, you’ll have to leave the bra on.” Now he sounded drunk. “The contrast of the black against your pale, rosy skin is living art. Exquisite.”
His praise, dear lord, his praise. But there wouldn’t be a next time. Couldn’t be. She said nothing, however, unwilling to spoil the moment. “What about this time? What are we going to do with the bra?”
“Has to come off.” He worked the clasp and drew the lace from her, freeing her breasts. The bra soared over his shoulder, and his eyes latched onto her puckered nipples. “So pink. So mine.”
“Yes.”“Last time, you didn’t like when I kissed them.”
“What?”
Normally she did not like attention to her nipples. “They’re too sensitive, too easily turned into pain receptors.”
“I’ll be gentle. I swear it.”
When his dark head lowered and his tongue softly flicked the tip of each peak, she found herself writhing against his erection. The heat. The intensity of the pleasure. Too much, yet not enough. She needed more.
Her nails sank into his scalp. “Don’t stop.”
“Won’t. Swear to God.”
“Lick again.”
His tongue immediately coasted over one before switching to the other, flicking back and forth. A moan escaped her.
“Like that?”
“More.”
Using teeth this time, he softly grazed them. Drew them into his mouth one at a time and sucked, applying just the right amount of pressure.
Again, she moaned. The ache between her thighs was constant now, not pulsing and offering her those few, sweet seconds of relief. No, there was no relief for her. Only desperation and fire.
“Jaxon,” she gasped.
“I’m going to strip you, baby. All right?”
“Yes, yes.” Please. She wanted his fingers inside her. She wanted him pumping, sliding, wanted them connected. She wanted him to be a part of her.
He fisted a handful of the dress, and she said, “I’ll help.”
“Hell, no. Grab the bedpost.”
“Wh—what?”
“Grab the bedpost.” He didn’t wait for her to obey, but gently clasped her wrists and lifted, curling her fingers around the rail.
In this position, her back was arched and her breasts were straining toward him.
He sat up, crouching on his knees. “So beautiful.”
When he looked at her like that, she felt beautiful. She didn’t feel like an object, a machine, a thing to be used. She was simply a woman.
He kneaded her breasts, thumbs moving over her nipples just as his mouth had done, before once again gripping her dress and shimmying it down her waist, over her legs. A moment later, it joined her bra on the floor.
Un-ziiip. He tossed one of her boots. A smile curled his lips when he spied the knives strapped to her calf. Velcro was pulled apart, blades removed, and a clink, clink sounded as they, too, were tossed onto the floor.
Un-ziip. Off came the second boot. Jaxon’s grin widened as he removed another cache of artillery. A gun, a throwing star, another blade. Clink, clink, clink. “How many weapons do you carry at a given time?”
“Will I find anything under those sexy little panties?” He glided his palms up her legs and sank his fingers underneath the waistband of the lace.
“Just me.”
He groaned. “You’re going to kill me. You know that?” With a tug, the panties were removed. He sucked in a heated breath, his gaze boring into her wet folds. “God, you’re hot.”
She gulped at the raw desire emitting from him.
He rubbed at the erection straining against his jeans. “Soon I want your hand here.”
“Take them off,” she commanded.
“Not yet. Moment they’re off, I’ll be inside you.”
She didn’t understand the problem. “That’s where I’d like you to be.”
His head fell back, and he released another groan. Without the magnetic pull of his gaze holding her captive, she was able to look down. His cock was so long and thick, she could see the swollen head peeking from his pants. Moisture glistened there.
“Jaxon,” she beseeched.
“Not yet.” He reached behind him and tugged off his shirt. His chest was tanned, his nipples tiny and brown, his stomach roped with steel. Only a slight smattering of dark hair and several white crisscrosses of scars marred the perfection, but she loved them. Her palms were tracing every line before she realized she had even moved.
“Your touch makes me burn,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve already proven I can come from it alone.” His tone held the barest hint of self-castigation. “I’m going to lick you with my mouth.”
“Please, yes. I liked making you come.” It had given her a sense of pride.
“I want to taste you. Will you let me?” As he spoke, he gripped her legs and raised them onto his shoulders. “Say yes.”
“Yes.” No hesitation. This was an act she had not allowed her targets to perform. Ever. There was something so personal about it, so intimate, even more so than sex. Jaxon, she wanted to do it. Was desperate to have him licking deep, tonguing her.
A heartbeat later, his tongue was on her, flicking over her clitoris. Her hips shot off the mattress and her hands tangled in his silky hair.
“So good,” he said, the words causing a vibration to shoot through her. “Like honey.”
Stars winked behind her lids. And when he slid a finger inside her, another teasing her other opening, she shuddered deliciously. His tongue never stopped working her, urging her toward satifaction, but never letting her come. Every time her body stiffened, about to fall over the edge, he paused, waited for her to calm, to still. Then he started all over again.
He used his tongue, his teeth, and even hummed to shoot more of those vibrations through her.
“Too much,” she finally gasped. Sweat beaded over her, she couldn’t catch her breath, and she was utterly desperate for release.
The strain was telling on him, too, but he said, “You can take more.” A second finger joined the first, stretching her wider. “I want you mindless. Thinking only of me.”
“I am.”
“Prove it.”
“Jaxon. Jaxon, Jaxon, Jaxon,” she chanted. My Jaxon. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">