Only for the Night (If Only Book 2) (20 page)

Sage tried to move away, to give herself some breathing space, not from Hank but from the conversation. He wouldn’t be budged. When she tried again, that hand delved into her hair just like before, this time gently holding her still. Still, a delicious tingle of pain crossed her sore scalp. Sage closed her eyes and tilted her head into his grip, unconsciously begging for more.

“Look at her, Hank. Really look.” Satisfaction saturated V.’s words. “See that? That look says it all. Not fear, not abuse—that look is need. You can be what she needs if you’ll let yourself.”

Hank’s hands started to shake, the shiver spreading down his body as it pressed into hers. “I can’t hurt her. I can’t.”

“You can. You are,” V. told him, “but her body isn’t registering it as pain, not really. Look at her.”

And Sage let her control go, let herself give in to need. Let herself accept that maybe, just maybe V. was right. She did need this, and Hank could give it to her. Maybe they could both heal from pasts that had wounded them. She gave in and pushed her aching breasts into Hank’s solid chest. “Please,” she begged.

“I don’t—”

V. stared hard at Hank, and Sage swore he was trying to will his friend into believing with every molecule of his being. “You know the answer. And you know what you have to do if you want to keep her: find the balance, for both of you. Let me show you. Teach you. Trust me, Hank. You can take care of her.”

Sage met Hank’s tortured eyes, and she couldn’t resist.
Please
, she mouthed. Please try. If dominance ended up not being right for him, well…they’d face that crossroads if they came to it.

Hank seemed to agree. He closed the distance between them, their mouths clashing together, and Sage prayed he was saying yes. Despite his control, despite the way he took over her senses and pushed everything away but him, his tongue tasted like surrender in her mouth.

“And with that, I think I’m done for the night.”

Sage wasn’t listening—all she could hear was the thundering of her heart and the speeding up of her breath. It was all she wanted to hear for now. Hank didn’t seem to be tracking either. From what she could glimpse around Hank’s side, V. didn’t care either way. He rumbled something about seeing them in the morning and disappeared down the hall. She glanced up, into Hank’s smoldering gaze. The air between them went electric, as if the absence of other bodies allowed space for the spark flickering between them to suddenly ignite.

She didn’t think he’d be needing his room tonight.

Hank tucked his chin until his warm breath brushed her earlobe. “It’s been a long night,” he said, voice taking on the hoarse edge of arousal.

That sound… The tension that had settled on Sage’s shoulders as they’d argued finally released the last fingers of its hold. When she slid her palms up his chest to grip the thick ropes of muscle along his shoulders, she found him hot to the touch but not tense. “It has.”

Hank’s lips closed around her lobe. The warm suction tore a moan from her throat.

Well, the night isn’t
totally
over.

Hank released her ear only to drag his nose along the sensitive skin of her neck. She heard a long inhale. Was he as fascinated by her scent as she was his? He always smelled of musk and cinnamon sugar.

“So sweet,” he whispered against her skin.

Maybe their scents matched. If only they fit as well in the bedroom.

Hank’s hands dropped to her hips and dragged her closer with a groan. He took her mouth as he ground a hard-as-nails erection against her pelvis.

Okay, maybe they matched this way too.

When he finally drew back from their kiss, they were both gasping for air. Hank’s grin was self-satisfied and sexy as hell. He ran a thumb along her cheekbone. “Sage…I might not know my way around this thing between us. I might not understand it all, and I might be feeling my way, but there’s one thing V. was right about.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” The same rough edge in Hank’s voice had crept into hers.

His hands slid down to cup her ass cheeks. “I definitely like control.”

“I don’t think I’d have ever guessed that about you.” Which was a total lie. She’d guessed, but the way he held himself back had made her uncertain. Now she understood—he was making sure he never hurt a woman the way he’d seen Tara hurt. He had plenty of control; he just used it on himself. Considering how big he was, it made sense in a twisted way. If only he could see himself the way she saw him, he’d know that, no matter how rough passion made him, he wouldn’t truly hurt her.

Maybe that was something she could teach him.

Hank raised an eyebrow at her sarcasm. Before she could guess what he was planning, he stepped back, gripped her waist, and then he bent over and tugged her hip tight against his shoulder.

“What—”

Hank tossed her over his back. The sudden shift knocked a
whoop
from her lungs. He was halfway down the hall before she could draw another breath. Her core reacted much more quickly.

“Hank!”

“Hang on, baby.”

She did—everywhere she could touch. As Hank closed the door to her room behind them and flicked the lock, she let her hands wander over slim hips, thick thighs. He took one step, two, and the play of muscles beneath her fingertips amazed her. Aroused her. She wanted to lick those muscles—among other things, things her hands were getting fairly close to.

Hank shifted to flip her over his shoulder and let her slide down his body until her toes curled into the plush rug on her bedroom floor. “Thanks, He-Man,” she teased as she trailed her fingers along his bulging biceps. His tattoos called to her—she’d never found out if they tasted different under her tongue. When she leaned in and traced the eyes of the tiger staring out at the world from his skin, Hank hissed her name.

She peeked up at him and couldn’t hold back a grin at the impatience hardening his face.

Hank dragged her closer. “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

The demand hardened her nipples. She met his eyes, those sexy hazel eyes, and the answer came to her—not a sexual act, not a position, but an attitude.

“I need you to let go.”

Hank frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Hank…you’re always holding back. I understand it now, understand why you’re afraid to let go, but I don’t need you to hold back. I want you in all your passion, rough or soft; I want you to give in to the hunger that rides you so hard”—she rose on tiptoe to whisper in his ear—“and then I need you to ride me.”

The
me
was barely out before Hank tackled her to the floor.

The rug cushioned her back as it met the ground, but even so, Hank’s hands were there, cradling her, easing her down under him. Only when she was safe and settled did he let loose again. His body came down on top of hers, the weight of him taking her breath as she felt it fully for the very first time. So good. She’d always loved that heavy feel, and Hank’s solid weight pressed her hard into the floor, so hard she struggled to breathe, but she didn’t want him to move. Never. She wanted him on top of her forever. Instead of struggling, she pulled him closer and opened her knees wide to allow his hips to fill the space. Cradling him…there was nothing like it.

She arched up, wishing she could meld their bodies together. “Hank, please.” And then she hesitated, realizing something. “What about V.?”

“He’ll pretend he can’t hear us if he wants to live.”

His mouth skimmed her neck, the curve of her shoulder. When he kissed her there, sparks shot down her body. He didn’t just kiss, though—he devoured, mouth open, teeth nipping, tongue laving. She whimpered and turned her head, offering herself to him completely.

It wasn’t enough, not for Hank. He lifted himself with one hand—and oh, what that did to his biceps—and gripped the hem of her shirt with the other, jerking upward. Sage found herself summarily bared, only the thin lace of her bra protecting her from his sight. She didn’t want to be protected. Arching her back, she reached beneath her and undid the clasp. Hank was back at her throat, kissing, sucking, nuzzling as if he couldn’t get enough of her. His hands roamed restlessly, and when her bra went slack, he jerked it away as well. His rough fingers rolled her taut nipple until Sage thought she might scream from the pleasure swamping her.

She wanted his skin too, and went after it. She tugged his T-shirt until it came free of his jeans. Smooth skin rippled beneath her hands as she smoothed the shirt up his body. Thick ropes of muscle lined the furrow of his spine. Sage followed them up until she could pull the fabric over his head. It got in Hank’s way, and when he pushed up, allowing first one arm and then the other to be freed, his gaze locked on Sage’s naked breasts.

“Holy shit, you have the most beautiful breasts.”

She giggled. She couldn’t help it; this fierce man with more power in his little finger than she had in her whole body combined was staring at her nipples with actual greed. Would he still be doing that the tenth time he’d seen them? The one thousandth? “You have such a way with words.”

“You won’t be laughing when I’m singing about those nipples onstage.” He dipped his head to rub his five o’clock shadow across one pink nub.

“You wouldn’t,” she gasped, both from the threat and the pleasure-pain of his stubble.

He raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

The tender points tightened until they felt like they might burst, straining toward him, begging without words for more of his touch. A surprised squeak escaped her when Hank latched on. He didn’t lick, didn’t prepare her; no, he simply sucked her in and drew on her with such determination that Sage’s back came off the rug. Her eyes closed in bliss, and she cupped his head, feeling the bristle of his hair scratching along her palms and the tender skin of her breast as she pulled him closer.

Hank undid the button of her pants when he switched sides. He stripped her lower half one-handed. He didn’t bother with removing his jeans, simply shoved them down enough to free his cock and pushed inside in one smooth stroke.

She hadn’t known she was close until she felt her body splitting wide around him, felt an orgasm sneak down her spine and slam her unexpectedly. She choked, convulsed, unaware of the cry she let loose until the final notes echoed in her ears. When she peeled her eyes open, it was to see a grimace on Hank’s face as he shuddered above her, obviously trying to hold back.

“Hank?”

He eased out of her. “Condom,” he rasped. “Forgot.”

“Oh.” So had she. He hovered over her as he prepared himself and wasted no time slipping back inside her warm depths. Her sigh was ragged around the edges. “God,” she wheezed. “So big.”

“Now who’s good with words?”

She clamped her body down around him. “Don’t need words,” she rasped. “Just need you.” She pulled his head to hers and took the kiss she wanted. It wasn’t long before Hank took over. His tongue tangled with hers; his teeth nipped at her tender lips. He drew his knees up under her legs to give him leverage and thrust into her with the evenness of a metronome—but he didn’t let himself go.

Sage felt her frustration rise.

“Hank, damn it.” She reached between them, tracing the surging muscles of his belly as he pushed into her, ground their pelvises together. She found that sweet trail of hair below his navel, leading her down, down, and when he retreated the next time, she slid her fingers around his wet cock.

“Shit!”

As if her touch was electricity, Hank jerked upright. His big hands went to her hips, and then he was dragging her down hard, kicking his hips forward to shaft her over and over and over. The power in his body surprised her, bruised her, fascinated her. She lifted her pelvis high, desperate to get closer, to get every damn inch of him inside her. Her climax balled up in her stomach muscles, her core, tightening, tightening, the promise of release right there at the edge of her consciousness. She bowed her back as hard as she could, held her thighs wide, needing it, needing him, and with one final shove into her body, Hank set her off.

“Sage! Shit!” The words came out in a distorted groan as Hank jerked above her in a frenzy of thrusts before every muscle seemed to seize. The rhythmic kick of his cock inside her triggered aftershocks that had her digging her nails into the tense muscles of his ass, desperate for closer, more, deeper, even on the downward slide of orgasm.

Long moments later Hank collapsed onto her, then rolled to put her above him. She sprawled over his torso, her body like jelly. Even if she’d wanted to move, she couldn’t, especially with the ache in her back. At the thought, a quiet laugh escaped.

“Think that was funny?” Hank’s words came out hoarse.

“Well yeah. We didn’t even make it to the bed.”

“Beds are overrated,” he said, but his shifting beneath her said she wasn’t the only one with an ache in her back.

“Uh-huh.” Sage patted his bare chest.

He tilted her chin up for another one of those rough kisses. “Come on,” he muttered against her mouth. “Stand up. I’m not finished with you yet.”

“Thank God.”
And thank you, for trusting me.
She didn’t say the words, but she was sure he could see them when he pulled her down on top of him once more.