Razor's Edge - Sylvia Day Page 0,8

wall, his hands slid down past her waist to her hips, his knees bending as he moved lower. He kissed the moist spot between her breasts. “This inch.”

His tongue followed his downward path, licking along the center of her stomach to dip his tongue in her navel. “And this one.”

When he gripped her buttocks in each hand and pulled her hips forward, electricity raced across her skin. He nuzzled against her bare mound. “Definitely this one.”

“Jack . . .” She didn’t know how she’d survive it if he put his mouth on her. She didn’t know how she’d survive if he didn’t.

“Hold yourself open for me,” he ordered, his voice husky. “Let me see you.”

Her gaze locked with his. Although he spoke with command, there was a softness to the way he looked at her that prevented shyness or second guessing. Inhaling deeply, she reached down and exposed her pussy . . . and so much more of herself than he could possibly know.

five

“Very pretty.”

The admiration in Jack’s voice flowed through Rachel in a warm rush of pleasure. He blew a gentle stream of air over her and she whimpered.

“And so sensitive,” he murmured. “Your clit is peeping out at me, greedy thing.”

“Tease,” she accused.

“Teases don’t deliver.” Licking his lips, he leaned in. “I’m going to make you come so hard the neighbors will hear you.”

He paused for an endless second, making her wait. When she was about to scream, he stroked the flat of his tongue across her. Biting back a cry, Rachel fought to remain standing. Her hands shook as she kept herself spread for him, her knees threatening to buckle.

“You better hold on to me,” he warned darkly, then he dove full force for the aching flesh between her thighs.

Wielding the point of his tongue like a lash, Jack caught the tip of her distended clitoris and fluttered over it with lightning quickness. She climaxed with a low moan, the orgasm tearing through her senses with a force she never knew she could withstand. Her body was wracked by violent shudders, her toes curling painfully into the hardwood floor.

And he didn’t let up. His grip on her ass tightened and he tongued her like a man possessed, his hungry growls throwing her headlong into a second climax directly on the heels of the first. Incited by his wildness, she caught his head by the sweat-dampened roots of his hair and rode his working mouth. She took what she needed, grinding against his wickedly skilled tongue. Shameless in her pleasure, she didn’t care who heard or saw her. The only thing that mattered was Jack and what he was doing to her.

When the rush ebbed, it took all of her energy with it. She sagged into the wall, gasping for air and trembling.

Jack stood and lifted her over his shoulder, then turned back toward the couch. When she regained the ability to speak, she was going to tell him again how hot his caveman tendencies were to her. Or maybe she’d just show him . . .

He sat her down on the armrest of the couch and stepped between her knees. With a hand behind her head, he urged her backward, balancing her so that her torso hung suspended over the cushions.

With no leverage whatsoever, Rachel could only accept what he gave her—the teasing glide of his tongue along the seam of her lips . . . the nip of his teeth at her jaw . . . the questing of his fingers as they parted her again and pushed through oversensitive tissues . . .

“Jack.” Rachel caught him by the belt loops, arching helplessly into his grip.

His fingers curved upward inside her, stroking, searching. She writhed, her abdominal muscles so tense they cramped. The anticipation was a torment all its own, as was the illicitness of their location. The couch was set in front of the sliding glass doors to take advantage of the ocean view. The slanting moonlight ended at the base of the sofa, only an inch or two away from the shadows where Jack fucked his fingers into her.

“There.” His mouth curved wickedly as he tapped against her G-spot. “Let’s see what happens first: I make you come, or you get into my pants.”

Rachel really wanted to win. She wanted to see what he looked like, what he felt like. But she was a mess. Emotionally. Physically. And he had a head start. As she fumbled to rip open his button fly, he pressed