Soul Deep

Chapter Seven

What was wrong with her? Amanda knew something was horribly wrong, that the heat and hunger that kept her body so sensitized and filled with a painful arousal wasn’t natural.

It happened with that kiss. She remembered the kiss. The stranger, Kiowa, locking his lips to hers and spreading the taste of sweet honey through her senses. That was when it happened. Within seconds, heat had filled her, making it hard to think, to make sense of anything but the pleasure and the need for his touch.

And touch her he had. She moved against him now, remembering his lips on her breasts, his teeth at her nipple, sending sizzling bolts of exquisite pleasure pain tearing through her.

She had known for years that regular, normal sex would never be enough for her. The staid kisses and boring touches she had received over the years had been less than enjoyable. But, when she touched herself, her fingers pinching at her nipples, stroking her clit with a harder touch, there she had found pleasure.

The books she hid and read, sizzling romances that involved just a bit of the more painful love play, would keep her hot and wet for days. But never hot enough for this. To accept the kiss, the touch of a man she didn’t even know.

She shuddered as she remembered his hand slapping her cunt, the vibrations of heat and mild pain streaking into her clit and nearly sending her senses spinning. She wanted more of it. Wanted to feel his hand there again, making her burn, making her twist against him as the pleasure ripped her apart.

God, this was so wrong. She shouldn’t be like this. Had he drugged her? She didn’t remember it if he had. And she didn’t feel drugged exactly; it’s just that all her senses were centered on one thing and one thing only. His touch.

“Easy, baby,” he groaned at her ear as her teeth teased his nipple.

Her hand slipped beneath his shirt as she gasped at the heat of his hard body and felt his straining erection pressing against her through the rough jeans. That’s what she wanted, his cock pressing into her, stilling the heat throbbing in her pussy.

Her hands drifted down, plucking at the snap as his breathing escalated. She just wanted to touch him, wanted to wiggle down until she could take it in her mouth, lick it and suck it as she had read about. She wanted it. God now, she had to have it.

Her hands were tearing at his jeans, desperate whimpers coming from her throat as his hands covered hers, dragging them back to his chest.

“Amanda, listen to me,” he crooned at her ear. “Listen to me very carefully, baby. You have to stop. Lie still and sweet against me just for a little bit longer.”

Like hell. He had kidnapped her. He had taken her from her home for only God knew what reason, and chances were good he would kill her before it was over it. But before he did he was going to still the fever raging in her body or she would kill him first.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her head falling back, staring up at him in dazed wonder.

He was so good-looking. Native American features, black, black eyes, long black hair that spilled over the side of his neck as he watched her with hungry intent. He didn’t look like a man willing to kill. Those weren’t the cold blue eyes that stared at her from behind a mask, and his voice wasn’t filled with hatred.

“Ah sweetheart, that’s what has us in this mess now,” he growled, his hand tightening at her buttock, pulling at the flesh.

The action sent a strange, tightening sensation through her anus. She flushed as she remembered his fingers there, spearing into her, opening her as his mouth ate at her clit, sucking her in and sending her flying. She wanted it again.

“You did this,” she groaned, aching so bad she wondered if she would survive it. “You did this to me. Now fix it.”

A rumbled growl vibrated in his chest.

“Soon.”

“Now.”

A rough chuckle, almost pain-filled, washed over her senses.

“We have company, baby. You want me to make you scream in front of them?”

“I don’t care.” And she didn’t. All of fucking Washington D.C. could be looking on at that moment and she wouldn’t care. “Kiss me.”

She needed his taste again.

She wiggled her hands from beneath his then, one moving to cup the hard erection as he stiffened, a hiss echoing in her ear. The other worked at his jeans again.

Her friend, Beth, had swore that all you had to do was touch their cocks and they were putty in your hands. Was it true?

The snap came undone, the zipper rasped down, and suddenly her hands were filled with steel-hard, iron-hot male cock.

“Damn it to hell,” he cursed roughly, his big body trembling as she wrapped both hands around impossibly thick flesh.

The head was flared, the shaft roughly ridged as blood pulsed just beneath the flesh. Her mouth watered. She wanted to taste him, make him as crazy with her mouth as he made her with his.

“Simon, goddammit, I’m not going to last like this.”

His rough curse was ignored. He wasn’t saying her name, so what the hell did she care? She tried to wiggle down further, whimpering as his hard hands held her in place.

“Five more hours, Kiowa.”

Five hours? The comment had laughter rippling through her mind. If anyone thought she was going to wait five hours and suffer through this agony of arousal, they were crazier than hell.

“Kiss me,” she whispered again, staring up at him in the dim light of the vehicle they were obviously traveling in. “Kiss me or let me touch you. Please.”

His expression was tortured.

“Don’t you do it, Kiowa. Dammit, we don’t have time to stop for this shit.”

She wished that voice would just shut the hell up.

She licked her lips slowly.

“I need you. It hurts, Kiowa.”

His name whispering from her lips was the trigger. She gave herself a mental high five as a rough groan shuddered from him and his head lowered.

There was the taste, the heat she needed. Amanda opened her lips for his tongue, clamping down on it and suckling eagerly as it filled her mouth. She twisted against him, feeling his cock throb harder in her hand as he began to move over her body.

He laid her flat, coming over her as his big hand pushed the bodice of her gown down, his fingers gripping her nipple as he pumped his tongue in her mouth. Her hands lost contact with his erection, but that was okay, she needed his shoulders to hold onto as the pain and the pleasure began to whip through her nervous system.

The heat built higher, hotter. Her nipple, inflamed and begging for more, throbbed between his fingers as he tugged at it, his fingers pressing into it and making lightning sear her clit.

His knee pressed hers apart as his thigh shoved against her pussy, making her gasp as it ground into her clit. Sweet mercy, yes. She wanted to scream with the pleasure, but his mouth covered hers, his tongue filling her, stroking her, making her twist and shudder beneath him as the pleasure tore through her.

“Goddammit, Simon.” He jerked his head back, holding her close again as he fought for air, his grip on her nipple making her whimper.

God, it was so good. She wanted his mouth there, his teeth, the wet heat searing her from the inside out.

An argument ensued. She really didn’t care what it was over. Her lips were busy at his neck, his chest, moving down, her hunger for his cock driving her past sanity. She had always thought she would love giving head. Reading about it had made her mouth water, the thought of being held, hard hands tangled in her hair as they were now, forcing her mouth to fill with steel-hard male flesh, feeling it fuck between her lips as harsh male groans echoed in her ears.

She reach the damp crest, her tongue swiping over it eagerly as he suddenly stilled and the vehicle came to a rocking stop. Car doors slammed, then the blanket was jerked from her as both hands held her head as the thick hot flesh speared between her lips.