off. She kissed her way down his shaft and across his tight balls, tongue going on a little foray that had his teeth coming together and a moan escaping.
Hell. He didn’t know he could fantasize that well. His imagination could never have taken him over the way her mouth was doing. She did little figure eights back up his rigid shaft and suddenly engulfed him, suckling, drawing the ragged breath from his body. Her mouth tightened again, sucked and tormented, this time sliding slowly down him almost to her throat. Electricity sizzled along his thickening cock. He was so hard he thought he might explode, but he didn’t-couldn’t-stop her.
It was more than the sensations her mouth created, it was her enjoyment, the obvious pleasure she took in loving him. He felt it in her-there was no faking it, and Briony was definitely enjoying herself. More than enjoying herself, she was getting hot and wet, her hips moving in an automatic rhythm to the glide of her mouth.
Her tongue lashed him with heat, circled, and probed, and then she was suckling again, and he couldn’t stop the streaks of lightning racing through his body, or the need to take control. His hands fisted in her hair, pulling her head back to just the perfect angle so he could watch as he thrust deeper into her mouth, so he could take over the direction and pace.
She hesitated, and he tasted the fear in her mind at the loss of control over the situation.
He wanted to savor this moment, keep it in his memory for all time, but it was far too late, she was stroking his sac, gripping the base of his shaft as he thrust deep, and he felt the fire race up his spine and spread, spread hot and searing through him, until he was exploding, yelling hoarsely, as his shaft erupted in hot, spurting jets. Even then he couldn’t let her go, holding her to him, so that he honestly didn’t know if she was suckling him dry or he was forcing her to accept him.
Briony choked and then swallowed, her gaze holding nothing but longing, shy sensuality, a lingering doubt that she hadn’t pleased him. Acceptance of who he was. His peculiar need to dominate and control every situation. There was no distaste, or repugnance, not even a shadow lurking in her mind-only her wanting to give him pleasure.
Anger at himself, despair, shot through him.
Briony moved, sliding out of the bed, away from him. He heard her in the bathroom, the running water, the pad of her bare feet as she returned and stood by the window, drinking slowly. “You’re so silly, Jack. You’re not supposed to have control when you have sex; isn’t that the point? I wanted to drive you wild, feel you crazy for me, for the sensations I can bring you. That was the idea. I’m not fragile. I have the same tremendous drive that you do, the same pheromones, the same terrible hunger for you. For me, it was wonderful and exciting and very, very sexy. The feel of your hands on me, holding me to you, knowing I’d taken you over the edge, it was perfect.”
His arm dropped down and he looked at her, eyes glittering silver in the moonlight. “Do you have any idea the things I want to do to you?” His voice was rough, already thickening with lust. “Whitney’s potent brew, my feelings for you, and my need for constant control are a bad combination.”
“Maybe they’re a great combination-did you ever think of that?” She sat on the window ledge and sipped at the glass of water. “Maybe you’re just afraid because the pull is so powerful. Maybe you need to control everyone and everything in your environment because you’re afraid to lose them, afraid of being hurt. Guess what, tough guy, everyone loses people, everyone gets hurt-its part of life.”
“Afraid?” He sat up, eyes narrowed and dangerous. His erection was back, and it was as heavy and as painful as before-as if the combined scent of them was a drug that filled him with a raw, aching hunger that couldn’t be assuaged. “Look at me. Do you think this is normal for me? I’m shaking I want you so damned much.”
“And that’s a bad thing? Jack.” Her voice caressed him, whispered over his skin until he swore he felt her mouth on him again, her breath. “You think I’m not feeling the same way? Empty and unfulfilled? So wet I can feel cream dripping along my thigh.”
Jack raked both hands through his hair, a groan escaping at her words. “Damn it, don’t say things like that. I want to be buried balls deep in you, and if you tempt me… ”
“Am I supposed to never have anything or anyone for myself because of a little fear? I’ve lived with fear my entire life. You just deal with it, Jack, you don’t let it conquer you.”
“I’m
“The way you do Ken? Has it ever occurred to you that you don’t want someone to love you because then you’d have to accept a little protection back? Ken would die for you-nearly did die for you-and that’s not acceptable, is it? Only you want that choice, but life-and relationships-don’t work that way. Ken is part of who you are, but even then, you don’t like to relinquish control to him, do you?”
“You’re going to get yourself in trouble, Briony.”
“Why? Because you can’t take the truth? You want me on your terms. You want me to stay and accept you as you are, but you’ll be damned if you’ll accept me for who I am. I’m a woman with my own needs. I’m not going to let a little fear stand in my way-especially if the experience is pleasurable.”
“You have no idea what my needs are, Briony, what you’re asking for.”
“I’m asking you to love me, Jack. If you can love me and accept me for myself, I can do the same for you. I can give you anything you need. I don’t want to be here, forcing you to give up your life for me because we happen to have made a baby together. And I’m no martyr to give up my life for you with nothing in return but protection.”
Jack spread out his hands, palms up. “This is it, Briony. This is me loving you. I’ve never felt for anyone else-or wanted anyone else-in my life the way I do you. I don’t know how to romance a woman, or how to be gentle or tender… ”
She shook her head. “You’re so sad, Jack. You’re very romantic and gentle and tender. You don’t see yourself at all.”
“
How the hell did he know what love was? Obsession-yes. Domination-yes. But love? Looking at her hurt. Did that count? Wanting to keep her safe-watch her smile, watch her eyes light up when she saw him. What the hell was love?
“I scared you when I took control. You couldn’t stop me and you knew it. I saw the fear in your eyes, felt it move in my mind and I couldn’t stop, couldn’t let go and give you control back.”
“Of course there was fear. I was doing something I’d never done before, but it was part of the excitement. I trust you, Jack, more than you trust yourself. You were in my mind, I felt you there, guiding my actions, and you knew I was loving every single minute of what I was doing. The fear doesn’t matter-it never has. When you took control, I felt more powerful than I’ve ever felt in my life. More beautiful and sexy and hot. I wanted you so much and I wanted to make you feel exactly the way you were feeling.”
He watched her throat work, watched her swallow. Even that small ordinary action was sexy to him. His skin was too tight for his body and his blood pounded in his groin. Hell yes, he was afraid. If he let her all the way in, and somehow, someway, the ugly shadow of the man who sired him-who hid deep inside where he never wanted to look-was let out, he would destroy the one woman who mattered to him. He was too weak to drive her away. He’d had her now, and the thought of endless days and nights without her was too much to bear.
“Take off your top, Briony.” His voice had gone husky, but carried the ever-present command in it. He couldn’t change that even if he wanted to.