"Take my vein," she growled at him. "Take it--now. "
As she ricocheted off into another orgasm, he came to her throat in a lunge, his bite slicing into her neck as his own release jerked into her.
Once he started to come, he couldn't stop and she didn't want him to. He kept moving and drinking and shuddering into her, the rolling multiples that racked him saturating her sex as he fed and took her hard.
But it was what she wanted.
When he finally stilled, he didn't so much stop as collapse on her. Running her hands up his shoulders, she held him as he drew lazy laps over his puncture marks.
Sometimes you had to sandblast in order to clean something properly. Delicate little circles with a sponge or a cloth just couldn't get the dirt and grime out well enough. And what they'd just done was a sandblast and a half--and, given the way he was still hard, she knew that there was more to come.
Literally.
John lifted his head and looked down at her. His eyes were worried and he was careful as he brushed at her hair.
She smiled. "Nah, I'm fine. I'm more than fine. "
A sly grin bloomed on his handsome face as he mouthed, Ain't that the truth.
"Hold up there, big man. You think you can make me blush like I'm some girl? Pulling that sweet talk?" As he nodded, she rolled her eyes. "I'll have you know I'm not the kind of female who goes all dizzy, popping a stiletto off the floor just because some guy kisses her deep. "
John was all male as he cocked a brow. And damn it if she didn't feel a tingle in her cheeks.
"Listen, John Matthew. " She took his chin in her hand. "You're not turning me into one of those females who goes gaga over her lover. Not happening. I'm not hardwired for that. "
Her voice was stern and she meant every word--except the instant he rolled his hips and that huge arousal pushed into her, she purred.
Purred.
The sound was utterly foreign and she'd have sucked it back down her throat if she could have. Instead, she just let out another of those decidedly non-tough-guy moans.
John bowed his head to her breast and started suckling on her as he somehow managed to keep thrusting in slow, even penetrations.
Swept away, her hands found his hair again, spearing through the thick softness. "Oh, John. . . "
And then he stopped dead, lifted his lips from her nipple, and smiled so wide it was a wonder he didn't bust off his front teeth.
His expression was one of total and complete gotcha.
"You are a bastard," she said on a laugh.
He nodded. And pressed into her with his full length again.
It was perfect that he was giving her shit and showing her a little of who was boss. Just perfect. Somehow, it made her respect him even more-- but then, she'd always loved strength in all its forms. Even the teasing kind.
"I'm not surrendering, you know. "
He pursed his lips and shook his head, all oh, no, of course not.
And then he started to pull out of her. As she growled low in her throat, she sank her nails into his ass. "Where do you think you're going?"
John laughed silently, stretched her thighs wide, and went down the length of her until he was back where he'd started on her. . . with his mouth all over her sex.
His name echoed loud in the room, bouncing around the tiled walls as he gave her more of exactly what she wanted and needed.
Studiously ignoring the sounds of sex was a skill Blay was getting waaaaaay too much practice at.
As he came out of the weight room, he heard the echo of John's name through the closed door of the rehab suite. Given the pitch and the tenor, it was clear a whole lot of conversating wasn't the cause.