Any Time, Any Place by Jennifer Probst

Author:Jennifer Probst [Probst, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

chapter sixteen

Dalton took one look at the woman half-naked on the bar, satisfied by his own hand, and wanted to throw back his head and roar.

Primitive waves of possession and victory beat within him. Something inside told him he’d be happy making Raven come for an endless period of time. Not hours. Days, weeks, months. He was already addicted to the way she surrendered so completely to her pleasure. Her skin smelled of sandalwood and sex. She tasted like forbidden apples and dark Hershey’s chocolate and the smooth, honeyed bourbon Cal liked to drink. Her small breasts were perfectly formed to fit in his hand, and her raspberry nipples were extra sensitive to his touch. He wanted to steep himself in the study of her body, explore the slopes and planes of her curves, her sweet, tight pussy, her muscled arms and legs.

He knew in that moment Raven had been right.

She wouldn’t be wrung out of his system tonight. A taste of her had only teased the beast inside, who was now already demanding more of her.

“You cheated.”

The sexy pout made his dick hurt. He’d never been this ready to come in his jeans before. He was almost afraid to have her touch him. “Couldn’t play fair this time, darlin’. You’re too fucking beautiful.” He brought his fingers up to his nose and breathed in her scent. His knees almost buckled with lust. “How can I make it up to you? Another orgasm?”

He loved her smoke-curling, rich laugh. She rose from the bar, hooked her index finger in the waist of his jeans, and pulled him close. Her voice lowered to a witchy whisper. “Definitely. But it is my turn, and I want to play. Keep your hands to yourself.” She nipped at his bottom lip, tugged off his shirt, and touched him.

Dalton gritted his teeth at the feel of her hands coasting over his skin. She stroked every inch of his chest, raked her nails down his arms, licked his nipples. He groaned and let her take charge, keeping his hands fisted because if he touched her just once, he’d bury himself between her thighs in record time.

Those same legs he dreamed about suddenly wrapped around his hips. He jerked forward, and then she plunged her hand down the front of his jeans, found his dick, and squeezed tight.

Ah, shit. It was too good. It was too much. It was too . . . perfect.

Her satisfied laugh only stoked the fire. “I love a man who doesn’t wear underwear,” she murmured. “And I love the way you feel—hot and silky and so damn big.”

Sweat broke out on his forehead. He was known for his stamina. It wasn’t an ego thing, he’d just never had a problem giving a woman release numerous times, not needing it as much for himself. For him, sex was a journey, not the culmination most men believed it to be. But right now, he was about to explode, and she’d only given him a half-assed hand job.

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