Janelle Denison - Wilde Thing

She groaned and trembled when he slipped two fingers beneath the edge of her panties and into the hot, wet folds of her pulsing sex and stroked her engorged flesh. She came immediately, biting her bottom lip as her release slammed through her in a pounding rush of sensation that nearly overwhelmed her with the pleasure of it.

But that one orgasm wasn't enough. Not when she could already feel a second one waiting in the wings, another wave of heat building, slowly cresting to a peak of desire.

"Steve, please," she begged.

He lifted his dark head and stared deep into her eyes as his fingers, wet from her, skimmed up to her hip and tugged on the side ties of her panties. "Please what?" he asked, his tone low and rough.

This particular fantasy had turned dark and forbidden, a naughty, shameless tryst that surprisingly turned her on, beyond the stimulant she'd been given. There was no reason to couch what she wanted and needed in a flowery request. Right now, she needed a hard, fast coupling for the pure sake of satisfaction.

"Fuck me," she whispered. A plea. A dare.

His restraint shattered, and instead of releasing the second tie on her panties, he ripped them off her hips, then shoved the scrap of fabric into his coat pocket. In a heartbeat, he released his shaft, plucked a foil packet from the bowl on the table next to them, and rolled the condom on.

Then he was back, curling his fingers under her bare bottom, pulling her forward, spreading her legs, and lifting her all in one smooth motion. Her thighs clamped against his hips, and he shoved forward, entering her in a long, hard thrust that impaled her to the hilt. The cry that escaped her throat was lost in the pulsating beat of the music drifting into the velvet room from the bar area.

With Steve standing in front of her, and with the dim lighting, all anyone could see was a couple in an erotic embrace, if they could see anything at all in the dark corner Steve had chosen. Anyone could imagine exactly what they were doing, but they were completely and decently covered-by her dress and the jacket he wore.

Which made the encounter that much more exciting.

She anchored her arms around his neck, locked her ankles against the small of his back, and felt the powerful muscles in his arms, along his shoulders, and in his buttocks Hex as he pumped into her. She welcomed this primal side to Steve, the way he could so easily lose control with her.

Burying her face in the curve of his neck, she inhaled his hot male scent. She bit his earlobe, dipped her tongue into his ear, and felt the clench of her inner muscles around his shaft as another orgasm beckoned.

"Oh, God," she rasped into his ear, poised on the brink of tumbling over yet another exquisite peak. "I'm going to come again."

"Yes." His breathing was hot and moist against her throat, labored; and with a hard, convulsive shudder, he let go and went over himself.

When the tempest was over, she sagged against him, felt him shift with her still in his arms, then gently lowered her feet back to the floor.

He met her gaze and tenderly brushed tendrils of hair off her cheek. "We got the information we came for, so let's get the hell out of here."

She couldn't agree with him more.

They took a cab home instead of using the company limousine, and as soon as they were inside Steve's place and made their way up to his bedroom, Liz was worked up all over again. She couldn't seem to get enough of him-a fantasy in and of itself, despite how furious Steve was at whoever had given her a sexual stimulant. But now all he could do was give her more of what she needed, and in the private haven of his bedroom, without an audience, he could do just that.

Heat against heat.

Flesh against flesh.

Heartbeat to heartbeat.

But she was going too fast, her movements anxious and aggressive as she pushed his coat from his shoulders, then began unfastening the buttons on his dress shirt. That came off in a frenzy, too, and then she was attacking the front closure on his slacks, trying to get those off him as well.

This was not how he'd imagined that their night together would end. Oh, he'd anticipated that they'd end up in his bedroom, but she was taking charge and aiming for mindless physical pleasure, and he meant to make this night one she'd remember emotionally. Because now that he had the information he needed to trace Rob, he instinctively knew this was his last night with Liz. Tomorrow would bring answers and possibly a firm lead on Valerie's whereabouts, and once Steve gave Liz the assurances she was searching for, she'd most likely end their affair, because she believed she wasn't ready for a relationship, that other responsibilities and obligations were more important than her own happiness.

And if tonight was all he had left, he damn well intended to make it a memorable one, in every way that mattered.

Gently grasping her wrists, he pulled her hands away from the front placket of his slacks. "Liz, slow down."

"I want you," she said urgently, and kissed his chest, ran her tongue up to one rigid nipple, and grazed the tip with her teeth.

He drew in a shuddering breath, tried to keep his thoughts from straying to her shameless attempts to distract him. "I want you, too." But his longing for her went deeper than surface sensations. He wanted her heart, her body, and her soul.

She looked up at him with eyes bright with desire, her skin flushed and feverish. "Steve, I need-"

He pressed his fingers over her warm, soft lips, cutting off her demand. "Shhh. I know what you need, and I gave you what you wanted back at the mansion." A hot, fast, wild coupling. "Now it's my turn to be in charge, and I'm going to make love to you. Slowly, leisurely, thoroughly."

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he brought her body up against his, holding her securely in his embrace. He caressed her cheek with his palm, felt her tremble with a renewed urgency, and lowered his mouth to hers. He calmed her jitters with a lush, deep kiss, tamed her frenzied passion with the slow, lazy stroke of his tongue against hers. Despite her attempts to quicken the pace, to devour him, he controlled her response until she softened against him.

When he finally felt that she was more relaxed, he loosened his hold and unfastened the top part of her halter dress. Letting the two panels of bright-red material fall open, he bared her from the waist up, except for the glittering diamond heart choker around her neck and the matching earrings winking in the room's lamplight.

"You're so, so beautiful," he whispered reverently.

He glided his lips along her jaw, and her hands landed on his chest, her nails lightly grazing his taut flesh. He swirled his tongue down the side of her neck and filled his palms with her generous breasts, and she released a long, blissful sigh. Dipping his head, he laved her nipples with his tongue, drew them into his mouth, sucking first one, then the other stiffened crest.

She cried out hoarsely and moved restlessly against him in a silent plea for more. Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him in place, encouraging a deeper pressure of his mouth on her breast. He gave her everything she wanted, but at his own leisurely pace, which increased her excitement, her need for him, just as he intended.

Slipping his hands into the waistline of her dress, he pushed the outfit over her hips and let the silky fabric fall to the floor at her feet. His large palms passed over her bottom, smooth and naked since he'd ripped off her panties earlier, and traced one of the straps of her garter belt down to the stocking hugging her thigh.

He pushed her back toward the mattress, made her lie down in the center of the bed and watch as he took off his shoes and socks, and stripped out of his slacks and briefs. Her gaze took in his erect, jutting cock, and she licked her lips and touched her fingers to her belly, teasing him, testing his restraint. Her green eyes were hungry, eager, and her body moved restlessly against the covers, as if her skin was too prickly to bear.

With a seductive smile, he crawled up onto the mattress from the foot of the bed and took off one of her strappy red shoes, then the other, and tossed both to the floor. He rubbed her feet and arches until she moaned with gratitude; then he unclasped her garter belt and slowly, leisurely rolled her stockings down her legs and off. Wanting to pamper her, he stroked her supple skin and caressed and massaged her thighs, her calves, and felt the tension drain from her limbs. Finally, her body grew pliant, her breathing deep and even.

He looked up the length of her, taking in her sweet, feminine curves, the sparkling entwined hearts she still wore around her neck and which claimed her as his, and the way she trusted him so implicitly with her body and her pleasure. If only she'd grant him that much trust with her heart and emotions.

He'd managed to mellow her for the moment, to decrease that rush of sexual adrenaline she'd been riding on, and when she opened her legs in invitation and whispered his name like a prayer, he felt something fierce and tender clench inside his chest and knew without question what that emotion was. Love.

He moved over her, fitting his hips between her spread thighs, crushing her breasts against his chest, and braced his arms on either side of her head so that they were face-to-face. Refusing to let her look away, he stared into her eyes, watched her expression as he slowly pushed inside her. Without the barrier of a condom, she enveloped him in a tight, slick heat that made him suck in a quick breath at the exquisite sensation of being one with her, without anything to separate flesh from flesh.

She gasped, startled, and with her palms braced against his shoulders, she struggled beneath him. "Steve… wait… stop." Panic laced her voice. "You didn't wear a condom."

He caught her pushing hands, stretched her arms above her head, and entwined their fingers so she was pinned beneath him. "You're on the Pill," he reminded her huskily, but knew that wasn't her main concern. She knew the significance of this joining, understood the sacrifice he'd made to forgo any protection on his part. "You feel so good with nothing between us. So hot, so silky soft and tight."

She closed her eyes and moaned as he thrust into her- long, slow strokes that increased the building pressure, the incredible, delicious friction. He kissed her lips, chased her tongue with his, and arched his hips high and hard, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist as he rocked against her sex. Then he stopped, lifted his head, and captured her gaze with his.

"Can you feel that?" he murmured, keeping his chest pressed to hers.

He watched the pulse at the base of her throat flutter, and knew she'd try to evade the answer. "Feel… what?"

"The beat of our hearts. Yours and mine. Together." He waited, letting her absorb their mingling heartbeats before laying his emotions for her out in the open. "And the love. Can you feel that, Liz?"

He expected her to deny her feelings for him, but the tears gathering in her eyes stunned him as much as her reply did. "Yes," she said in an aching, wistful voice, as vulnerable as he'd ever seen her before. "I can feel it."

It was time he offered her the ultimate commitment, and the declaration came much easier than he'd ever expected, and felt incredibly, perfectly right. "I love you."

He didn't wait for a response, because none was needed. He knew how she felt about him even if she didn't verbalize those emotions, and he'd left no doubts in her mind how much he cared about her.

He continued making slow, sweet love to her, letting his body worship hers, and gave her every reason to stay with him. For the night. Forever.

But by morning, Liz was gone, leaving behind the diamond heart earrings and necklace on his nightstand-one of many gifts she refused to accept from him.

Steve rubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw, more disappointed than surprised that she'd left sometime in the middle of the night without waking him or saying good-bye. It was a clean break, with no messy emotional issues or any argument for her to deal with-just as she'd spent years avoiding that same kind of confrontation with her cousin. And now she was living a solitary, one-dimensional life as a result.

***

The case was over. By one o'clock that afternoon, after speaking briefly with Liz on the phone and giving her his final report on her cousin, Steve closed the file he'd started on Valerie Clark and Rob Easton, satisfied with the knowledge that Liz's cousin hadn't been kidnapped or taken against her will. She was off enjoying a week-and-a-half-long holiday in Paris with a client she'd met through The Ultimate Fantasy.