Controlled Burn

Chapter 4

"Take off your clothes." She barely recognized her own voice.

His smile was predatory. "Giving orders, are you?"

She twisted on the bed. "Please." She licked her lips. "I want to see you naked."

"Don't move," he ordered, "and you'll get your wish."

It took all her self-control to lie there, hands still pushed into the mattress, while he toed off his boots and shucked his clothes. If her mouth was dry before, every bit of saliva she might have had left dried up the instant he stood before her, tall and naked. His body was lean and tightly muscled, as defined as if sculpted from granite. Hair as dark as that on his head sprinkled his chest. Moving her eyes slowly down his body, she followed the path of sexy chest hair past his navel as it arrowed down to the nest surrounding his c**k. Oh, yes, his c**k. Tall and rigid and thick and swollen, the head a dark purple. A tiny bead of fluid atop the slit.

God, how she wanted to reach out for it, but the fire in his eyes stopped her.

"Hands in place," he reminded her.

He bent to her p***y again, tracing every inch of slick flesh with his ravenous tongue. When he slipped it inside her, she nearly convulsed again. Montana couldn't remember the last time a man had kept her so on edge, so hungry for whatever he chose to do with and to her.

With his hands on the backs of her thighs, he nudged her legs up until her knees practically touched her shoulders. Then he resumed licking and sucking and stroking. Pausing to wet his fingers with her juices, he then traced a line down between the cheeks of her ass to the tight-puckered opening there.

When he pressed on it lightly she nearly catapulted off the bed. Her ex had taken her there once or twice, but it had never seemed to turn him on, and his fumbling attempts had certainly done nothing for her. But this? This made her crave his big shaft thrusting into her, filling every inch of her back channel. She almost cried out in protest when he moved his finger away.

"If we ever get together again, I'm going to take you here." The guttural tone of his voice rolled through her, so hot she was sure it left ashes in its wake.

But we'll never get together again.

She closed her eyes, trying to pull the edges of her control together, when a sharp slap startled her. Her ass! He'd spanked her ass! She'd kept her hands where he told her to, but apparently he'd seen the lust flare in her eyes when he mentioned it.

He bent over her again, his mouth close to hers. "If we had more than one night, I'd spank your pretty ass until it turned bright red then f**k the hell out of it." When her breathing hitched, he smiled. "Oh, yeah. A treat for us to dream about."

He bent to reach his jeans, dug a foil packet out of his wallet, and ripped it open. She swallowed a grin as she saw his hands tremble while he sheathed himself. He was as turned on by everything as she was.

With his eyes locked with hers, he pushed her knees wide again, spread the lips of her p***y, and drove into her in one hard lunge. Holy crap! He filled every inch of her and then some. He drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and began to move-steady strokes, in and out, more, harder, faster. Feet planted on the floor, arms braced on either side of her, he stared into her eyes as his body moved in a steady rhythm.

"Touch yourself." His voice was so hoarse, she almost didn't recognize it.

"What? I-"

"Touch yourself," he repeated. "I want to watch you do it while I f**k you."

Unable to tear her eyes away from him, she slid her hand down to find her clit, soaking her finger in her own juices. Slowly she massaged it, the tremors in the walls of her cunt increasing with the stimulation. The climax unwound deep inside her, clawing to get out. She moved her legs to wrap them around his waist when he stopped abruptly, withdrew, and flipped her over.

Before she could get her brains together enough to ask him what he was doing, he positioned her on her hands and knees, grabbed pillows to stuff beneath her, and drove into her wet channel again.

Oh, god!

Lost in a haze of lust, she was conscious only of his hard c**k plunging in and out of her, the panting of his breath and hers, the increase in the power of his strokes driving her body back and forth. When she came, the force was so explosive she felt as if a giant fist were shaking her body. Her p***y clamped down on Mr. Hotstuff's c**k hard, again and again, tightly enough she could feel him pulsing inside her. She lost all sense of self and place, enveloped only in the power of the orgasm.

Finally spent, she collapsed forward onto the pile of pillows. Her heart thundered so hard, she wondered if it would burst from her chest, and she couldn't seem to draw enough breath into her lungs. Mr. Hotstuff had collapsed on top of her, but he'd managed to catch his weight on his forearms so he didn't crush her.

After what seemed an eternity, he eased himself from her body. She sensed him move away then heard him in the bathroom as he disposed of the condom. She was still trying to find the energy to move when strong arms lifted her. She opened her eyes to see Mr. Hotstuff's black, black eyes watching her carefully.

"Are you okay?"

She let out a soft sigh. "Better than."

"Good. I think our drinks are toast, but I don't care because I am two seconds away from falling into bed."

She smiled at him. "That makes two of us."

With swift, economical movements, he yanked back the covers, moved the pillows, and laid her gently on the bed. In seconds, he was spooned behind her, one arm holding her, a warm hand cupping a breast. Before she could blink or say a word, she was fast asleep.