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Hotter After Midnight

Hotter After Midnight (Midnight #1)(52)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Colin jerked off his own shirt. “All you had to do was ask, baby.”

Emily’s green gaze swept down his body. She licked her lips, eyeing the erection that pressed against the front of his jeans.

Hunger pumped through him.

Emily pulled off her glasses, sat them near the TV. And slipped to her knees before him. “But before we get to the main event,” she whispered, “I think it’s my turn to touch you.”

Her fingers were rock steady as she reached for his jeans. A quick flick of her hand and the button unsnapped. The slow hiss of his zipper filled the air.

His c**k sprang forward, lunging for her eager hands. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. Never did.

Her fingers skimmed over his cock. Stroked from base to head. Her breath blew over him, slightly cool, and so arousing he shuddered.

A drop of pr**cum appeared on the head of his penis. Emily murmured softly and rubbed her index finger over the liquid. She glanced up at him and brought her finger to her lips. Tasted him.

“Umm, nice.” She held his gaze a moment longer. “I like the way you taste.” Her mouth hovered over his cock. Her tongue snaked out, licked the bulbous head of his arousal.

Oh, f**k, yes.

Then she took him inside, all the way inside the warm cavern of her mouth. Sucking. Licking. And stroking with her hand.

Damn, but the doc knows exactly how to touch me.

He reached down, found the soft weight of her br**sts and fondled her.

She gasped against him. Oh, that felt good.

So he did it again. Stroked her. Slid his fingers beneath her lacy bra and found her ni**les. He squeezed lightly, applying just enough pressure.

Her mouth trembled around him as she moaned.

His c**k swelled even more. He began to thrust against her mouth. Shallow thrusts, then deeper, harder.

Her mouth was wet, warm, so f**king perfect that his orgasm was already building, building…

Her lips tightened around him as she sucked harder.

“No!” He jerked away from her, his c**k standing straight up.

Emily blinked up at him, her face flushed. “Didn’t you like—”

“Oh, hell, yeah, baby.” The woman had given him the best blow job of his life. “You wanted it my way, right?”

She licked her lips, nodded.

Damn. Seeing her on the floor, on her knees before him, was making him so f**king hungry for her. He was fighting the beast. The animal in him wanted her just as badly as the man.

Maybe it was her vulnerability that drew the beast. He smelled prey.

And as for the man…He smelled her sweet cream. And he wanted her.

“Take off the rest of your clothes.”

Emily pushed to her feet. Began to walk down the hall.

“No. In here.”

No way would he make it to the bedroom. He wanted her naked, open, and ready right then.

He sure as hell hoped that Emily had meant what she’d said. Because they were definitely about to f**k his way.

Emily kicked off her shoes. Pushed down her skirt. And he almost climaxed right then.

She was wearing a thin scrap of black lace and a garter belt. A garter belt. He’d seen those only in his dreams.

Who would have thought his button-downed little doc would have his dream underwear?

“Get on your hands and knees.” His voice was a guttural growl. More beast than man.

Emily tossed back her hair and damn if a come-hither smile didn’t curve her lips as she slowly crouched on the floor. She placed her hands deliberately and pressed her knees against the wooden floor. Her hair trailed over her back, a silken mass that he wanted to touch.

But not as much as he wanted to touch her.

Her hips arched, her perfect ass tilted in the air. “Is this what you wanted?”

Hell, yes.

His teeth were lengthening. He’d have to take care with her, have to—

“Then come take me.”

Fuck.

His control snapped.

Colin lunged for her, hitting the floor hard, but he didn’t care. His hands curled around her hips, and his mouth pressed against her back. He tasted her skin. Licked her and lightly bit her flesh.

Emily tossed back her head and lifted her hips. “Colin…” A demand.

He shoved his jeans all the way down. Forced her legs farther apart. Then trailed his fingers over the soft curve of her ass.

“What do you want, Emily? What do you want me to do?”

His hand slipped between the legs, found her warm, wet with arousal. He teased her, pushing his index finger just inside her small, tight opening, and rubbed his thumb against the center of her desire.

Her body stiffened. “Ah…God, yes!”

He pulled his finger back, drove it deep. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you inside me.”

He growled. Grabbed his c**k with one hand. Reached for the foil packet in his pocket.

“No!” Emily twisted, glaring back at him. “I want to feel you. ”

And he sure as hell wanted to feel her. But they had to be careful, they couldn’t take any risks.

“Colin, I-I’m protected and I’m clean. And your kind—you don’t get sick anyway. So we don’t need to worry.” Her hips rolled against him. “This time, I just want you.”

His right hand clamped over her hips. Positioned her. He lodged the head of his erection against her opening, felt the warm, creamy welcome of her sex. “Then take me.”

He plunged deep in one smooth, hard thrust.

Emily arched beneath him.

He pulled back, drove to the hilt. Again. Again.

Emily’s hips were thrusting back against him, meeting him move for move. He was growling, she was moaning, the air was thick with the scent of their lovemaking.

Colin crouched over her, wrapping his body over hers as he thrust. Ah, damn, but she feels good. Tight. Hot. Wet.

So. Fucking. Perfect.

His hands covered hers. His nails sharpened.

Careful, careful—

His mouth found the curve of her throat. Licked. Sucked.

Her hips rolled against him, her sex squeezed. She was close to climaxing. He could feel the slight stiffening of her body that signaled her coming release.

His teeth pressed against her throat. He could feel her pulse beating. Faster. Faster. The blood was pounding just beneath the skin.

The edge of his canines raked against her.

Emily gasped, bucked beneath him. She came, her body shaking, squeezing his c**k as she whispered his name.

He shifted, freeing her hands, pulling back just enough to grab her hips so that he could thrust, harder, harder…

His mouth stayed on her throat.

If she were his mate, he’d mark her again. A true mark. A mark of shared blood. Of bonding.

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