Crossfire Book 1 - Page 93

Still he primed me, running his skilled fingers through my cleft, spreading the moisture over my cl*t and the lips of my s.e.x. He pushed two fingers into me, scissoring them, preparing me for the thrust of his long, thick c.o.c.k.

"Do you want me, Gideon?" I asked hoa.r.s.ely, needing to ride his thrusting fingers, but hampered by how far I had to reach to grab the strap.

"More than my next breath." His lips moved over my throat and the top of my shoulder, the warm velvet of his tongue sliding seductively across my skin. "I can't go long without you either, Eva. You're an addiction...my obsession..."

His teeth bit gently into my flesh, conveying his animal need with a rough sound of desire. All the while he f**ked me with his fingers, his other hand ma.s.saging my c.l.i.t, making me come again and again from the simultaneous stimulation.

"Gideon!" I gasped, when my damp fingers began to slip from the leather.

His hands left me and I heard the erotic rasp of his zipper lowering. "Let go and lie on your back with your legs spread."

I moved to the seat and stretched along it, offering my body to him in quivering antic.i.p.ation. His gaze met mine, his face briefly lit by a pa.s.sing swathe of headlights.

"Don't be afraid." He came over me, setting his weight onto me with excruciating care.

"I'm too h.o.r.n.y to be scared." I caught him and pulled my body up to press against the hardness of his. "I want you."

His c**k head nudged against the lips of my s.e.x. With a flex of his hips, he pushed into me, his breath hissing just as mine did at the searing connection. I went lax against the seat, my fingers barely clinging to his lean waist.

"I love you," I whispered, watching his face as he began to move. Every inch of my skin burned as if from the sun, and my chest was so tight with longing and emotion that it was hard to breathe. "And I need you, Gideon."

"You have me," he whispered, his c**k sliding in and out. "I couldn't be more yours."

I quivered and tensed, my h*ps meeting his relentlessly measured drives. I cl**axed with a breathless cry, shuddering as the ecstasy rippled through my s.e.x, milking him until he grunted and started powering into me.

"Eva."

I rocked into his ferocious lunges, urging him on. He clutched at me, riding me hard and fast. My head thrashed and I moaned shamelessly, loving the feel of him, that decadent sensation of being possessed and ruthlessly pleasured.

We were wild for each other, f**king like feral beasts, and I was so turned on by our primal l.u.s.t I thought I'd die from the o.r.g.a.s.m building inside me.

"You're so good at this, Gideon. So good..."

He gripped my b.u.t.tock and yanked me up to meet his next thrust, hitting the end of me, forcing a gasp of pleasure/pain from my throat. I came again, clenching down hard on him.

"Ah, G.o.d. Eva." With a serrated groan, he erupted violently, flooding me with his heat. Pinning my hips, he ground against me, emptying himself as deep in me as he could get.

When he finished, he sucked in a harsh breath and gathered my hair in his hands, kissing the side of my damp throat. "I wish you knew what you do to me. I wish I could tell you."

I held him tightly. "I can't help it that I'm stupid over you. It's just too much, Gideon. It's - "

" - uncontrollable." He started over again, thrusting rhythmically. Leisurely. As if we had all the time in the world. Thickening and lengthening with each push and pull.

"And you need control." I lost my breath on a particularly masterful stroke.

"I need you, Eva." His gaze was fierce on my face as he moved inside me. "I need you."

Gideon didn't leave my side, or allow me to leave his, the rest of the evening. He kept his right hand linked with my left all the way through dinner, once again choosing to eat one-handed rather than release his hold on me.

Corinne - who'd taken a seat on the other side of him at our table - gave him a curious look. "I seem to remember you being right-handed."

"I still am," he said, lifting our joined hands from under the table and kissing my fingertips. I felt foolish and insecure when he did that - and conscious of Corinne's scrutiny.

Unfortunately, the romantic gesture didn't keep him from talking to Corinne throughout the meal, not me - which left me feeling fidgety and unhappy. I saw more of the back of Gideon's head than his face.

"At least it's not chicken."

I turned my head toward the man sitting beside me. I'd been so focused on trying to eavesdrop on Gideon's conversation that I hadn't paid any mind to our tablemates.

"I like chicken," I said. And I had liked the tilapia served for dinner - I'd cleaned my plate.

"Not rubberized, certainly." He grinned and suddenly looked much younger than his pure white hair would suggest. "Ah, there's a smile," he murmured. "And it's a beautiful one."

"Thank you." I introduced myself.

"Dr. Terrence Lucas," he said. "But I prefer Terry."

"Dr. Terry. It's lovely to meet you."

He smiled again. "Just Terry, Eva."

Over the course of the few minutes we'd spoken, I'd come to believe Dr. Lucas wasn't a whole lot older than me, just prematurely gray. Aside from that, his face was handsome and unlined, his green eyes intelligent and kind. I revised my guesstimate of his age to be mid-to-late thirties.

"You look as bored as I feel," he said. "These events raise a considerable amount of money for the shelter, but they can be dull. Would you like to accompany me to the bar? I'll buy you a drink."

Beneath the table, I tested Gideon's grip by flexing my hand. His tightened.