Page 34

CHAPTER 34

As they neared Dante’s condo, the door to his private garage sensed something about the vehicle and opened smoothly, and as it did, the lights inside came on. He drove in, down the ramp into the underground space, and the gate shut behind them. Like all underground garages, it was utilitarian: gray concrete and dim light. He housed six of his cars down here; no one else had access.

He turned off the engine and took his first full breath since he’d seen those headlights coming at them. “We’re safe.”

“Really?” Maarja glanced around. “In here?”

“Very safe. The garage door is reinforced and so is the access door. A private elevator is keyed to my hand print and goes directly from the garage to my floor.” He viewed her expression. He didn’t understand what he was seeing. Fear after what they’d gone through? No. Disbelief as she comprehended the changes in her life? That didn’t look right, either. He patted her shoulder, hoping to provide her a little comfort and reinforce his reassurance of protection. “We’ll go up now. I’ll check things out, make sure it’s okay for you. Then I’ll head to—”

She grabbed his fingers and squeezed. “No.”

“No?” Did she want to talk here?

“Get out of your pants.”

What the hell? “What do you think—?”

“Unzip. Remove your pants.” She turned her head to look at him, her expression fierce, angry, determined. “We were almost killed. Your car is crunched. I’m seat-belt bruised and God knows what else. I deserve a bonus.” She ripped off her leather pants like a stripper about to perform the Gypsy Rose Lee maneuver for an appreciative audience.

He was an appreciative audience. Oh, God, he could not be more appreciative.

Somehow she got rid of her panties and projected herself over the console between them. She used the levers to push his chair back from the steering wheel, and lowered his seat back a few inches.

“Wait,” he said. She wanted to do it now ? No kissing, no foreplay, no prep? “This is not a good idea.”

“Yes, it is. We almost got killed. We almost died . You’re going to give me what I want. Take. Down. Your. Pants.” She balanced above him with her boots on either side of his hips and unzipped him. She took his erection between her palms and lightly stroked. “Down. Jeans.”

He wanted to laugh, to protest more forcefully, to point out that yes, they had almost been killed and while the garage was secure, his home was more secure and surely they could wait the five minutes it would take to get in the elevator and—

She placed the head of his cock between her legs.

She’d never manage this. Every time they’d fucked he’d used a lubricant. A woman as new as she was… God, she was wet. She pressed down.

He slid inside those first few inches and, caught by surprise, he groaned.

He never groaned. It revealed too much.

Using both hands, he caught her bare butt and held her still. “You’re out of control.”

“You mean, you’re not in control.”

She was mocking him. This girl was making fun of him.

She batted at his hands. “I’m doing this. All you have to do is sit here and think of England. Can you handle that?”

He didn’t know how she was doing it or even if she was doing it on purpose, but her cunt rhythmically flexed on him, pulling him deeper…centimeters at a time, like some kind of medieval torture designed to drive a man to the edge and beyond.

It was working. He teetered. He let go of her and gripped the door and the console hard enough to leave fingerprints. He thrust up, trying to seat himself.

“Don’t move,” she snapped. Gripping his shoulders, she eased herself down.

He wanted to instruct her, explain how a little back-and-forth made the process flow more naturally, but he recognized her expression: it was resolve mixed with lust mixed with the satisfaction of being in charge.

When she’d taken him to the hilt and her bottom rested on his legs, she leaned back, her hands on his thighs, and smiled into his eyes. “I like this.”

“I see you do.”

The timer on the automatic lights clicked. Darkness enveloped them.

As if that was a signal, she fucked him. Hard and deep, lifting and falling, breaking him with sex. Physically, her body was strong and taut, developed by her job and her unceasing workouts. Inside she was tight with a texture like velvet. Right now, this moment, she fulfilled his every teen fantasy. His brain rediscovered an adolescent joy in drenching pleasure, the insanity of the now where the past had never happened and the future didn’t matter. To hell with not revealing himself with a groan; he could only manage caveman grunts that aptly conveyed his wholehearted consent to whatever she chose to do.

What she chose to do was pause at the top as if they’d reached the highest point on the roller coaster…for one suspenseful moment he waited in agony… Then, like the roller coaster, she sped into the drop that stole his breath and stopped his heart. She pounded down on him, her cunt squeezing, clutching, sucking on him. As if it was all too much, she sobbed as she came, demanding he come, too. As if last night had never been, he pumped semen into her, to fill her, to satisfy her, to claim her as his.

Damn it. She was his. She might resist, but she was learning.

He only hoped she didn’t kill him during the lessons.

For a woman with so little experience, she showed a remarkable aptitude for debauchery.

Was this what he had to look forward to for all the years of his life?

Dante fervently hoped so.