I grinned, capturing her mouth as she melted into my arms. She surrendered to a dark and sensual desire that blinded her to the dancing, the music, the club, and the audience of people now recognizing Jack Carson and the beautiful woman he seduced in the darkness of the VIP section.

"You want to know if it'll make you bad if you were f.u.c.ked, seeded, and taken by a man like me?"

"Yes."

I lowered my voice, hungry for her wanting body.

"Let's find out."

Chapter Nine Leah.

I'd never have him inside me fast enough.

We crashed through his house, striking the walls and upsetting paintings, slamming the door and knocking over end tables and decorations. Nothing mattered so long as we touched each other, held each other, shed shoes and clothing on the stairs.

Jack and I fell onto his bed, arms entwined. Our mouths parted only to breathe unspoken words and draw each other closer. Our tongues flicked back and forth in a frantic blitz to prove how much we wanted this.

I never knew I could need a man this badly.

Not even in my wildest fantasies had I envisioned such pa.s.sion. Was s.e.x always this desperate? What I once considered lovemaking-the polite and apologetic thrusts under the sheets-was completely and utterly wrong. This was something ragged and feral. We burst upon each other in a crazed delirium.

Jack promised the night of unrepentant pleasure.

I believed him.

And I longed to experience it.

My life had been so structured, so planned, so deliberate that I never allowed myself any pa.s.sion. That thrill of discovery was lost, buried under years of repression and work.

His hands gripped my body, pulling me to him, demanding that I surrender to his kiss.

I didn't know this type of wild and aching s.e.x existed.

Jack was c.o.c.ky. He was arrogant. He realized how undeniably s.e.xy he was, but he hadn't seduced me. I seduced myself. I owed myself one night of perfect, animalistic desire.

Jack would give it to me-and so much more. The words he said twisted inside me, tightening everything already too raw to unbind.

He said he'd f.u.c.k me. I wondered how it'd feel to be thoroughly ravished.

He warned he'd take me unprotected. It only excited me.

I craved the feeling of skin against skin. It was dangerous to f.u.c.k his bare c.o.c.k. We knew what would happen. We agreed to it. We understood it.

We wanted it.

He'd take, he'd claim, and I'd love every second of it. This wasn't just s.e.x. This primal instinct blended a natural craving with submission and dominance and pleasure. The night would destroy us and create us and lose us within the l.u.s.t of our own unconfined desires.

Our clothes ripped off. Jack tossed me against his bed with such a fierce and virile pride it was like he planned this conquering from the first time he saw me.

Did he know how reckless we'd become within each other's arms?

"G.o.d, I want you," he grunted.

"Not as bad as I want you."

Jack tore my panties from my legs. The dress was lost somewhere in the stairs. I waited beneath him. Naked, sweating. His lips burned my already heated skin.

His voice pinned me to the bed. "I've wanted you since the first day I saw you. You're the only d.a.m.n reason I even signed a publicist."

"You needed me."

"Maybe." He peeled his shirt off. "Didn't you notice? Every time you rejected me, I acted out. Caused a new scandal. f.u.c.k, Kiss. The more trouble I got in, the more often I got to see you."

My tummy flipped. "But you made my life miserable."

"You tortured me more."

I felt like I could be honest with him while naked. I'd reveal my body and the innermost thoughts to a man who would soon control them both.

"You made everything so hard for me," I said.

Jack seized my nipples in his mouth. His lips sealed over the tip. "Speak for yourself."

I shivered. His tongue swirled over my nipple, hardening the bud, sucking to earn a squeal and then a moan and then a dozen more shivers.

His hands gripped me as if I would dare to bolt. I didn't have the strength to pull from the bed, not while he seized my nipple and suckled to watch me squirm. I demanded more of his mouth, his touch, his body. His tongue flicked over my breast and every little nip earned my squeal. He liked that. He bit harder and I tried to flinch away.

It was useless.

Jack was a monster of a man. Covered in tattoos. Tensing with muscle. Grinding a c.o.c.k impossibly hard and frighteningly large against my leg. He flexed as he held me down, revealing the chiseled definition of his body.

This man was a G.o.d.

I never saw, never touched such muscle. He positioned his body over me, steady. His biceps didn't tremble as he supported his entire weight. He leaned over me, and one thing was absolutely certain.

He was stronger, s.e.xier, more confident than any man had right to be.

And he knew it.

That was why his c.o.c.k was so hard. That was why he feasted on my body, why his kisses edged from nipple to nipple. They layered a heated path from the underside of my breast to my navel. Then, finally, they descended where he had already claimed with his mouth twice before.

I wetted for him. Too much. Embarra.s.singly so. I pa.s.sed ready and lost myself in desperation. My hips arched to meet his mouth, and the strike of his tongue against my c.l.i.t rendered me useless, weak, and rattled with shivers.

"So sweet." Jack murmured. He unbuckled his pants, but his lips never left my p.u.s.s.y. He licked and sucked and enjoyed me. "I want you to come for me."

G.o.d, I came every time Jack touched me. Every time I thought about him. When I fantasized about him. At night, I touched myself imagining being stripped and at his mercy. In my bed, I'd traced my fingers in my slit and imagined the stroke of my hand was his exploring tongue within my petals.

And now I had him again, just where my body needed.

But his tongue wasn't enough this time. I whimpered. He understood. Jack spread my legs and surveyed my nudity. Every moment of his gaze was endless praise, and I never felt so desired.

He licked his finger and stared at me. I gasped as he poked my slit, exploring my tight entrance. I held my breath as he pushed within me.

"Tease..." I whispered.

The touch only heated me more. His finger became something for my body to clench. I imagined it was his hard c.o.c.k, fantasized about the torrent of c.u.m he promised me.

His lips wrapped around my c.l.i.t as he thrust with his finger-in and out, rubbing every inch of my delicate core. He hooked his finger and teased a rough spot.

"f.u.c.k, you're tight..." he growled. "Think you can fit me in this tiny p.u.s.s.y, Kiss?"

"Oh, my G.o.d..." I gripped the bed. Nothing had ever felt like this before.

Jack laughed as my body clenched him harder. My hips bucked. G.o.d, he was killing me. My hands ached to feel more than the sheets. I had to touch him, and not just his shoulders or teasing through his hair. I hadn't seen the trouble he packed between his legs yet.

I deserved to know what would thoroughly destroy me when he finally took me for his own.

I whimpered, a combination of my own desire and timid curiosity. "Can I taste you?"

Those were the words Jack "Play-Maker" Carson lived to hear. He groaned as he pulled from my slit, but he moved fast. His pants kicked away, and he unleashed exactly what my body craved.

His c.o.c.k jutted from between his legs. Proud. Impressive.

Almost frightening.

The tattoos on his chest didn't end at his hips. They wrapped around, coiled him in bands of color and words. The tribal markings swirled over his waist and edged angrily, deliberately, around his c.o.c.k.

G.o.d, what kind of man would risk a tattoo so near there?

What man actually wanted a tattoo so close to that sensitive area?

I knew that answer. The only man who would tattoo his c.o.c.k was the playboy who planned to show it off.

That meant I was probably in trouble.

I was starting to like trouble.

Jack gripped me, tossing me over his body as he rested on the bed. He aimed me for that pulsing, thickening c.o.c.k as my legs straddled his head. My stomach flipped. I never exposed myself like that before.

My fears dissolved as soon as his mouth regained his conquering of my slit. He seized my c.l.i.t and enslaved me with his tongue.

My body jerked and shook and sweated. His thick c.o.c.k hardened just for me. I captured it with a tentative hand, wrapping my fingers around the solid base. There was no way he'd fit this inside me. His c.o.c.k was too big, almost villainous and intimidating. I could only imagine how full I'd be once it slid into my core.

Forced inside me.

Rutted through me.

I groaned and ran my tongue along the hot flesh, tracing a thick, pulsing vein and earning his grat.i.tude. The m.u.f.fled growl vibrated between my legs. His tongue slipped inside as the head of his c.o.c.k popped into my mouth. The salty skin drove me wild, and I moaned like a wanton little wh.o.r.e over the taste of his c.o.c.k.

Masculine. Clean.

Delicious.

What should have scared me only turned me on. I loved the weight of his c.o.c.k in my hand, the heat, the unbelievable size. I'd savor every inch in my mouth if only to prepare my body to take the same inside my p.u.s.s.y.

Bare.

"f.u.c.k, Kiss." His whisper enthralled me. "Holy s.h.i.t. Suck me like that."

His tongue worshiped me, scorching the delicate skin with the rasp of his breath and tying me into a knot of absolute need. I took as much of his c.o.c.k into my mouth as I could. It prevented me from begging. He promised my c.l.i.t the same pleasure as I whispered to his heated shaft.

I couldn't hold back. His hardness and heat stole my mind, and the vulgarity of exposing my most intimate secrets to him overwhelmed what remained. My o.r.g.a.s.m crested violently, as if he had struck me. I swallowed his c.o.c.k and muted my cry with his thick flesh. The swirls of his tongue delivered me to a perfect agony. He suckled my c.l.i.t and prepared me for the thrill of something far better.

I cried his name. He couldn't hear me with my mouth stuffed full of c.o.c.k. It was the most gratuitous, most sinful thing I'd ever done, and I came again and again at his will, because of his lips, in praise of his tongue.

My peak crashed me against his body, and Jack seized control. He tossed me off of him, forced me onto the bed, and spread my legs.

He saw everything.

My trembling.

My wetness.

My exposed and wanting p.u.s.s.y, needing his c.o.c.k to slam me full of his seed.

He stared at me, watching as I convulsed and my breath pleaded with him in ragged gasps. His muscles tensed as if he fought himself. His broad shoulders and biceps tightened. Every tattoo on his arms flexed.

We pa.s.sed l.u.s.t and entered into a world of raging instinct. His inherent desire to dominate and seize trapped me between right and wrong and natural submission.

He spread my legs and settled between them. My puffy, swollen slit begged to be filled with his entire length. I shivered in the remnants of my o.r.g.a.s.ms, blinking away the dark halos that threatened my vision.

I couldn't breathe. I didn't care.

I couldn't move. There was no other place for me in the world.

Jack's appraisal of my body manifested in the tightening of his c.o.c.k. It glistened from my attention, and he fisted it in his hand. He grunted with a dangerous arousal.

"Last chance to turn back," he warned.

I licked my bottom lip, tasting where he bit too hard. "I'm not scared."

"As soon as I shove my c.o.c.k in you, I'm not pulling out."