Hendrix: A Raleigh Raptor Novel Page 9

  “You do? I am?” She ran her fingers down the expanse of my back.

  “Yes.” I kissed her.

  “What dirty things?” she asked against my lips.

  I grinned, then kissed her again, tugging on her lower lip slightly before I sent those lips down her body, pausing at her neck, sucking on her nipples, running my tongue along the dip of her belly button before I breathed deep at the strip of red curls above her pussy.

  “Things like this,” I said, lifting my head slightly so I could watch her reaction as my fingers parted her and found her hot, slick, and drenched. “Fuck, you’re soaking wet, baby.”

  Her only sound was a whimper as I rolled my fingers over her clit. Her hips bucked, her fingernails bit into the skin of my shoulders, and I nearly forgot why I was trying so hard to slow the fuck down.

  She’s a virgin, you dumbass.

  Right. That.

  “Things like this,” I repeated and replaced my fingers with my mouth.

  “Hendrix!” she shouted, her fingers gripping my hair as I lapped at her.

  “So fucking good,” I muttered, pushing her knees up and spreading her thighs wider for my shoulders. “So sweet.” My tongue swirled around her clit. “So wet.” I sucked lightly on the nub, and her whole body went taut. “So mine, even if it’s just for this once.”

  I stabbed my tongue into her once. Twice. “Soon this is going to be my fingers.” I stabbed again. “Then my cock.”

  She came, her back arching off the bed as she screamed my name, tugging at my hair and riding my tongue with her hips. You only get this once. And yet I hadn’t been able to stop myself from tasting her again as I had in the office.

  She came down slowly, and I kissed her again, sending a tremor through her limbs before I rose over her, rolling slightly to the side.

  “That mouth,” she whispered, her thumb stroking my lower lip as the aftershocks rolled through her. “God, Hendrix.” She sat up and kissed me, stroking her tongue deep before those lips descended, kissing my chest, my abs—

  Oh, shit.

  “No, baby. Not tonight,” I said, quickly putting her on her back where that gorgeous mouth was far from my cock.

  “I thought you said you wanted my mouth around your cock.” She arched an eyebrow.

  I groaned at the mental picture. “You get near me with that mouth, and I’ll lose it, Savannah. If I only get this once, I’m not coming until I’m deep inside you.” I sucked her lower lip between my teeth, parted her with my fingers, and slid one exactly where I wanted my dick.

  She gasped, her grip shifting to my shoulder.

  “Right here,” I promised, stroking her tight walls and adding a second finger. “You’re so fucking tight. Have you ever played?”

  “Played?” she asked, her hips rocking against my hand. “That feels so good.”

  My jaw flexed, and my cock throbbed, but I didn’t stop. She was the only thing that mattered. “Have you ever used a vibrator?”

  “Oh. Um. Yeah.” Her eyes slid shut as I strummed her clit with my thumb, working her up the hill of climax again so she could take me.

  “Inside?”

  Her eyes flew open, and her flush deepened, but she nodded.

  “Good.” I added a third finger, stroking in and out of her pussy just like my cock was going to.

  “Most guys would be worried about measuring up,” she quipped breathlessly.

  “I’m not most guys.” I stroked her clit hard and fast, making her cry out as her hips rose for more. “And I’m glad because it will be easier to take me.”

  She looked down and watched my fingers fuck her, then moaned and blindly reached at the covers beside her until she found the condom. Her teeth made quick work of it, ripping it open. “Let me.”

  I nodded, working her steadily, stretching her around the width of my fingers and keeping her on edge with my thumb’s flicks and rubs of her clit.

  Her breath was ragged as she shifted slightly, her eyes darting toward mine before placing the condom over my swollen tip and rolling it over my length.

  “Fuck,” I hissed as she covered me. I wanted her hands on me, her mouth, her little pink tongue, but those needs were nothing compared to the driving, primitive demand to thrust deep inside her.

  “I’m ready,” she declared, laying back and staring up at my ceiling.

  “No, you’re not.” I smiled when her gaze snapped back to mine. “But almost.” Our mouths met, and I increased the tempo of my fingers. She was so slippery and swollen, her clit hard and needy, yet I kept her on that edge to prolong it. Her thighs were tight, her muscles trembling, her skin shining with a fine sheen of perspiration. Every second was heaven.

  Her hands clutched at my shoulders as I curled my fingers to rub her G-spot with every thrust. “Hendrix… I think I’m…”

  “You are,” I promised, pressing down on her clit.

  She came again, chanting my name, clenching my fingers so hard sweat beaded on my own skin. Just once.

  I had to hold back. Had to take it slowly. Had to enjoy each and every second of what was about to happen because it would never happen again.

  My fingers slipped free as I knelt between her thighs, my cock finding her entrance like they were magnets. She rocked her hips. I pinned them to the bed to hold her still.

  “Do you still want this?” I asked, brushing my lips over hers, my voice coming out rough and low. One shake of her head and I’d be in the bathroom, standing under a cold shower I instinctively knew wouldn’t help.

  “Yes,” she demanded.

  A smile tugged at my lips despite the raw hunger coursing through my veins. “Only you could make an answer an order, I swear.”

  “Please.” She kissed me gently.

  I groaned and sank into her, taking the first inch with a roll of my hips, then another and another. I watched her eyes for any pain, any sign she’d changed her mind, but there was only the same need that mirrored my own as I consumed her, taking every inch she’d give me and demanding another until she held me from base to tip, her walls tightening around me like a silken vise.

  “God, Savannah,” I groaned, resting my forehead against hers. “I’m inside you.”

  She whimpered and swiveled her hips.

  “You can’t…” I locked my jaw and fought back the urge to come as the pleasure of it swept over me, threatening to take me all the way. Where was my infamous stamina now? Where was the cool detachment?

  “Can’t what?” she challenged, swirling her hips again.

  I saw stars. “Shit. Savannah, you do that again and this will be over before it starts. You feel too damned good, and I’ve waited so fucking long. You have to give me a second, Butterfly. Tell me you’re okay.”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” she promised. “And I’m better than okay.”

  “Thank God.” I searched her eyes and found only the truth. Then I kissed her and started moving. Slow and easy to start, each movement measured and careful.

  “Hendrix,” she groaned, rocking her hips to meet mine. “You feel amazing.”

  It was exactly that—amazing. Every ounce of my concentration held my body in check as I built her pleasure again, dipping to kiss her breasts, stroking my hands over her nipples, then reaching between us to lightly stroke her climax-sensitive clit.

  “More,” she demanded. “Please, Hendrix. More.” She gripped my hair, my neck, my shoulders, urging me on.

  “Let me get you—”

  “I won’t break.” She locked eyes with me. “Stop holding back.”

  Just once.

  I snapped, thrusting hard and deep.

  “Yes!” She cried out, her neck arching as her nails scraped my back.

  That was all I needed to hear. Again and again, I thrust home, setting our rhythm like the secondhand on a clock, bottoming out deep before starting over again. I should have flipped her over, taken her in every position, made the most of this one time we had together, but I couldn’t imagine anything better—an
ything hotter than looking in her eyes as I slammed into her over and over, meeting the demands of her hips with my own.

  All too soon, her body tightened again, her thighs tensing around my hips, her breath quickening. The rush gathered in my spine, my climax hovering, growing to unstoppable heights.

  I felt it charge and stroked my thumb over her clit, bringing her over with me as I came in a long, hoarse cry that sounded like her name. My orgasm crashed through me, overwhelmed me, sent me to the very stars as I heard her call out my name.

  It was a few long minutes later before we came back to our senses. I’d rolled her to my side, holding her close as we got control of our breathing.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, brushing back a strand of her hair. Just once. How the fuck was I going to walk away from her? From this? I’d never lost control like that before, never needed someone more than I’d wanted them. Never lost myself in someone else. How could I let her out of this bed without taking her every way I’d imagined, especially knowing how sweet she was? How responsive?

  “I’m more than okay.” She smiled over at me, her eyes hazy with satisfaction. “That was incredible.”

  “Yeah, it was,” I agreed, kissing her gently.

  My entire chest went tight at the idea of letting her walk out, and my dick began to swell again—guess it wasn’t done, either.

  “You don’t feel like this is a once-only kind of thing,” she whispered with a smile, shifting her hips.

  I groaned. “Savannah.”

  “How about instead of once…we say just one night?” she suggested.

  She was so beautiful. So perfect. So…everything, and mine for an entire night.

  “Yeah. Just one night.” I kissed her deep and surrendered to the pull between us. One night might not be enough, but I’d make it last.

  It had to.

  10

  Savannah

  Hendrix’s skin, slick against my own as he thrust home again and again. Sending my mind, my fucking soul into orbit with each expert roll of his hips. And that mouth? I never knew I could be so infatuated with a mouth, or the things one could do with it until he set his on my body.

  Four days.

  Four days and I could still smell Hendrix on my skin despite multiple showers. And it wasn’t like I was trying to get the scent off of my skin, but every time I got a slight hint of his signature sent—leather and black pepper and just the slightest hint of something floral, I lost my ever-loving mind.

  Fell down that beautiful rabbit hole that consisted of everything he’d done to me that night.

  And everything I couldn't stop wanting him to do again.

  But we made a deal, and I couldn't ask him of any more than what he’d given me. And he sure as hell had given me a lot.

  Everything.

  He’d given me him.

  Warm chills danced down my spine, and I flitted around our apartment in an attempt to outrun my thoughts. I kept my hands busy with tasks of cleaning the already immaculate space to keep myself from texting him.

  From asking him for one more kiss.

  One more touch.

  One more taste.

  Addicted. That's what this must feel like.

  London wasn't here to help distract me, either, and I'd already tried and failed to study about fifteen times. Every highlighted passage became Hendrix’s fingers grazing over my hips. Every turned page became Hendrix’s lips on the edge of my neck. Every time I had to reread the passage of text became Hendrix sliding home, lighting up my insides with expert flicks and thrusts of his hips.

  I groaned out loud, wishing my roommate hadn't chosen this week to check out her new territory in North Carolina.

  I shouldn't be that mad. I needed to get used to it. She'd be moving soon. And then I would be left to my own devices.

  That knowledge was enough to bring me back down to ground level. The sadness was a welcomed distraction from the heat coursing through my veins, my heartbeat pounding Hendrix Hendrix Hendrix.

  God, I was bad as one of those silly human girls in a paranormal novel lusting after the vampire who fucked and sucked her so good she couldn't think of anything else.

  But I was an independent woman, dammit. One who—

  A knock on my door pounded through my thoughts, thankfully cutting off my own internal defense of myself when I knew I was as hopeless as they come.

  I swung open the door, expecting to see our normal Amazon delivery girl, and instead, my breath caught in my throat.

  Because this wasn't my Prime order of the egg maker I didn't need, but Hendrix fucking Malone. Standing there looking so goddamn good in a pair of faded jeans and a white T-shirt that hugged every inch of his muscled body.

  I narrowed my gaze at him, terrified to be the one to speak first despite him being the one that showed up on my doorstep. Or had I gone so far around the bend that I’d manifested him here? Conjured him up out of thin air with my ridiculous need to capture that feeling again. That sparking electric fire feeling that only ignited when he was touching me.

  Was it so bad? To want to hold onto that feeling with both hands, regardless of who it was attached to.

  We stared at each other, the silence eating up the space between us, charged like a stick of sparking dynamite.

  I didn't know if we were about to fight or fuck. And I hated to admit that I prayed for a little of both.

  Still, I waited, intent on holding this little bit of power. And I cocked an eyebrow at him when he seemed content to just stand in my doorway and drink his fill of my body with his eyes.

  I darted my tongue out to wet my lips, my mouth suddenly dry, and he tracked the movement like with a charged gaze that promised pleasure if I simply gave an inch.

  A thrill of heat rush through me, but I didn’t say a word.

  He smirked, glancing over his shoulder before returning his crushing blue gaze to mine. "How about we make it one week?"

  The breath in my lungs skittered, stuttered, and despite my brain, my heart, and my body shouting hell to the yes, I arched my eyebrows at him. "This week is already four days over," I countered, popping my hip out.

  He tracked that movement too, just as he tracked the submission when I stepped out of the entryway and silently gestured him inside. He slowly walked by me, his scent so much more intoxicating and powerful as he slipped by and stopped in the middle of my living room.

  I shut the door behind him.

  Then I locked it for good measure.

  "Well," he said, spinning to face me after scanning the interior of my apartment. "We better make these last three days count."

  Those may have been the most beautiful words I'd ever heard, but I couldn't give Hendrix Malone the satisfaction. So, instead of running and launching myself toward his perfect body, I confidently walked into our kitchen and pretended to look for something to drink in the fridge.

  Turning my back on him felt like turning my back on a beautiful exotic animal, and my focus narrowed not to what was in front of me, but what I could feel when he followed me—like flames licking my skin, a deep, rising ache pulsing and sparking and climbing until I could barely breathe.

  "Who says I want to make the best of it?" I asked, a slight tease to my voice. My heart was beating so hard against my chest, I was sure he could hear it. Sure he could see through my bravado and straight to the parts of me that trembled in his presence.

  I pulled out two sparkling waters, and set them on the counter next to me, closing the fridge as I turned around. I didn't jump at his nearness—not when I’d felt him follow me in here. Felt the heat from his body as if it was reverberating under my own skin. Instead, I calmly leaned against my kitchen counter and slid the water toward him.

  He wrapped his fingers around the cold glass bottle and clinked it against the one in my hand. "Do you not?" he asked and took a quick sip.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn't delight in the slight hint of worry laced in his words. Hendrix Malone, panty-dropper playboy and Hol
lywood-extraordinaire was worried I didn't want another taste? Like I hadn’t been craving him since the second I left his house?

  I shrugged and brought my bottle to my lips, wrapping them around the rim a little suggestively. Fire blazed in his eyes at the little stunt, and it only did more to rev up the tension curling in my body.

  Hendrix smiled as if he saw something in my eyes that I hadn't meant to show. He gave me a shrug of his own and set his half-drunk bottle on the counter next to me. His strong muscled arm grazed mine just slightly with the motion. But then he took a step back, hands shoved effortlessly in his pockets as he headed toward my door. "Well, I know when I'm not wanted. Didn't mean to bother you."

  He reached for my doorknob, and my heart leaped to my throat.

  Was he really going to leave? Could he really not see how badly I wanted him? Did he not realize that we were playing a game?

  "Since you're already here," I hurried to say, my words stopping his hand on the knob.

  His competent smirk deepened as he turned to face me. "One week, then?"

  I didn't try to hide my smile this time, and though this was my favorite game to play, my body was so done with the dance.

  "Yes," I whispered.

  The confirmation of consent was his undoing—one second, he stood at my front door, and the next I was in his arms, my legs wrapping around his hips as he hefted me up and up. He crushed his lips on mine, and I breathed in his kiss, our tongues crashing together in a hungry frenzy as if we’d been starved for each other.

  My skin felt like a live wire everywhere he touched, my core tensing and flexing with need.

  Hendrix wasted no time in taking me to the first available surface, which happened to be the couch in our living room. But instead of dropping me along the length of it, the man perched me on the arm.

  His strong hands grazed delicately over my legs and unlocked my ankles from around his back, and then he took a small step away and dropped to his knees before me.