Lauren Dane: Drawn Together

“I’d like to fuck you. Well, I’d like to do lots of things with you, including fucking. You down with that?”

She nodded. “I’m so down with that.”

“The glass is treated. No one can see in. So you should get naked for me.”

She slowly unbuttoned her blouse to reveal the lacy camisole she was very glad she’d worn.

He hummed low, watching, his gaze on her a weight.

She stepped from her shoes, placing them beneath a nearby chair. The sticks came from her hair easily enough, sending it down her back and loose around her shoulders. The camisole slid from her skin, leaving her in a bra. A black-and-purple bra.

Next, the zipper at the side of her trousers slid down, enabling her to step from them.

“Your panties match your bra. I like that.”

She didn’t know why, but the fact that he liked it made her . . . proud.

The bra and underpants took only moments and she stood before him, far more than her skin bared.

He stared, long and hard, not trusting his words. She was so beautiful.

Long dark hair with threads of deep blue shot through it. Large, high breasts, silver bars through each nipple. Her skin was pale, creamy, and covered with ink here and there. Her legs were long, her toenails a deep red. She was bold, the way she looked back at him. And yet there was a fragility to Raven that grabbed him and didn’t let go. He was torn between a clawing desire and a need to cosset and spoil.

The stars she’d indicated earlier started at her left hip and scattered up her belly, across to her other hip and up her rib cage. Up each of her inner arms she had thorns and roses that wrapped around her biceps and shoulders.

“I see three tattoos. Where are the others?”

She turned, pulling her hair aside. Across her back spilled ivy and purple flowers.

“What are the flowers?”

“Forget-me-nots.”

Her voice, threaded with tension, tugged at him, drawing him closer.

“Eula?” He traced over the word that had been woven into a knot of ivy.

“My great-grandmother.”

Each time she told him something personal it felt like a victory. “Ah. This work is stunning.”

On her back at each hip sat a triangle with swirls.

“What are the triangles?”

“Triquetra on each side. Same basic concept, but the right is based on the disc I used to put in my 45 singles back when I had a record player. The other, well, it’s got personal meaning.”

“Enlighten me.”

“The nature of three. Mind, body, spirit. Maiden, mother, crone. The three levels of earth. That design is Celtic. Like I said earlier, Brody did all my work. He’s an artist, isn’t he?”

Jonah didn’t want any other man’s name on her lips. Even though he knew Brody Brown was a man who appeared to adore his wife and two daughters. Jonah knew too that Brody and Raven had once been involved.

“You’re quite the canvas.”

He noted the soft upturn of her lips. A pleased, touched smile. He wanted to see it again.

“Can I undress you?”

The two of them paused. Each seemingly surprised by the request.

“Yes.”

She pulled his shirt off again, leaning in to press an openmouthed kiss against his chest.

“Your body is beautiful.” She murmured it, nearly to herself.

He didn’t stop himself from sliding his palms over her shoulders and down her back, drawing her closer as she pulled his pants open and then down, kneeling as she did.

He stepped from his pants and shorts and then she looked up his body, shocking him into utter stillness as he took in the sight of this woman on her knees before him.

It was more than kneeling to get at his cock. It was . . . more. So much more.

“I like the way you look there. On your knees before me.”

“Do you?”

He nodded, sliding his fingers through her hair.

“I do. Very much. So much that I think you should suck my cock. Yes, yes, I think that’s definitely what you should do.”

She leaned in, brushing her cheek against the line of his cock until he nearly hissed. How such a small thing could feel so amazing he didn’t know, but it did.

She licked up the line from his sac to the crown, around and around, before sucking him into the heat of her mouth. Hot and wet, she took him deep, so deep he grunted at how amazing it felt.

Over and over, the rhythm of her down and up, down and up, the heat cooling as she retreated, only to shock him again as she swallowed his cock. Her nails scored up the backs of his thighs, her hands flattening on his ass to pull him closer.

From his vantage point he could take in the color on her back as her hair moved. It was so good he had an inner quarrel with himself. He told himself he could stop her in just a bit because he wanted more of her mouth. Then he told himself he had great recovery time and if he came in her mouth—and that idea appealed quite a lot—that he could concentrate on making her come and then by the time he was ready again, he could fuck her.

So he could have both.

Yes, that was it.

What he really wanted was to grab that gorgeous hair, wrap it around his fists for purchase so he could fuck her face. Not dignified. But he wanted it with so much greed it clawed at him.

She pulled back and looked up at him. The sight of those eyes and the expression on her face shocked him to his toes.

“Is there a problem?” One brow rose.

He laughed, giving in enough to caress her face and head. “Only the wealth of options you present.”

“Liar.”

“I don’t know you well enough yet.”

“Hm. You know me well enough to put your cock in my mouth.”

Put that way . . .

He licked his lips.

“I said I didn’t play games when it came to sex and I meant it. I think you should do the same.”

He didn’t want to scare her off. God knew he wanted at this woman for a while to come. But she was right.

“Get back to work.”

His tone changed, and then his expression did. It sent a shiver through her and there was nothing more she wanted than to do exactly as he’d asked. No. Commanded.

So she did.

She knew he’d been holding back. Could feel the fine muscle tension in his arms as he’d touched her.

And then he shoved his fingers through her hair and tugged hard enough to bring a gasp, which quickly turned into a moan. That did things to her; shivers ran riot over her skin as her control slipped.

He tugged. Using her hair. Bringing her mouth on him closer, sending his cock farther back into her mouth.

She hated it when men touched her head during a blow job. But this was . . . different. Like a whole different planet.

He groaned and thrust as he pulled her forward, using her hair.

She struggled to get her breathing right, fought back panic. But she could do this, damn it. She wanted to do it. Wanted to make him feel good. Got off on the way he handled her, taking what he wanted.

And in a minute or two, she found her rhythm, got her breathing regulated and relaxed.

She hummed and he snarled. The satisfaction of affecting him like that seemed to shoot straight to her nipples, which throbbed in time with her thundering heart.

“Goddamn, yes. Like that. Christ, you’re so fucking hot.”

She held on, breathing, licking and sucking until his taste filled her, the hot wet of him titillated as she took everything he had to give.

And when she pulled back and kissed him, he picked her up, raining kisses all over her face as he moved her to his bed and lay her there with so much care she had to open her eyes to look at him.

He was smiling. “Wow.”

It made her laugh as he joined her, the heat of his body against hers.

“Thanks.”

“Now it’s my turn to get a taste.”