Page 35 of Retribution
Dakota whisked the shirt over her head, and Cobra suck in a sharp, audible breath.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
He grabbed both breasts and pushed them together then kissed the tops of them. Dakota gasped and splayed her hands flat against the wall. He raised his head and stared intensely at her as he inhaled deeply and growled as he exhaled.
A passionate cry fell from her throat in a gasping, tearing sound of need. “Cobra, please.”
He gripped her wrists in his hand and pinned her arms above her head.
“Keep them there,” he whispered against her ear.
His warm breath trickled down her neck as his mouth sucked and his teeth nibbled, biting along the hypersensitive line of her flesh. Her lids fluttered closed, and she let everything fall away.
A pause fell between them and Dakota opened her eyes and saw his fiery gaze slide over her like one long stroke of his hands over the length of her body. A sly smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he reached out and took her aching nipples between his fingers, pinching, twisting, and tugging on them. A sweet pain pulled at her clit.
She couldn’t keep track of him. One minute he was biting a line along her collarbone, making her tremble and arch against him; the next, his warm, teasing mouth was locked around and flicking her nipple with short strokes of his tongue. Dakota fought not to cry out too loud while he molded her body with his hands and lips, his tongue and his teeth.
Then she heard the click of metal as Cobra unthreaded his belt out from between the loops. He took a step backward and snapped the belt before letting it fall to the carpet beneath their feet. He crooked his finger in her direction.
“Undo my pants, sweetheart.”
Dakota walked over, drawn to him like a magnet to carbon steel. When his hand landed on her shoulder and pressed down, she didn’t hesitate, knowing exactly what Cobra wanted as she lowered to her knees and undid his button.
“Good girl,” he said in a low, deep voice.
She smiled up at him, enjoying how big and protective he felt hovering over her while she worked at his jeans, all the while knowing with an aching sense of urgency what she would find when he was out of them. Anticipation rang through her temples and her fingers became more insistent, tripping over themselves as his fingers gently threaded through her hair.
Without being told, Dakota reached into his jeans and drew out his thick, hard cock. Cobra hissed and widened his stance. She stroked once, up and down, admiring the soft yet firm feel of him beneath her fingers. Dakota swallowed and lowered her mouth around him with a slow, teasing slide. His fingers tightened on the top of her head as a whispered curse escaped his lips. His hips tensed, and she placed her hands on either side of them to anchor herself in place.
“Fuck, darlin’,” Cobra rasped.
Dakota felt his muscles strain against her fingers as she eased up along his shaft and slid back down, establishing a rhythm that was both deep and slow. As her tongue flicked the ridge under the smooth crown, he shuddered, and a ragged exhale slipped through his lips.
“Keep doing that.”
“You like that, don’t you?” She laved wet strokes up and down as she squeezed the base of his dick.
“Yeah, that feels so fuckin’ good.” Cobra buried his fingers in her hair, digging into her scalp.
When she cupped his balls and stroked them, he bucked forward, thrusting his cock deeper into her throat.
Cobra pulled her hair hard and her eyes watered. “I fuckin’ love seeing your tits sway as you suck me. It’s so damn hot.” Another hard pull, and she thought for sure he’d tear out a handful of her blonde locks.
Dakota’s strokes became quicker, harder, and with a small suck at the end of every pass.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me blow, but I wanna be inside you.” Cobra pushed her backward off his dick, and Dakota made a small whimper.
She leaned back on her knees, her eyes fixed on his hardness while she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Get up, sweetheart,” he said gruffly, holding out his hand to help her up from the floor. “Turn around with your hands on the wall.”
The scrape of his calloused fingers down her back sent a flurry of quivers through her body. When Cobra ran them around the back waistband of her panties, she clenched her thighs together and wiggled.
“Keep your legs wide open,” he ordered, and she quickly complied. “Perfect,” he murmured as he trailed a single digit over the lacy fabric, down the crevice of her ass.
“Oh, Cobra.”
He ran his finger back and forth between her inner thighs, pressing the peach fabric of her panties between her aching, swollen lips.
