Dare to Submit (Dare to Love #4)(13)
Author: Carly Phillips

She nodded quickly.

He kissed her jaw, licked her pulse point, and continued to tease her slick sex. “You’re beautiful.”

She shook her head—out of habit—and he pinched her clit. Pain radiated through her core.

“Are you calling me a liar?” he asked.

She shook her head. Tears threatened. Not because he’d hurt her physically. No, that pain had almost immediately grown into something hot and sweet. Something good. She wasn’t really sure why the emotional tears were ready to come.

“Then believe what I’m saying. You’re gorgeous. Do you want to know the first thing I noticed about you? Your br**sts,” he continued without waiting for her to reply.

He shifted in his seat. One hand covered her mound, and as he ground his palm against her sex, waves of wonderful sensation took her to another, higher plane. She floated on the cloud of passion he created, his large hand causing ripples of desire to coil tighter and tighter around her.

And with his other hand? He reached beneath her shirt and cupped one breast hard. “They were so lush and full,” he said, tweaking her nipple with his fingers, pulling at the already aching, distended peak. Moisture flooded from her sex into his waiting hand.

He groaned his approval. Slid one finger inside her wet heat. Her inner walls clamped around him, and she bit back a moan. All the while, he continued to talk, his sexy voice lulling her into that quiet space in her head where all that mattered was him, that he liked what he saw in her, and she believed him.

“They were so big and full,” he said, bringing her back to herself. Talking about her body tended to do that. “And ripe, plumping over the corset, just made for me to stroke, lick … and bite.”

He pinched her nipple, and the pain had a direct line to her pu**y, the need so deep she threw her head back and gritted her teeth to suppress a scream.

“I wondered if your ni**les were rose-colored or peach.” He added a second finger, thrusting into her along with the first. “But then I got distracted by your ass. Those cheeks are made for my hands. I wanted to squeeze those globes so hard I’d see handprints the next day and know you’re mine. Know that I thrust deep inside your wet pu**y and felt you grind and clench around me while you came.”

As he spoke, he pressed hard against her clit, and she bucked into his hand, rotating her hips, seeking deeper, more constant contact. He didn’t stop her. Didn’t seem to mind her frenzied state. Merely met her desire with a third finger, harder thrusts. “Like I said, so damned beautiful.”

She whimpered and rocked against his hand, his fingers filling her, her harsh pants loud to her ears. He ground his hand in small circles, and she built toward climax, the fresh air around her, the clickety-clack of the horse’s hooves, the city sounds all blurring together in her head.

“Oh God.”

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth. “That’s it. Ride me,” he whispered darkly in her ear. “Just like that horse you want to ride. Take what you need.”

She rocked her pelvis around and around against his hard hand, the pressure building. So close. “I’m coming!”

Just as she was about to scream, he clamped a hand over her mouth, the unexpected action necessary to preserve their privacy, but it was hot and erotic at the same time. Her entire body lost to sensation and the pressure of his hand hard against her mound, her hips gyrating in never-ending circles. She came, the most exquisite climax of her life overtaking her.

* * *

The cab that returned them to the club after the carriage ride was an exercise in pure frustration for Decklan, while a satisfied Amanda curled into his side. The drive from Manhattan to his house was even more difficult. Amanda dozed in the passenger seat, leaving him surrounded by her delicious scent and with an erection that needed to be handled. Soon.

If the physical ache were his only issue, he’d be set. But Amanda had done the impossible. She’d made her way inside him, and he’d already accepted this was a hell of a lot more than a one-night stand. Was this how Gabe had felt on meeting Isabelle? If so, Decklan was finally beginning to understand how his solitary brother had become obsessed, engaged, and ultimately married.

Amanda was chipping away at boundaries Decklan had always thought he needed to live, breathe, and just be. He needed control. She shredded his. He’d refused to care about anyone but his siblings. He didn’t allow women close, but she’d gotten in. He cared.

He wanted to ease the pain of the young girl whose mother had done severe damage to her self-esteem, and be there for the beautiful woman she’d become. Not that she knew or accepted the truth about herself, and maybe that was part of her appeal. He recognized her vulnerability because it ran deep inside him too. She feared she couldn’t be loved as is. He feared love because it meant he could be left and shattered again. With every minute that passed, he was afraid it was too late to halt the inevitable.

Once he parked, he woke Amanda and kept her close as he guided her up to his apartment. An older couple joined them in the elevator, and he clenched his jaw during the slow ride up, placing Amanda in front of him, blocking any view of his obvious erection. It hurt like hell, his c**k pressed hard and ready against the confining denim.

The moment his apartment door closed behind him, Decklan’s control snapped. He lifted Amanda and settled her on the heavy oak dining room table.

“Something tells me this isn’t the intended use of furniture,” she said, a sexy grin lifting her lips.

He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. It’s for eating, isn’t it?” He lifted her skirt and slid her toward him, parting and holding her thighs open with both hands.

Her glistening pu**y lips beckoned, and he leaned down, treating himself to a thorough lick of her delicious juices.

A shudder shook her frame. “Oh Decklan.”

The sound of his name was hell on his restraint, but he managed to hang on. She arched her hips toward his mouth, and he nibbled at her, teasing, tasting, biting, bringing her to the brink before deliberately stopping.

“Please, no. Don’t stop,” she practically wailed, her body trembling beneath him as she fought against his firm grip on her legs.

He nuzzled her thighs with his nose and mouth, then released her long enough to pull a condom from his pocket. He unzipped his jeans and shed them in one smooth shove down his legs. He covered himself quickly and grasped her legs once more. A low, shuddering sound escaped her throat, impaling him with a deep sense of satisfaction.