“Asshole.”
“Ditto.” They said good-bye, Lizzie and Brian giving Maggie hugs and kisses, and Michael got her into the car.
She rested her head against the seat and stared out into the night, not speaking. For the first time in his life, he felt completely uneasy around a woman, unsure what her thoughts were, and only wanting to comfort. No, he was a liar. He wanted to make love to her, then comfort her.
“I’m sorry.”
Michael shook his head and wondered if he’d misheard her softly spoken voice. “About what?”
She gave a sigh. “About before. In the bathroom at your mama’s house. I was a bitch.”
Great. A woman who admitted she was wrong. What was he going to do about her? Why couldn’t she just stay in character and stop surprising him? “Accepted.” He paused. “Mind telling me why?”
She stiffened but didn’t avoid the question. “I’m screwed up.”
He laughed. “Who isn’t? I moved too fast. These past few days have been overwhelming, and I surprised you.”
She let out a snort. “Oh, please. I had planned to seduce you, so you didn’t overwhelm me. Don’t think I’m some ditzy shrinking violet you can manipulate with your charm.”
He grinned. This was the Maggie he was used to and enjoyed battling with. “If that’s so, I hope you make up your mind fast. I don’t think I can take another night with a hard-on.”
That remark earned him a sneer. “Maybe if you’d stop driving like an old man, we’d get home before you lose it.”
He didn’t answer. Just stepped on the gas.
They snuck inside the house and locked the door. Maggie kicked off her shoes and motioned toward the bathroom. “You go first. I need to grab something from my suitcase.”
Michael rushed through the minimum of necessity, deciding to remove his shirt but leave his jeans on. Barefoot, he walked out of the bathroom, his heart pounding like his first woman was waiting for him, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to last.
When he finally spotted her, he realized he was doomed. She was heaven and hell in one, and he’d greet the devil with a smile on his face.
She stood under one of the antique lamps cast half in shadow. The dim light emphasized the high thrust of her breasts encased in delicate black lace. The fall of her silky hair as it brushed her shoulders. The full curve of her hip and the bare expanse of leg where the slip stopped above the knee.
As he moved forward, he realized it was more than her body that mesmerized him. For the second time tonight, a flash of vulnerability shone from her cat-green eyes. Her feet shifted just an inch as if she was still unsure, but he already decided he’d waited too long to claim her.
He grasped her shoulders as he closed the space between them. The tips of her nipples teased his bare chest, and she let out a tiny gasp. Satisfied, he gazed down at her in silence, taking in every inch of her body that was about to belong to him. His tigress scrambled for footing.
“Um, Michael, maybe we should—”
“No, cara.” He smiled and tipped her chin up. “It’s time.”
Maggie wondered if all those BDSM romance novels weakened her mind. Instead of taking charge in her normal sexual capacity, she watched with trembling knees as the man before her told her exactly what was going to happen.
God, she loved every moment.
The heat of his body pulled and tantalized as he lowered his head. A catchy little gasp escaped from her throat, but she was past caring. She needed his mouth and his hands and body to drive away the demons of doubt and vulnerability that tore her apart. The same ghosts that waited in her closet late at night to taunt her about not belonging dissolved in smoke as Michael Conte finally kissed her.
No-holds-barred.
The time of seduction and slow kisses was long gone. Maggie was completely overtaken by the assault that pushed and prodded every crevice of her mouth until she opened further and dived in. The taste of coffee and mint and raw hunger swamped her senses, and she slid her arms around his shoulders and hung on. He bent her backward and devoured her, promising her heaven and hell, while excitement pounded her body in waves. Control long gone, the kiss was pure survival, and she reveled in every stroke of his tongue, each nip of his teeth, until his thrusts parried his erection as he rocked between her thighs.
He ripped his lips from hers and breathed hard. Savage lust gleamed from the coal-black of his eyes while his gaze roved over her half-naked body. A thrill shot through her at the need that shook his hands as he traced a line down the valley of her breasts and around the cups. Her nipples rose in demand. His thumb tweaked one, then the other, and her knees grew weak as a spear of hot need shot straight to her clit.
He took half a step back and studied every inch of her. Then with a wolfish grin, he pushed her back on the bed.
Maggie had no time to gather her thoughts as he divested himself of his jeans in record time. The sheer power and length of his erection stole her breath. She reached out to touch him, but he moved too fast. His fingers grasped the fragile straps of her slip and worked the fabric down over her breasts, her thighs, her calves, her feet. He threw the lace away, then slowly eased her legs apart.
Maggie moaned as she lay open to his demands. The helplessness under his hungry stare caused a ripple of panic to flutter low in her belly. She lifted her hands to push him away, but as if he sensed her sudden unease, he raised his head to look at her.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmured. His fingers gently parted her swollen folds and dipped into her wet channel, thrusting slowly. “Dios, if I don’t taste you I’ll die.”
“Michael—”
“Yes, Maggie, show me your pleasure. Tell me how much I please you.”
His mouth dived. His hot tongue circled around her swollen clit as one finger joined the other and plunged deep. She arched upward and cried out. The overwhelming sensation of his thrusts, combined with the teasing licks around her bud, pushed her slowly toward the edge. Her fingers grabbed at the blanket in an effort to ground herself but he never let up, swirling and sucking with a gentle, steady pressure that heated her blood and drove her faster and faster toward orgasm.
“I’m going to—oh, God, I can’t—”
“Come for me, Maggie.” With one final thrust, he nibbled ever so gently on her clit and she flew over the edge. She screamed and convulsed, her hips arching up for more. Thrusting over and over, he took her deep and lengthened her climax until every muscle shuddered in agony and ecstasy.
Michael pressed kisses to her inner thighs, then slid down and came back with a condom. He threw the packet to the side and covered her body with his. Maggie moaned at the feel of his hot skin over hers, each muscle pressed into her curves, his hard length throbbing.
She tasted the musky essence of her pleasure as he kissed her long and deep. Helpless from the intensity of her orgasm, she let him take what he wanted, bringing her back up the slow ladder of tension, as he played with her nipples. As he rolled them between his fingers, the sharp pleasure rocketed her to the top until she surrendered completely and gave him what he wanted.
“Take me, Michael,” she begged. Her hips thrust up in demand, and she hooked one ankle around his leg and tried to urge him down. “Please.”
He laughed low and wicked, his teeth raking across her nipple and causing shivers to wrack her body. “You ask so nicely, cara. I can’t wait to bury myself inside you.”
He grabbed the condom and sheathed himself, then paused at her entrance. Wetness leaked down her thighs and welcomed him further. He teased her a bit, pushing in an inch, then another, until her head thrashed back and forth on the bed and her nails dug punishingly into his back.