Secretly Craving You (10 page)

"A sexual aid?" Nick asked. "Are you saying this is a two-thousand-year-old dildo?"

"Nick," Emily scolded, her face flushing red.

Greta smiled, then nodded. "Possibly. Most historians are convinced Greek and Roman women used them. So why not other cultures?"

"Yeah, why not?" Nick muttered.

"It could be incredibly valuable," Greta said. "You'll probably want to keep it in a safe place."

* * * *

Late that night, amid flashes of lightning and rumbling thunder, Nick awoke from an erotic dream…he and Emily were in her bed, practically devouring each other. The taste of her sweet mouth, along with her eager response drove him crazy. He rolled between her thighs and…

He sat bolt upright, alone in his own bed. Dammit, was he reading her mind? Was she fantasizing about him right now? He'd had a dream like this about her before, right after he'd met her the first time, but he'd written it off as his own lust and imagination taking over. But what if that wasn't all there was to it? What if she'd been fantasizing about him then, too?

Cursing, Nick shoved himself from the bed and paced, lightning flares piercing the darkness now and then.

He didn't need to see his cock to know it was fully erect and eager for some action. Being around Emily all day had almost driven his crazy. She was so damned beautiful, and the way she looked at him, her dark blue eyes lingering on him, her gaze caressing him…she wanted him. And he sure as hell wanted her, more than any other woman he'd ever met.

What he wouldn't give to taste her, just once.

He grabbed his jeans and started to put them on.

"I can't do this," he muttered, throwing his jeans down. If he went to her, how would he control himself?

Remembering how he'd stroked her luscious body and got her off in Atlanta, he cursed. That had been so damned good. His whole body ached with the need to touch her again, to give her an orgasm. He wouldn't have sex with her. He would just make her come.

After dragging on his jeans, he felt the handcuffs in the pocket. He'd cleaned them a few hours ago, fantasizing the whole time about handcuffing her to the bed, just like that scene in her sexy romance book.

He was an idiot for even considering it…but her fantasy intruded on his thoughts again. Her legs spread wide, she was touching herself, rubbing her fingers in a circle over her wet, swollen clit.

He ground his teeth at how hot that was.

In the next image that invaded his brain, her arms were stretched above her head, and her wrists secured in his handcuffs. He pushed her thighs up and apart…

Dammit, he couldn't wait any longer to see her, to taste her. After yanking open the door, he climbed the stairs and quietly strode barefoot down the dim hallway to her door and paused, lightning illuminating the way.

Hell!
He shouldn't do this. If he knocked, if he went into that bedroom, he'd want to do a lot more than touch her with his hands and mouth. He wanted it all. Everything. To take her every way possible. But with Emily, it wouldn't simply be a quick fuck. It would be something he'd never forget. Something he wouldn't want to walk away from.

But he couldn't have everything he wanted. He would handcuff her and lick her head to toe. What would she taste like? He had to know.

He knocked lightly at the door.

His psychic vision had ended, but he suspected she was right on the edge of orgasm and he wanted to be there for that, and be the cause of it.

"Emily?" he said, fighting the urge to turn the knob and walk in.

Moments later, the door inched open. She wore a short pink robe and looked completely edible in the soft lamplight. Her hair was slightly mussed, her eyes dark with yearning, her lips parted. She appeared beyond speech. Her breathing was shallow and erratic.

"Can I come in?" he asked, arousal churning through him, urging him to dive in for a kiss. But he must maintain control.

"Umm…yes." Her words were husky and little more than a whisper. Her eyes searched his.

He inhaled, drawing in her female fragrance…the sweet, erotic scent of her essence.

"I know what you were doing." His cock was fully hard, eager to slide between those wet sex lips. He had to see them, touch them, taste them.

A blush reddened her face and throat. "Trying to sleep."

He shook his head. "No."

"So, what was I doing?" Annoyance sharpened her tone, yet her darkened eyes ate him up.

"You really want me to tell you?" he murmured, then glanced down at her nipples, protruding through the thin silky material of her robe, making him ache.

She bit her lip, remaining silent.

"I'm psychic sometimes. Remember?" he asked.

"Oh." The blush intensified. "Well, if you're so psychic why don't you figure out where the killer is and send in the police?"

"I would if I could, but it doesn't work like that. I see what I see. I was never able to learn to control it. What I do know is that you're fantasizing about us—together—and touching yourself."

Her mouth dropped open. "Are you insane?"

He tried to hold back his grin. "Most likely."

"So now you read minds, do you?"

He nodded. "Yours. I know what you want." Though it was threatening his sanity, he wanted to play with her again. Maybe fulfill some of her fantasies. And his own.

He slid his hand into his jeans pocket, pulled out the handcuffs and dangled them from a finger. "Look what I brought."

She frowned and her nipples hardened further beneath that silk robe, making his mouth water. "What? You're going to arrest me?" Her tone was defensive and irritated, but beneath that, he felt her powerful arousal.

He grinned. "If that's the game you want to play."

"I don't want to play any games. I want you to…to go back to your room." She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding those luscious nipples.

"Liar," he said just above a whisper.

She approached him and gently pushed him toward the door—a feeble effort even for her small frame—but her hand lingered on one of his biceps, squeezed. Her other hand, cool and silky, pressed against his bare chest. She inhaled, and let out a breath that sounded like a soft sigh.

"Go, damn you," she said in a husky whisper. "You don't know the meaning of…"

"Turn me loose!" Emily tried to yank her wrists from Nick's unbreakable grip. Though if he let go, she'd hunger for his touch even more fiercely.

"That's not what you want," he murmured, his breath heating her cheek as he lightly brushed his lips over her skin. "Is it?"

Tingles covered her from her neck to her toes and her heart pounded furiously. "Yes." She tried to yell, but the words only came out a soft whisper.

But Nick was right. His hands restraining her, holding her arms above her head were making her hotter. Why didn't he kiss her? She was dying for the masculine taste of him, the harsh rasp of his stubble against her chin, the thrust of his tongue. She wanted a hard, driving kiss from him.

"I know what you fantasize about, little-miss-innocent." His breath skated over her lips. His dark, taunting expression both infuriated and aroused her.

"I'm not innocent, and you don't have a clue what I fantasize about."

He gave a smirking grin. "I've seen your stash of naughty books in the nightstand."

"How…what were you doing in my nightstand?"

"I searched your house, remember?"

She could think of nothing intelligent to say. So he'd read her erotic romance novels while searching her house? How could he have had time, and why was he interested in her reading material, anyway?

She was too distracted by his mouth-watering, bare pecs and abs, as well as that intriguing protrusion behind his zipper to ask.

Leaning in, he captured her mouth, and immediately, she was ready to consume him. She opened her mouth and he drove his tongue in with a primal growl. His tongue stroked hers, then flicked the roof of her mouth.

"Mmm." He tasted so good, so male and aroused.

"Damn," he breathed, then urged her to the bed, made her lie back on it and took the steel handcuffs into his other hand. That kiss, along with his dominance and manhandling, made her lightheaded with anticipation.

She tried to jerk away from him, at least she pretended to, but he already had one cuff secured around her wrist. He lifted her arms and ran the cuffs around the headboard post, then snapped her other wrist in. Maybe she should've fought him, kicked, yelled and screamed. But arousal had robbed her body of strength. Besides, why would she want to escape her own fantasy?

She'd always known it would be stupid to get involved with him, but she'd also known if he made a move on her, she'd never be able to resist. Craving him was as natural to her as breathing. It was something she'd lived with for three years. She couldn't say
no
to someone she wanted more than anything or anyone on earth.

She tested the strength of the handcuffs. The cool metal bit into her skin, a sharp, electrifying contrast to his hot hands sliding down her arms.

"I read that scene in the book where the pages were dog-eared. Hell, the spine of the book was broken you'd read that scene so many times. I know you fantasize about being handcuffed to a bed. Don't you?" He observed her with fascination. Normally, his steady gaze was piercing and unreadable, but now his eyes had darkened with deep arousal. Seeing how much he wanted her nearly took her breath away.

What he said was true. In her fantasies, Nick was always the hard, edgy cop who handcuffed her to a bed—and a lot of other wicked things.

What was he going to do to her next? Would he rip off her meager clothes? She could hope. He was already shirtless and barefoot, and she wished he would remove his jeans.

"If you want loose and want me to leave, just say
I hate you
." He waited, not touching her. She liked the way he played, wanting to fulfill her fantasies but also make her feel secure and protected at the same time.

Of course, she didn't hate him. Nor did she want him to leave her bedroom. Her body hummed with anticipation and yearning. Prickles of need swirled through her pussy. She'd love any part of him stroking against it, his fingers, his cock…

"I also searched your lingerie drawer," he confessed. "I found your vibrator."

Heat rushing over her, she squeezed her eyes shut, though she didn't know why it should bother her. So she owned a vibrator. So what? Most women did these days. Her marriage had crumbled more than two years ago, and she'd certainly not been ready to date or have random sex with strangers. But she was still a woman with sexual needs.

"I don't like it," she said.

"What?"

"The vibrator. It's just a cold piece of plastic. Not a flesh-and-blood man with a hard, hot cock."

He frowned, his jaw clenched hard as if her words made him ache. His silver eyes had turned smoky, his lashes lowered. "I'm going to untie your robe belt."

Her heart rate skyrocketing, she remained silent, simply trying to breathe evenly. She had fantasized about this bad boy for the past three years. Her crotch was soaked, and her legs were trembling. Waves of heat and shivers passed over her skin because, dammit, now she had a crush on Nick. Actually, she'd had a crush on him longer than she cared to admit. He drew her on much more than a physical level. He stirred up her emotions even more intensely than he did her body.

"What do you say?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes," she whispered, wanting her clothes off. And his. Her skin ached to have his hot naked body sliding along it. To feel those hard pecs, and his washboard abs pressed against her.

He tugged at the belt and gently parted the robe. She wasn't wearing a nightgown. She'd only had time to yank on her panties when he'd knocked…as she was approaching orgasm. She hadn't wanted to stop, but the idea of seeing Nick during such an erotic moment had been too enticing to resist.

"I was hoping to find you naked under here." Stroking his slightly roughened fingertips over her stomach, along her ribcage and beneath her bare breasts, he covered her body in tingles of anticipation.

Touch me.

She almost asked, her hard nipples aching to be squeezed and tormented by his fingers. With his teasing touch, intense chills covered her and she gasped. Her back arched off the bed before she could prevent it.

"Nick?"

"Hmm?" Using both hands, he hooked his fingers into her pink bikini panties, gently slid them down her thighs and tossed them aside. "Damn, you're wet," he murmured and blew out a breath.

She glanced down at his jeans fly and the protrusion behind it. "And you're hard."

His eyes met hers. "You got that right."

So, bare that gorgeous cock and put it to use.

Placing a knee on the bed beside her and bending forward, he placed gentle kisses between her breasts, inhaled deeply and moaned. His expression soulful and filled with need, he brushed his lips across one nipple, then pressed an adoring kiss to the tip.

Wanting to sink her fingers into his hair and tug him closer, she yanked at the handcuffs, making them rattle. "Yes." She arched her back, pushing her breast more firmly against his mouth. His stubble stimulated her, taunted her.

"Mmm." He flicked his tongue against her aching nipple.

"Oh my god, Nick," she gasped. "Yes. Please."

He drew in a hissing breath. His expression was scorching and infinitely aroused. "Tell me what you want."

"Suck my nipples," she whispered, ashamed to ask, but at the same time desperate. "Please."

"Damn, I love hearing you say that," he growled, then tugged one tip into his hot, wet mouth and nibbled on it as if he wanted to devour her.

A shock went from her breast to her pussy. She cried out, writhing. Having Nick do these amazing, erotic things to her was beyond her comprehension. Especially after having fantasized about him for so long. Reality was far better than her dreams.

"More," she requested.

He lavished her other nipple with kisses and a delightful tonguing. This only made her more restless, more desperate to experience all of him.

Moving down, he kissed a trail along her stomach, then flicked his tongue into her belly button. The scruffy stubble on his chin rasped her sensitive skin, slightly painful, but so electrically stimulating. She was afraid to think about where he was headed, lower and lower. Would he do what she hoped? Something her own ex-husband had never wanted to do to her?

She held her breath, waiting.

Nick brushed his lips against her pubic hair and gave a soft moan, his breath heating her mound. Oh, it took all her strength not to arch into him and beg him. When he sat back on his knees and urged her thighs apart, she spread them willingly. She couldn't help herself. No one had ever done this to her and she wondered what it would feel like. She also wondered why Nick wanted to. Was he truly as giving and caring as he seemed, despite being a rough-edged bad boy?

His heated gaze locked on her exposed pussy. "Baby, you're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, then lowered his head, his breath whispering across her inner thigh.

I can't watch. I can't watch.

His thumbs spread her at the same time he stroked his searing, wet tongue up along her sensitive lips. She gasped, her back arching, and held herself open and ready for him. Her moisture trickled out with a slight tickling sensation and deep inside, she ached for him.

"Nick." Her voice was almost a sob. She wanted him so bad she almost begged.

He slid his finger into her, and her inner muscles clutched at it. With his tongue, he lapped at her sensitized clit. She couldn't have imagined how a tongue would feel stimulating her—hot, slick and gentle, but at the same time, firm and velvety-rough.

"Nick, please."
I don't want your finger. I want your cock.
But she couldn't bring herself to say those words to him. She was moaning, or was it whining? Desperate for more, desperate for relief. Desperate to have his big cock driving into her hard, fast and deep. She'd never been this aroused in her life.

"Yeah, baby, that's it." He withdrew his finger and stroked his tongue along her sensitive lips. "Damn, your pussy's sweet. I knew it would be." He slid his tongue into her, then went crazy flicking her clit.

She squirmed, writhed. "Oh my god, Nick," she gasped at the overload of pleasure and erotic sensation.

"Is that good?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Yes," she hissed. "So good."

"You're so damn hot," he growled, sliding two fingers in and drawing them out, his cock tenting his jeans. She needed it so badly she trembled.

He stared into her eyes, his darkened by arousal…and emotion. She would give anything to know what he was feeling right now. Was he as deeply affected as she was?

He dropped down and licked her clit again, sucked at it, while he continued sliding his fingers. She grew frenzied, her legs spread wide as they'd go.

Holding onto the post she was handcuffed to, she waited while the tingling orgasm approached like a massive tidal wave, her whole body trembling, drawn tight. The overwhelming sensations smashed into her and she screamed. Scalding, violent pleasure consumed her. She shoved herself toward him, needing his weight on her, longing to have him crush her into the mattress as he ground his cock into her.

The orgasm was so intense it bordered on pain. She almost blacked out and her ears buzzed. Wow…how great would it have felt if he'd been inside her?

When the climax ebbed, she found she needed him still. Fingers were nowhere near as good as his cock would be, and that's what she craved.

As she tried to catch her breath, he unlocked the handcuffs and removed them from her wrists.

"Nick." She reached for him, but he stepped back. "I want you," she whispered, hoping he wouldn't make her beg.