Page 30 of Hot Nights in Morocco
“You have from the beginning. I told you that already.”
Shimmying out of his embrace, I turn to face him, taking in his sleepy, sexy eyes and the black stubble shadowing his jaw. He looks majestic and unobtainable, a true Hollywood prince. “Are things going to get awkward now?” I rest my head on my hand, ignoring the slight tremor in my voice.
He smirks and mimics my stance. “Not after that performance.”
“Oh?” I like this lighter side of Jake. It’s making all the right body parts tingle. “What happens if the next time we make love it’s below par? Will Max slip me a written warning during one of our daily debriefs? Mr. Dalton, this is a highly pressurized working environment.”
Jake raises an eyebrow at me. “Next time? This is a one night only deal, Books. I thought I made that clear.”
“But it’s only four a.m.,” I say glancing at the clock on his nightstand. “Technically it’s not morning yet, so technically—”
“I can still fuck the shit out of you,” he finishes, lunging for me and pulling me into his embrace.
Before I can stop him, he’s rolling me over, imprisoning me against the full length of his body and enticing me into some lazy, protracted tongue sparring.
“Look at me,” he orders, breaking away.
I open my eyes and my heart jerks sharply. Jake Dalton up-close and personal is fast becoming my favorite sight.
“Good. Now keep them open. Eyes on me, always.”
He starts to trail kisses down my body, starting with the glide of my throat and then to my breasts, teasing each nipple between his teeth in a way that has my back arching as spikes of wildfire pierce my core.
“Aphrodite,” I hear him murmur, flicking his tongue expertly back and forth as I continue to writhe helplessly beneath him. “You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever had the pleasure of debasing.”
I freeze.
Empty bed talk.
He doesn’t mean it.
He can’t.
Sensing the change in mood, he looks up with a quizzical expression on his face. “Oh, don’t you dare,” he snarls, trapping my chin with his thumb and forefinger and forcing me to look at him. “Never,evercompare yourself to them.”
To whom?
His legion of ex-lovers?
To Cassie?
Before I can ask, he’s climbing back up the bed and grinding his hips into mine. I follow his lead as a flood of desire smashes into me like a tidal wave.
“That’s better,” he says, cradling my head between his hands, his elbows depressing the mattress either side of me. “You insult me by constantly questioning yourself. I’m here because I want to be. It’s as simple as that. And when I give you a compliment, I mean it. They’re almost as rare as my apologies.” He shifts his weight so that he’s lying on his side next to me, the palm of his hand lightly skating across my stomach, inching lower and lower. “I want all this fiery passion for myself. For the next two hours, at least.”
I moan softly as his fingers reach their destination and slide inside me with ease. At the same time, his thumb starts toying with me, stroking my clit from side to side and then in ever-demanding circles.
“I want to lose myself in here again.” He scissors his fingers and I respond with another moan, flexing my hips, craving more. My body can’t get enough of his touch. He opens my mouth with his own to kiss me again, his tongue mimicking the action of his fingers. He takes his time, and soon my desire is a never-ending surge of ecstasy as we chase down my orgasm together.
“Second time’s a charm, Charlie,” he murmurs. “I want you milking my fingers like you milked my dick, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be walking straight for a week.”
His words are too much. I wrench my mouth away, crying out his name as I spiral out of control. When I open my eyes again, he’s gazing down at me with that oh-so-familiar smirk on his lips.
“My turn.”
Rearing up on elbows, he powers into me with one hard thrust.
“Shit!”
