Kristin Hardy - Bad Behaviour

HIS ROOM WAS DARK, the louvered doors closed. The first thing Delaney did was walk over and open them up wide.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to hear the ocean.” She went out on the balcony to look down at the darkened beach, the lights of Cozumel beyond. The top of the waist-high wall surrounding the balcony was a planter full of lush tropical ferns. She turned to face Dom, sitting on the edge of the low wall to enjoy the sight of him coming toward her. He’d been a good-looking kid, but that was nothing compared to how he looked as an adult. The soft boyishness was gone from his face, replaced by hard planes, as though the excess had been stripped away to show the man beneath. It showed even in the way he moved, not a swagger, exactly, but a stride of pure confidence, pure focus.

And she was his focus now.

It made her shiver as he stopped before her, stood between her parted legs. His shirt gapped open, showing the dip and flow of muscle beneath. Slowly, softly, she traced her fingertips over the corrugations in his belly. It quivered at her touch. His breath hissed in.

Intentionally taking her time, Delaney reached for his shirt and unfastened the last button, then pushed the garment off his shoulders. Hands shaking just a little, she unfastened his belt buckle. “Time for this to go, I think,” she said as lightly as she could manage and unbuttoned the waistband of the shorts below. “And these.”

The shorts dropped. His gaze never wavering from hers, he stepped out of the garment and stood there before her, utterly naked and completely gorgeous in the night.

Her mouth went dry. Mesmerized, she slid down off the balcony edge. “So I guess it’s true what they say about big hands.”

“Why don’t you get some of your clothes off? It’s hot out here,” he murmured, reaching for the hem of her dress but she moved her hands away.

“You’re right, it is hot,” she said quickly, sinking down on the chaise lounge tucked in a corner of the balcony. “And I bet it’s going to get hotter.”

She’d never actually seen him when they’d been kids, never touched him intimately. She’d been in the middle of a memory storm all night, but in this moment, everything was new. This had nothing to do with the Jake she’d known as a boy. This was Dom, the man. He came to her now. And as she nuzzled the silky soft skin of his cock, she knew that this was what she had wanted.

And oh, he had a beautiful cock, long and thick, standing up stiff and hard. She pointed her tongue and licked the small ridge below the base of his glans.

He made a little involuntary sound.

Delaney smiled and did it again, harder this time. Then she licked him from base to tip, stroking that sensitive patch of skin over and over, feeling his cock twitch with her every touch. Tilting her head slightly, she opened her mouth to suck on the shaft so that her lips were half around him, moving her head just to tease him, letting him feel the warm heat on one side and nothing on the other. She held him in place with one hand, slid the other up his back, over the marble-hard cheeks of his ass.

And she was betting it was a perfect ass, but as hard as it was, it was nothing compared to his cock. Hunger stirred in her and she substituted her hand for her lips, stroking the hard shaft of him as she positioning her mouth over his glans. And then she took him deep and fast.

It ripped a groan from him. And how was it that as she licked his most sensitive spots, she was the one who was feeling the growing heat of arousal between her thighs? There was no mouth on her breasts, no hands between her thighs, only the sound and the textures, the hard and the soft of giving him pleasure. She moved the circle of her mouth over his shaft, working him with one hand below, where she couldn’t reach.

And then she took a breath and bobbed her head down, taking him deep, taking him all the way in.

A curse exploded out of his lips. His fingers clutched her shoulders, digging in mindlessly as she did it again, then once more. And then he was holding her head with shaking hands. “Stop or I’m going to lose it right now.”

“So lose it.”

“No way. There’s too much else I want to do.” He drew her to her feet. “And the first thing is to get you out of that dress.”

He dragged the green fabric up over her head. Delaney raised her arms up to help him, laughing softly. “Aren’t you worried about being naked out on the balcony?”

“I don’t give a damn,” he muttered, pressing her back down on the chaise. “Besides, if you’d stop arguing and lay back, you’d be out of sight.”

And with a chuckle of delight, she obeyed.

For a minute, he simply stood and stared at her. It made Delaney’s breath come faster, the look of total absorption, discovery in his eyes. Then he started to touch. His hands were urgent and a little bit rough as he unsnapped the clasp of her bra and peeled back the cups. Like being tugged out of the bar, it turned her on in some elemental way. She liked it a little rough. She liked him rough.

When he bent to her, she drew in a breath of giddy expectation. She could feel the heat of his mouth on her skin. At the touch of his tongue on her nipple, she said his name. But when he blew on it, bringing her a momentary chill, he won a moan from her. And the dark red nub furled into a tight bead.

Delaney stared in awe. “You didn’t know how to do this in eighth grade.”

As though ravenous, he drew her nipples into his mouth one at a time, sucking them, licking them as he molded her breasts with his hands. Each touch sent a pulse through her body, setting up an answering throb of arousal lower down. Lightly, playfully he bit at one of her nipples with his teeth, sending a sensation through her like an electrical shock.

She jolted and gave a strangled cry. “You definitely didn’t know how to do this back in eighth grade,” she gasped, fighting for breath as he did it again.

He shifted, licking his way down over her flat belly. “I’ve learned a few things since then. Want me to show you?”

“Show and tell was always my favorite part of school,” she managed, moving against that wet, tantalizing touch, the light brush of fingers that had her shivering.

“Me, too. Although maybe I should concentrate on the tell part—I’m better with my mouth.” He moved down, settling between her parted legs, curving his arms around them, his rough cheek next to her skin.

Delaney prepared for his onslaught, but all he did was lick first one thigh, then another. Slowly, he kissed his way closer to where she ached for him to touch her. When he finally did, it was only with the tip of his tongue, stroking those private lips folded protectively together. She quivered at the contact. He gave a long, leisurely stroke of his tongue, then another, tracing a gradual furrow into where she was already slick and hot and wanting. With his fingers, he traced the dip, then for a breathless, whirling instant, he opened her to his gaze, his breath.

And then the shocking heat of his mouth was on her.

Her body bucked against him. He’d learned, oh, he’d learned since junior high, things she’d never had any idea of back then. Liquid caresses, slick patterns that tormented as much as they satisfied. If his tongue had teased her in their kisses, that was nothing compared to what it was doing to her now, flicking over her clit, stroking it. And each touch sent a pulse of arousal to every part of her body. She moved helplessly, moaned as the tension wound tighter, like an arc of heat across her hips.

When he brought one of his hands back under her, she barely noticed. Until his fingertips moved lower to find other places, other sensations even as his tongue and lips drove her relentlessly.