Читать книгу Command Performance - Sara Stone Jane - Страница 13

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MAGGIE WATCHED HUNTER slip out of the car and walk around to open her door, offering his hand as he helped her out.

It was now or never. She could still turn back. But her body, her desire took over, and she placed her hand in his. Her gut told her this man could deliver. She was safe with him.

Following him through the side door and down the red-and-gold carpet to the elevator bank, Maggie pushed aside her doubts and fears. He was in control now—of her, her orgasms, everything. She could just let go.

He held the elevator door. “After you.”

She stepped inside. There was no turning back now. She bit her lip as desire pooled in her belly and rushed lower.

“Maggie.” He stepped toward her, pressing her against the mirrored back wall. “I’m going to kiss you now, and you’re going to let me.”

The door closed and his lips caught hers, a gentle brush, then hot and hard, his mouth devouring hers. This time he wasn’t asking permission, he was taking and blazing the trail for his body to follow. She felt his hips press against her, his hands wrapping around her waist, holding her in place. His mouth left her wanting and wet, and his insistent body had her flexing her hips, returning the pressure. If she had any lingering uncertainty, it fell away, discarded on the elevator floor. And if they didn’t get to his room soon, she feared her clothes would follow.

He pulled away slightly. “More, Maggie?”

She groaned and, leaning back against the mirrored wall, offered him access to her body. Touch me there, she thought. But she couldn’t say the words, not yet, not here. In the elevator.

“Someone might see us,” she mumbled.

“They might. Is that part of your fantasy?”

“No,” she managed, still mesmerized by his touch.

“Then we better get you to the bedroom.” His hand moved from her waist to the back of her thigh, leaving a trail of sensation. “Up you go.”

He guided her leg upward until it wrapped around his waist. Then he lowered his other hand to her butt and lifted her off the floor. His lips found hers and he ground into her, pressing his hard length between her thighs.

The bell dinged and the door opened. Breaking the kiss, he turned and carried her out of the elevator and into the hall. Maggie closed her eyes and tried not to think about the grandmothers who might be wandering the hotel in search of ice. Instead, she ran her lips over his neck, nibbling the same place that he’d kissed earlier when she’d been pressed up against the car. Still holding her with one hand, he made his way along the hall. When he stopped, she felt herself pitch forward.

“Don’t drop me,” she said, drawing back to look at his face as he regained his balance and slipped his hand into his back pocket. His fingers brushed her calf in the process and Maggie squeezed her legs tighter. This man—he made her want and feel things she had thought out of her grasp. But here he was delivering them.

“We’re here.” Hunter smiled and slipped the card into the electronic reader.

He carried her into the room, kicking the door shut behind them before setting her on the bed.

“Take off your shirt,” he said, standing over her, his dreamy eyes watching her with a wicked glint. “I’ve been dying to see your breasts since you sat down at my table.”

Maggie had always been a rule follower, but occasionally she’d allowed for some creative interpretation. This was one of those times. Reaching for the bottom of her shirt, she ever so slowly began to lift. Inch by inch, she felt the cotton drift up over her belly.

Standing at the edge of the bed, Hunter stared, his eyes fixed on her hands, his chest rising and falling faster with each inch of skin she revealed. She watched his hands form tight fists at his sides.

“Higher,” he commanded, his tone raw and deep.

Loving how she affected him, she drew the fabric up and over her breasts, feeling the soft tickle as her shirt teased her erect nipples. Arching forward, she silently begged him to claim her. He didn’t move. Maggie pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Her nipples hardened further and her breasts ached to the point where if he didn’t touch her soon, she might need to take matters into her own hands—literally.

“In my fantasy, I wasn’t the only one undressed,” she said softly, not wanting to strip away his control, but needing to see what lay beneath his clothes.

“I’d hate to fall short,” he said, never taking his eyes off her chest.

“Impossible,” she murmured as he pulled his green polo over his head and tossed it to the floor.

Her jaw dropped as she drank in the sight. Biceps that begged to be squeezed, broad shoulders, perfectly defined pecs that tapered off to a narrow waist—she’d wanted muscles and, heaven help her, he delivered, with a body that would put most male underwear models to shame. Maggie dug her fingers into the bedding to keep her hands from reaching out and touching his six-pack abs.

Her gaze followed the dark hair from below his navel to where it disappeared beneath where the waistband of his jeans hugged his hips. More. She wanted to see more of him. But she couldn’t ask. She’d placed him in charge.

Forcing herself to look up, she saw the scarred flesh around his recent gunshot wound. It wasn’t the only marking on his otherwise perfect body. Unlike most underwear models, his torso featured a jagged four-, maybe five-inch scar on his right side. But that one looked old compared to his shoulder wound. Both were vivid reminders of who this man was. A battle-worn soldier. Who knew what type of damage he had on the inside?

But not even that sobering thought could dim the hum of desire pulsing through her.

“My turn,” he said, his low, lusty tone drawing her attention away from his recent injuries. “Your jeans, Maggie. Now.”

This time, Maggie didn’t waste any time. She slipped out of her heels and stripped off her jeans, pulling her underwear with them. Her hands moved swiftly, with confidence, and she reveled in the way her whole body hummed with anticipation. She sat at the edge of the bed, her feet resting on the soft carpet and her back stick-straight. Naked and waiting. She counted to ten. If he didn’t move by the time she reached the magic number, she was reclaiming control, to hell with her fantasies.

Seven, eight, nine—

Hunter closed the gap and knelt by the foot of the bed, pushing her legs wide. Exposing her to his view. Maggie leaned back on her elbows. She saw the tension in his strong arms, his hands resting on her thighs, preventing her from closing her knees. She expected to feel embarrassed as he studied the most intimate parts of her body, but instead she became more turned on by the second.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze moving up to settle on her breasts.

The slowness, the waiting, the needing was more than she could take. She’d never been this close to exploding without a man buried inside her. Maggie whimpered.

The corners of Hunter’s lips hitched up as he leaned forward and caught her breast in his mouth. He took his time, sucking and running his tongue over her nipple, while his hand massaged her other breast. Pleasure pulsed through her entire body.

“I could stay here all night,” he murmured. “With my face buried in your breasts.”

“No,” she groaned. “Please, I need more.”

He looked up at her, his eyes promising she’d get what she wanted. “I thought I was in charge,” he teased.

“You are,” she gasped as his thumbs traced small circles on her nipples. “Just please don’t stop.”

Pressing her breasts together with his hands, he lowered his mouth and licked her cleavage before kissing his way back to her right nipple. Maggie cried out and rocked closer to him, eager to slide off the edge of the bed if that’s what it took to get him inside of her.

“Easy, girl.” She felt his words against her stomach as his mouth moved lower.

Keep going.

“Lie back and you’ll get your orgasm.” His breath tickled the curls between her legs and she obeyed, allowing his hands to push her up the mattress until her core was in the perfect position.

But he didn’t kiss her there. Not yet. He took his time, running his hands up the insides of her thighs until his fingers grazed her outer folds. Maggie was aching now, pushing her body into his touch.

“Let me look,” he demanded.

“Please,” she begged, unable to find more words to ask for what she needed.

He found her most sensitive skin and she gasped, desperate now. Gently, tenderly, he teased her, running his thumb in small circles over her.

“You’re so ready,” he breathed. “And I thought I’d have to work to deliver your orgasms.”

The hot, low sound of his voice nearly undid her.

“Not yet,” he said, withdrawing his hand.

Maggie groaned. She’d been so close. To stop now—it was torture.

“Tell me where you like to be kissed.” His lips brushed her inner thigh. “Here?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “No. Higher.”

“Here?” His tongue licked a path up her leg, stopping just short of where she needed him.

Maggie shifted her hips restlessly, but he held her firm.

“How about here?” His mouth skimmed her outer lips.

“Close, so close,” she moaned.

He released her hip and used his hand to spread her wide. “Here?”

“Yes!” she screamed. His tongue licked her entrance, then up to the sensitive spot his fingers had toyed with moments earlier.

Closing her eyes, she lost herself to the feel of him exploring her, slowly at first, as if he wished to learn her body. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made the effort to find what worked for her. Derrick never had. And then she forgot all other men. There was only Hunter, his mouth and his devilish hands. She cried out, trying for the word “yes” but only managing a high-pitched sound.

“Do you like that?” His finger pressed against her, but stopped before slipping inside. She moaned, arching up into his mouth. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she gasped.

His tongue swirled back and forth over her wet folds, pushing her further toward the edge. She was so close. But what if it didn’t happen? What if he’d gotten her this far, but couldn’t get her over the edge? His mouth closed over her most sensitive flesh and she felt his finger slip inside her as he sucked mercilessly.

And then, she fell.

The orgasm that had been building since she’d first seen him at the bar swept over her. Bucking her hips against his mouth, she waited for him to pull back, for the pleasure to end. But he only moved his tongue faster, sliding it down to meet his fingers before gliding back up. She went higher, her whole body tingling with take-me-to-heaven bliss.

And when she finally came back down, he was still there with her, his hands touching her, his mouth worshipping her. Maggie pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked down at him. She tried to think of something to say, but “you can stop now” seemed just plain wrong and “amazing” just wasn’t enough. Instead, she reached down and touched his soft brown hair.

Hunter lifted his head, smiling, his eyes filled with heat. He rocked back and sat on his heels, watching her.

She drew her knees together, allowing her legs to fall to one side, the pressure of her inner thighs against each other sending delicious aftershocks through her body.

“One down,” he said, rising from his crouched position at the foot of the bed. “Are you ready for another?”

* * *

“THERE’S MORE,” SHE WHISPERED. It wasn’t a question. Simply a statement issued with wide-eyed wonder.

“We’re just getting started.”

Hunter watched her blue eyes scan his bare chest. Had a woman ever looked at him with such earnest amazement? He reached for the button on his jeans and Maggie followed the movement, her lips parted. Wanting to draw this out, he paused, admiring the view in front of him—blond hair tousled, breasts that he knew for a fact overflowed his hands, shapely legs turned to one side, offering a view of her round backside. He wanted her, every inch, but the sexy yet innocent look on her face? That drove him wild. He needed to be inside her.

Without taking his eyes off her, he knelt down and quickly removed his boots. He stripped off his jeans and reached for the elastic band on his boxer briefs. All the while Maggie watched him. He paused. Condom. He needed protection. Now. Once he took off his shorts, there was no turning back.

He withdrew a foil packet from his wallet and stripped off his last piece of clothing. A soft gasp drew his attention back to the bed. Maggie stared at his hard-on. There was appreciation in that look and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“If you’re worried it won’t fit, I can assure you it will, but you can go ahead and say the words anyway,” Hunter teased.

“You’re huge,” Miss Maggie whispered.

“You certainly know your lines.” He tore open the foil packet and covered himself, then lay down beside her on the bed.

“Compared to my last—”

“Let’s not bring him in here right now. Just you and me.”

Running his hand up her thigh to her hip, he gave her a gentle push and rolled her onto her back. He kissed her, supporting his weight on his arms as he hovered over her body. “I can’t wait much longer,” he said against her lips. “I want you. Fast and hard.”

“Yes,” she gasped, arching up until her nipples brushed his chest.

Hunter leaned back and positioned himself at her entrance. He couldn’t wait. Next time, he’d make love to her slowly, but not now. The need was driving him wild. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this close to losing control with a woman. And one he’d just met? Never.

Her fingers touched his covered cock, wrapping around him as if she wished to help him find his way.

“May I?” she asked.

He nodded. Her soft voice made him throb as she guided him into her very tight heat. How long had it been for her? The thought floated through his mind and drifted away. God help him, Little Miss Maggie felt impossibly good. He began the familiar pull and push as her hips rose up to meet him thrust for thrust.

But missionary just wasn’t doing it for him. He wanted more.

“Turn over.”

Maggie opened her eyes and he watched as she processed his command. Reaching for a couple of pillows, he positioned them under her hips as she rolled. Kneeling behind her raised backside, he slipped inside and thrust. Deeply. And then he let go. Listening to her moans, her begging sounds demanding more, he knew she was on board and ready to come with him. He pounded against her, losing himself to the chaotic movements.

Beneath him, Maggie arched, taking him deeper still. And then she screamed, smacking the sheets with one hand as she begged for more. He’d never felt a woman come apart with such abandon. It nearly undid him. But he couldn’t let that happen. Not yet.

He leaned forward, releasing her bucking hips as he reached around to touch the spot he knew would skyrocket her to the peak of her second orgasm. And this time, he came with her.

* * *

MAGGIE ROLLED OFF the stack of pillows, taking one with her. Cuddling it against her chest, she closed her eyes and reveled in the orgasmic shock waves still pulsing through her body. She’d never had sex like that—wild, unrestrained—the way she wanted it. If she’d been home in her own bed, she might have thought she was dreaming. But she wasn’t in her empty mansion. The pillow against her chest belonged to the Marriott hotel. Nothing in this room, apart from her clothes, belonged to her, including Hunter. None of it was her responsibility.

She waited for the disappointment, but it didn’t come. Instead, relief snuggled up next to her. After tonight, after another round or two, she’d never see him again. She had a Toyota parked outside and she planned to use it.

Maggie sighed into her borrowed bedding.

“Give me that.” Hunter plucked the pillow from her grasp and tossed it off the bed. “You’re making me jealous of a pile of goose feathers.”

“I’m pretty sure these are synthetic.” Maggie wrapped her body around his, letting her head lie on his shoulder. He tensed beneath her. Opening her eyes, she saw him wince. The gunshot wound. She’d completely forgotten. She sat up. “Am I hurting you?”

“My shoulder aches sometimes, usually after a workout.” He sat up beside her on the bed. “And that was quite a workout.”

A warm flush crept up her cheeks. He’d given her everything she’d needed. It only seemed fair that she offer him something in return. “Would you like a massage? I’m not a professional. Not even close. But I’ll give it my best shot.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m definitely going to take you up on that. But first let’s order some grub.” Smiling, he flopped down on his back and reached for the hotel phone on the nightstand. “Turns out those nachos weren’t enough. I need to refuel. Up for a late-night snack?”

Maggie glanced at the clock. It was only ten. But if he was hungry, she could pick at something while he ate. “Sure.”

“Great.” He rolled to his side and pressed the button for room service. Maggie listened as he ordered two pasta dishes, a salad and a dessert. Then he asked the person on the other end to hold.

“Are you a vegetarian?” he asked her, his hand over the receiver.

“No, and no dessert for me.” If he was going to look at her thighs again after their “snack,” she didn’t want to wonder if hotel cheesecake had added an extra layer.

Suddenly self-conscious, Maggie went to the bathroom and found two plush robes while Hunter finished ordering. She wrapped one around her still tingling body and returned to the room to offer him the other. He took it without pointing out that he’d already seen her naked, or saying he preferred to remain unclothed. A perfect gentleman, she thought, except when he’d taken her from behind. Then he’d been pure animal.

She smiled. He would make some woman very happy one day, but not her. This man was too I’m-in-charge for her world. Maggie sat back down on the bed.

“So tell me, Maggie,” he said. She tensed, waiting for him to ask her about her work, or her home, or why she’d been on the prowl for a one-night stand. “What is your favorite Italian restaurant?”

Maggie laughed her relief. “The Olive Garden.”

He nodded, accepting her choice instead of demanding to know why a woman who could afford to eat at Mario Batali’s finest New York City establishments any night of the week would pick a chain.

“Mine’s this small hole-in-the-wall in Costa Rica,” he said. “I was down there on vacation a few years back, on the Caribbean side, when I found it. Had to walk down an unlit road to get there, but it was worth it.”

The food arrived and the conversation flowed. They talked about travel and vacations, but never work or home life. She told him how she’d fallen in love with Italy when she was seventeen and visiting on a school trip. He told her about his favorite Greek island, Antiparos. They talked until she’d devoured half the salad (he ignored the other half), a third of a meat-filled lasagna (he ate the rest) and a bit of the vegetarian penne.

He barely touched the wine he’d ordered, sticking mostly to water, she noted, before pushing the thought from her mind. Now was not the time or place to study his behavior or compare him to her father. Tonight was for pleasure, and so far, the evening had exceeded her expectations. Sipping her own glass of white wine, Maggie thought, This is the best date of my life. And it’s not even a real date.

* * *

BESIDE HIM ON the bed, Maggie leaned back against a mountain of pillows. Forget Greece, he had his very own goddess right here. Her loose curls rested on the plush robe. Take it off, he thought. I want to touch you again.

He drained the last of his water and set the glass on the room service table while Maggie described her dream vacation: Paris. He’d only met her a few hours earlier, and in reality he knew very little about her, but he still felt closer to her than he had to most of the women he’d dated in the past few years. And he wondered if it was because she didn’t try so hard. She wasn’t here to find forever or to prove they were a good fit. She was just here because she wanted sex. If the erection under his robe was any indication, it was about time for another round. But first, she’d promised him a massage.

Hunter rolled his shoulder. Sex mingled with half a glass of wine had dulled the ache, but it was still there. “About that massage, you still game?”

“Oh, yes.” She sat up, transforming instantly from relaxed beauty to take-charge woman. Little Miss Maggie reminded him of a Rubik’s Cube, her colors constantly changing. One minute her yellow, innocent side shone bright, then a row moved, adding a touch of brazen red. And when she came, hands slapping the bedding? That’s when all the colors mixed together.

Hunter shrugged out of his robe and flopped down on his stomach, turning his head to the side to watch Maggie. She set her wine on the night table and crawled across the bed. “I don’t think you can give a proper massage with your robe on.”

“Is that an order?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, ma’am.” The side of his mouth hitched upward. “If that’s what it takes to get you naked.”

Maggie laughed as she loosened the fabric belt at her waist and unwrapped her lush curves. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her full, perky breasts, enjoying the slight rise and fall with each breath she took. But when she shifted to straddle his lower back, he wasn’t left with a choice. Her hands touched his aching shoulder, gently, yet exerting just enough pressure to push away the pain. The rest of the world slipped out of reach, leaving behind Maggie’s hands, her heat grazing his lower back. When he died, if Hunter could have his pick of heavens, he’d return to this moment.

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes into the massage, the brazen Miss Maggie replaced her hands with her lips. Kissing and licking, she made her way down the center of his back, shimmying her wet core over his ass as she moved lower and lower....

He moaned.

“Roll over,” she whispered against his skin. “Please.”

Not caring who was in charge anymore, he obeyed, wondering if he would come the moment she touched him. Definite possibility. He opened his eyes and watched as she knelt beside him. Meeting his gaze as if she wanted permission, she asked, “May I?”

“Hell, yes.”

Her tongue licked the length of his shaft and his hips lifted up, demanding more. She gave it to him, wrapping her mouth around him. Her tongue swirled up and down, and Hunter dug his hands into the sheets. He swallowed a whimper when her lips rose to the tip. Then she wrapped her hand around one of his and lowered her mouth again. He closed his eyes and prayed the sensation would never end.