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

He claimed otherwise. She needed to believe him. And when the pain transformed into desire, she did. Why else would she bare her ass in front of a room full of people when she never had before? And why did a part of her actually like it? Because it pleased him. That much she understood.

Her sex throbbed, and the more he ran his palm over his handiwork, the more she wanted. Dampness coated her thighs and she needed to come.

He squeezed her cheeks together, and heat bloomed anew between her thighs, her clit pulsing with desperate need.

“Are you wet, baby?”

“God, yes.”

“Let’s see.” He slid a finger around her pu**y, gliding over her wet lips, spreading the cream he’d created. “You’re soaking,” he said, pure male satisfaction in his tone.

The whimper that escaped barely sounded like her own.

He eased a finger inside her body, and she clenched around him, attempting to grip him tight, hold him in place. But she wasn’t running this show. Instead, he pumped that single digit in and out of her channel until she began wriggling against him, seeking deeper contact.

He slapped her again, and she dropped her head on a low moan.

Two fingers thrust deep, and his thumb worked her clit, pressing hard on the tiny nub that controlled her pleasure. In and out, harder and faster until she was writhing uncontrollably against his hand.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, each plunge of his fingers deeper, that gruff voice sexy enough to cause a mini orgasm on its own.

She lost track of time and place; the only thing that mattered was the collision of her body and his hand. She arched her back, pressing harder against him, reaching for a climax that was so close and so big her emotions were at the surface. Tears leaked from her eyelids.

And then she exploded on a scream, her orgasm taking over, pulling her up, up, and over. Pleasure like she’d never felt suffusing every cell of her being, and she rode out the wave, rocking on his hand, lost in sensation. And then his digits curled up inside her, hitting a place that was new to her, and tremors started again, this climax harder than the one before.

Just as the waves began subsiding, he pressed on her clit.

“No,” she moaned, knowing there was no way her body could take another.

“Yes, you can.” He pinched her hard and she came once more.

* * *

It had been ages since Decklan had done aftercare. Yet he sat on a couch in a corner of the club, an out-of-it Amanda wrapped in a blanket, curled in his lap. His c**k throbbed with unslaked need, and he welcomed the feeling. It reminded him that there were times when it was worth the sacrifice to hold out. She’d reminded him.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Max chose a seat beside him and eyed the feminine bundle in his arms, a satisfied smile on his face. “You gave in and you liked it.”

“She needed it,” Decklan muttered, not wanting to disturb her until she came around on her own. Damn woman thought she was too curvy? Too big? She’d deserved to have that ass slapped. Next time he wanted to bite. To mark her and gain the satisfaction of seeing his imprint on her skin.

He shifted uncomfortably, knowing he couldn’t allow himself to get that involved with her. To do so meant some kind of relationship, which in turn involved allowing himself to get close and potentially care. Or even love. Which meant to risk loss. And loss was something Decklan didn’t deal well with. He’d lost his parents at nineteen, and he never wanted to feel that kind of pain and out-of-control panic again.

He shook his head to rid himself of the thought before he traveled to that dark place, but the memory didn’t negate the fact that he wanted more with this particular woman. More time to figure out why she got to him and more time than he’d had so far.

The bundle in his arms suddenly stirred. He shot Max a pointed look, and the other man rose to his feet. “I’m going. We can pick this up another time.”

Or not, Decklan thought irritably. Max liked to psychoanalyze. Decklan didn’t.

“What happened?” She glanced around, her big eyes blinking as she came to—and remembered. “Oh. Wow. I never go under like that.”

He grinned, unable to help the ridiculous feeling of pride that he’d been able to take her there. “You did. Here, take a drink.” He handed her a bottle of water that had been left for her. He unscrewed the cap and held the bottle for her to sip.

She drank some. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He paused, then decided to push her a little. A woman who looked like her didn’t need to suffer from self-esteem issues. “You need to look in a different mirror,” he said, tightening his arms so she couldn’t bolt.

And she tried to. He held on. “We don’t know each other, and I’m not going to push you to talk if you don’t want to. Just know I meant what I said.”

“Then you’re also saying you’re shy? That’s why it took six months and another guy being an ass in order for you to make a move?”

Shit. So there really was more to her disbelief and calling him a liar earlier. “Are you questioning me again? Because I’m more than happy to add another ten.”

She bit down on that full bottom lip. “I’m just being honest. I thought that was part of what went on here.” Once again, she tried to push away.

“You tempted me too much,” he said, admitting the truth. It was that or giving her up for the night—and that wasn’t happening.

As she accepted his answer, the tension eased, and she curled back into him. He released a long breath, unwilling to question it too hard.

He brushed his hand down her long hair, breathing in the mixture of her scent, peaches and arousal. Desire, thick and heavy, kicked him in the groin. She pulled at emotions inside him he’d locked down years ago.

Time to lay out the parameters. “I don’t do relationships.”

“Me neither.”

A waste, he immediately thought. This woman deserved to have a man take care of her. He wanted to take care of her.

He immediately discarded the dangerous desire. “Well then, I think we have something in common, and we can go on with our night. Is that what you want?” he asked.

She slowly nodded. “I want that very much, Decklan. I want you.”

THREE

Amanda stepped into the ladies’ room to make a phone call, not wanting Decklan to overhear. “You’re sure?” she asked, talking into her cell phone.

“They don’t call me a computer genius for no reason. I dug deep. Decklan’s a decent enough guy. Not a serial killer, no arrests in his past. Nothing hidden either. I’d have found it.”