His mouth covered hers in a searing kiss. No, he did more than cover her mouth. He devoured, consumed, possessed. Morgan opened to him, accepting the hungry thrust of his tongue, which delivered the spice of his taste and the heat of his need in a devastating dance of seduction. Her knees weakened in seconds. His passion had the kick of cayenne pepper, balanced with the sweetness of honey, caged in control of steel. Unique. Intoxicating. She moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the hungry sound.
Jack’s hands fell to her hips and grasped her, fitting her right against his jeans-clad erection. He gave her a nudge in the right spot, and her need spiked. The ache in her sex built. He pressed against her again, compelling Morgan to lift her leg to wrap it around his waist, opening her body to him in a silent plea.
He accepted immediately, taking her thigh and anchoring it over his hip, bringing him in perfect contact with her clit. Morgan grasped his bare, steely shoulders, hanging on while she felt dizzy with need.
Had she ever been this aroused? No. Ever wanted so bad she thought her blood would boil if he turned and walked away? No.
It was torture. It was bliss.
He continued to eat at her mouth, small nibbles of her lips, long swirls of his tongue against hers. Jack left no part of her mouth without his attention, his flavor. In desperation, she rubbed her br**sts against the hot, hard wall of his chest, threw her arms around his neck, and pressed deeper into the kiss.
When he eased his lips away from hers, she clung to him in protest. He lifted her arms away from him and anchored them to the door with a warning stare.
Their gazes connected, his dark with broiling need, compelling her to accept whatever came next. Her body too ravenous, her mind too entangled in his spell, to refuse. The breath seesawing in and out of his chest was her only indication that he wasn’t perfectly in control.
Pushing her flat against the door, Jack leaned in, his c**k grinding against her clit again. But now he bent to add a totally new sensation to the mix: his mouth around her ni**les.
Morgan arched up to Jack, not just eager to give him more, but aching to. He started with skillful suction, a teasing lick.
“Jack,” she protested softly. “Jack.”
“You know what to call me,” he warned, thumbs and fingers pinching her sensitive ni**les. “Until you come, I don’t want to hear my name fall from your lips again, cher.”
“Yes, sir,” she chanted. Anything to get her ni**les back in his mouth.
He rewarded her with hot suction over the peaks of her br**sts, first one, then the other. Back and forth. Over and over. Hot, swirling tongue, then tender bites that had her gasping and clawing.
For the first time ever, she could actually feel the blood filling her ni**les, swelling them.
With a last lick, he pulled back to look at his handiwork. “Very pretty. I should keep them like this always, slightly tender, a rosy pink, standing up and waiting for just one more touch.”
He closed thumbs and fingers around them again in a pinch that made her catch her breath. Then he twisted, just enough to make Morgan cry out—as the moisture gushed between her thighs in a fresh rush. Lord, she’d never been so sensitive, felt as if she might actually orgasm just from having her ni**les toyed with. She’d read it was possible but never believed it. Until now.
“Are you slick and hot for me?” he asked, his hot breath teasing her neck.
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jack swiped a pair of fingers down the valley between her br**sts, dragged them down her abdomen, her mound, then dove right into her wet heat. He grazed her clit, and she moaned against his mouth.
“Touch me,” she moaned.
“You don’t give the orders, cher. You take what I give you. No matter how I give it to you.”
“But—”
Jack took a step back, ending all contact. Morgan stared, wide-eyed. Bastard.
“We either do this my way, or we don’t do it at all. How is it going to be?”
“Damn it, you’re arrogant,” she said between gritted teeth as the ache and sizzle smoldered inside her.
“We’ve already established that. How is this going to go down, cher? Your choice.”
In the end, Morgan was too far gone, too curious about the heights he could take her to, to consider saying anything except, “Your way…sir.”