Roni Loren - Need You Tonight

Her fists curled into her palms, the binding around her wrists tightening as she flexed. And a sudden shot of nerves went through her. “Van, I’m going to come. People will hear .”

Because there was no way she was going to be able to keep quiet.

In the span of two seconds, Van lifted away from her and reached for something from one of the bowls behind her. “Open and bite down.”

Her eyes widened, but she did what he said. He tucked a fat orange wedge between her lips, then was back in position like he’d never paused. His tongue glided over her center then he sucked her clit between his lips and tugged. She shattered. Her back lifted off the table and she bit down hard on the orange, the juice squirting into her mouth and dripping down the corners of her lips as she cried out. Van dug his fingers into her ass to hold her in place and his mouth dipped precariously lower, teasing a forbidden place that had never felt a man’s touch much less his tongue. Light broke behind her eyes, splintering into color, and she groaned low and deep.

Her orgasm climbed another step higher instead of relenting, and the orange fell from her mouth. She began to pant, trying to bank her noises, and her body shook with the force of a release that felt like it’d been building for months. “I can’t, I can’t …”

Van was over her before her next breath. He clamped his hand over her mouth, his eyes dark with desire. “Just let it have you, baby. I don’t give a damn who hears you. But I’ll help keep you quiet if you want me to.”

She nodded. He moved his hand away from her mouth and yanked his shirt tails from his pants, wiping the olive oil on it, then he pulled a foil packet from his back pocket. He ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth and undid his pants.

“Give me one more, beautiful. I know you have it in you.”

With that, he positioned himself at her entrance and pushed inside. A gasp escaped her, the feel of him stretching her an exquisite shock to her system. Her body resisted despite her slickness—the feeling almost foreign again. But the edge of discomfort was the most decadent kind of pain. She wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to open herself fully. She needed all of him. Right. Now.

“Lord, baby, you’re gripping me so hard,” he groaned. “Am I hurting you?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “A good hurt.”

The wicked gleam that flared in his eyes had her thoughts emptying.

“Mmm, my favorite kind.” He rocked forward, his eyes closing as his fingers dug into her hips, and he buried himself deep. His body shuddered along with hers, the remnants of her orgasm still sending aftershocks through her. “Oh, fuck, yes. You’re so hot around me. I can feel your pussy trying to milk my cock.”

She bit her lip, the dirty talk an unfamiliar experience but not an unwelcome one. To hear such a seemingly sophisticated man talk so coarsely did something to her, made her feel like she was seeing the primal version behind the curtain. “You have a filthy mouth, Van.”

“And you fucking love it,” he said, leaning down and licking the sticky orange juice at the corner of her mouth, as he thrust into her again. “You blush, but your eyes go hot. You’re not craving polite.”

She gasped as he angled just right inside her. “I don’t know what I crave.”

“Yes, you do.” He rocked into her harder and with more speed. “You said it yourself. You want to use and be used. Come again for me, baby. Use my cock. Let me feel you break apart beneath me.”

He braced one hand next to her head and tucked the other between them, stroking her clit with every thrust of his hips. Her lids fluttered shut as the tide of sensation built to a breaking point.

“Eyes on me, gorgeous. I want you to see who’s fucking you. And I want to watch you go under.”

She forced her gaze upward, the intensity of his stare burning through her. His dark blond hair had fallen forward and the twinkle lights sparkled above him, a fierce lion with a gilded mane. Then he smiled. And she lost it. The cry that roared up her vocal cords would’ve been loud enough to be heard at the restaurant downstairs, but he levered down and kissed her, capturing the desperate sound before it escaped. She poured everything she had into that kiss as her body went molten around him.

He pressed his palm against her bound wrists, pinning her to the table and pumping into her hard enough to rattle the bowls behind her. Her orgasm rolled through her in powerful, crushing waves and he tore away from the kiss, his groan of pleasure raking over her senses as he sunk deep and spilled inside her.

“Fuck, baby,” he said, letting his forehead meet hers, his chest rising and falling with panted breaths. “So much for the slow and easy evening I had imagined. I promise I at least planned to feed you first.”

She laughed beneath him, overcome with some weird combination of euphoria and the bizarreness of the whole situation. Here she was lying naked on a restaurant table with a perfect stranger slathered in olive oil and orange juice and drifting down from the best orgasm of her life. Who was this woman?

He chuckled along with her and reached up to untie her hands. “We’re a mess.”

“But my skin is now exceptionally moisturized, and I smell amazing ,” she said, grinning.

“Indeed it is.” He pressed an openmouthed kiss to her sticky neck and inhaled. “And yes, you do. Citrus and sex, let’s bottle that.”

Her stomach flipped at the words. Citrus and sex were what her kitchen had smelled like after she’d found Doug. She’d thought she’d never be able to smell orange juice again without thinking of that horrible day. But Van had rewired her associations in a few mind-blowing moments. Now she wanted to roll around in that scent. “We’ll make millions.”

“No doubt.” Van gave her another quick kiss then eased out of her. He turned to discreetly strip off the condom and zipped up before looking back in her direction. “Remind me next time to not take no for an answer on bringing you back to my place. At least there I’d have a shower and towels to offer you.”

She rolled her wrists and then pushed up on her elbows, offering him a smile, but knowing there would be no next time. That’d been their agreement, her one condition. Tonight could only be an escape. A fantasy.

She couldn’t handle any more than that.

Especially with a guy who could make her feel like this. One who could make her feel this wanted and sexy, this … special. She knew she was definitely not the latter for him. Van was way too smooth and confident—a seducer. She doubted his bed was ever cold.

He was a playboy.

He was a temptation she couldn’t afford.

Kade Vandergriff smiled when he heard soft snores coming from his left. Oh, how quickly a shitty day had morphed into an amazing evening. When he’d headed out tonight for location visits, all his frustration from a completely useless session with his attorney about their seemingly winless case had come along with him. It probably would’ve been wise to go home afterward to let himself settle down. But he hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of pacing the halls of his big, empty house for the night. The silence and space would’ve made him crazy.

So he’d driven into Dallas to visit his restaurants, hoping to channel all the crap from the day into a productive evening. But after only a few hours into his drop-in visits, his frustration hadn’t gone away but had instead morphed into nebulous, growing anger. By the time he’d arrived at Barcelona and discovered three of their most popular dishes had been eighty-sixed because of the manager’s oversight, Kade had been on the verge of a Gordon Ramsay moment.