Wilde Thing

Chapter 7

“You called again." Liz's voice was breathless. Excited.

And infused with a believable degree of coyness that added to her sexy act and effortlessly fired Steve's blood. "I wasn't sure you would."

Grinning lazily, Steve settled back against the pillows he'd shoved up against the headboard of his bed. Tonight there was no idle chitchat between them, no mention of anything work-related. Just a straightforward intro into phone sex, all for the benefit of the transcripts Antonio would read.

Playing along with the charade on his end was no hardship. He'd been contemplating their provocative conversation for the past two hours: what they'd talk about and where it would all lead. And just like last night, he was prepared to mix business with the kind of adventurous fun inherent in a titillating verbal exchange with Liz. All for the sake of establishing his interest in Sindee, which, hopefully, would in turn get them invited to one of the fantasy parties as a couple.

"I can't stay away," he murmured, low and deep, his groin already stirring in anticipation of the playful, naughty banter that would ensue between them. "I'm addicted to you, and there's no one else I want." All unerringly true statements that worked exceptionally well into their verbal performance. To anyone listening, he was definitely staking a personal claim on her. One that felt all too real and went beyond the benefit of persuading her boss that he was a client worthy of an invitation to the salacious side of The Ultimate Fantasy.

"Mmm, I like the sound of that-and you," she purred huskily, the sensual sound as intimate as a physical stroke across his abdomen and thighs. "I was sitting here, thinking about what we did last night and getting very hot and bothered."

Vivid and arousing images jumped into his mind, and he swallowed a groan. "Are you using your fan?"

"Of course I am. It's the only thing that's keeping me from burning up," she teased flirtatiously. "I was secretly hoping you'd call again, because I can't get you out of my mind, either. Not after last night. I can't stop thinking about the way your hands felt caressing my body, the wet warmth of your mouth on my breasts, and that wicked tongue of yours that brought me such incredible pleasure. Do you remember what you did to me last night?"

She could have been referring to the sexual act they'd performed during their phone call, but he instinctively knew she was talking about the hot, wild tryst that had followed at her apartment afterward. While he enjoyed how assertive she was with him now, how explicit and frank, he wasn't about to let her control all of tonight's seduction.

"I remember everything." Their encounter last night, and her uninhibited response to him, were indelibly etched in his mind. "The way you taste, how soft your skin is, and how feminine you smell-all over. You were so hot and wet for me that your cream drenched my fingers the moment I touched you. I especially remember the needy sounds you made in the back of your throat when I finally pushed deep inside you, and how tight and lush your body felt clenching around my cock."

A ragged breath rushed out of her, the only sign that he might have shocked her just a little bit. But if he had startled her with his unabashed recollection of their time together, she recovered quickly.

"You were very good last night," she said, a sultry smile in her voice. "I've never been so thoroughly satisfied before."

The stroke to his male ego felt exceptionally good. But masculine pride aside, it was easy to believe her statement, because he'd felt her climaxes and those internal muscles contracting around his fingers, then cushioning his shaft in silky, binding heat as she milked him to his own release. And afterward, he'd witnessed the replete look of a woman completely satiated.

"I aim to please," he drawled in reply, and only with her would he be so blatantly arrogant, so sure of himself.

"You do," she assured him. "Tell me, what would you like tonight?"

"Are you on the menu?" he asked boldly. At the moment, he was feeling incredibly hungry, ravenous-for her.

"I'm always on the menu," she said, her laughter soft and oh, so bewitching. "Why don't you tell me a fantasy of yours, and we'll go from there?"

He glanced across the room and caught his reflection in the sliding mirrored closet doors opposite his bed. He'd never invited a woman into his bedroom, had never really given those decorative mirrors a whole lot of thought. Until now. With Liz. He found himself fantasizing, contemplating that length of mirror that spanned half his bedroom, and being able to watch his and Liz's naked images, her expression and his own as he moved over her, within her, their bodies entwined in the throes of heated passion.

Definitely a scenario he'd enjoy pursing with her.

He considered her question, and while he had no problem coming up with a dozen lusty male fantasies, he found himself very undecided. "I'm a guy, sweetheart. I have many fantasies." And lately they'd all featured her in the starring role.

"Pick a favorite, any one that excites you the most," she cajoled seductively. "And then we'll see what we can do about making it a reality for you."

God, she was good at this phone sex stuff, he admitted be-grudgingly. The hard-on tenting his boxers was ample proof of her ability to entice and arouse his mind and libido with her velvet-lined voice and engaging words. Then again, she'd given him a very unforgettable demonstration of her ability to stimulate his senses that afternoon at the cafe, when he'd dared her to lick the caramel off his finger and she'd sucked on him in a very shameless, mind-blowing way.

Awareness licked through him, and a sinful grin lifted the corners of his mouth. He knew exactly what fantasy he wanted to share with her.

"How about you, covered in warm caramel sauce?" he suggested wickedly, playing on the risqué game he'd instigated at the cafe. "Everywhere."

"You're a very bad boy," she murmured, the knowing tone of her voice insinuating that she realized exactly what had inspired his fantasy.

"Someone once told me that they found caramel to be an aphrodisiac-when drizzled on the right dessert, of course," he said meaningfully. "I think I have to agree, and I want you to be my dessert."

"I'll be anything you want me to be."

He heard the tempting promise in her voice and felt the vibrations of the hot chemistry between them curl through his belly.

"Tell me what you want to do with the caramel," she prompted, obviously willing to indulge his private, whimsical request.

He stretched out into a more comfortable position on the bed and gave himself over to the fun, frivolous fantasy, so unlike anything he'd ever indulged in before with a woman- over the phone or in real life. "I want to pour it all over your body, starting at the hollow of your throat and continuing over your breasts and down your long legs. I want to watch the way the thick, golden syrup spills across your smooth skin, pools on your stomach, dribbles over your mound, and trickles between your thighs. And then I'd crown your nipples with the warmed caramel until they turn into taut peaks… Are yours hard and stiff yet?"

"Yes," she exhaled into his ear, a soft, anxious sigh that quickened his pulse.

"I'm going to make them even harder when I lick the sticky sweet caramel from your breasts, suck your nipples into my mouth, and use my tongue and teeth to clean you up." His voice was pure gravel, and his own body heat rose a few notches. "I want more; do you?"

A breathy moan of acquiescence escaped her. "Yes, more."

The same sexual frustration that threaded her voice also strained against the front of his boxers, and he pressed his hand against the insistent, thick ache throbbing along the length of his erection. "I'm smearing the caramel over your belly with my hands. I'm coating your thighs with it and pushing them apart so I can rub the slick substance across the lips of your sex with my sticky fingers and let it mingle with your own sweet essence."

"Yes." The one word was hushed, almost a whisper, but the ragged need in her tone was undeniable.

Closing his eyes, he visualized what she'd look like with all those tempting curves and tender crevices glistening with caramel and her own desire. Absolutely, positively delectable. His mouth watered, and his heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest.

"Now I get to feast on you," he rasped, and licked his lips in anticipation. "I'm nibbling on your breasts, and when I'm done with them I'm going to take a soft bite from your belly and dip my tongue into your navel." The images in his head were too much, and the sound that rolled up from his throat was a growl of pure male hunger. Raw and untamed. "You taste so damn good, and I can't get enough. I just want to eat you up."

Her breathing deepened, fast and shallow, as if she were on the verge of an orgasm. The thought had him stroking his cock, from the base of his shaft all the way up to the engorged tip, and wishing it were her hands on him instead. He imagined her skin flushed warm and pink, her expression reflecting erotic pleasure, and her soft green eyes feverish with the desperate need to release the tension he'd built within her.

"I want you to come," he said in a deep, rough timbre.

She paused, then, "No, not here."

She sounded slightly panicked, and he refused to push her for something she wasn't comfortable giving him. He understood and respected her hesitation, considering where she was. And as much as he wanted to hear the sensual catch of her voice and long, low moans as she brought herself to a climax, he'd much rather witness all that, and more, in person.

"Later?" The simple question held a wealth of underlying meaning he had no doubt she'd pick up on.

"Yes. It'll be worth waiting for."

He grinned at her huskily spoken promise and knew their night together had only just begun. "Then don't keep me waiting long." Another subtle but unmistakable message: he'd be at her apartment when she got home.

Liz disconnected the call with Steve-her last one of the night, thank goodness. Her skin was damp with perspiration, her heart beat erratically, and she felt hot and light-headed- not from the stifling air in the room, but from being so aroused.

She squeezed her thighs together and desperately tried to ignore how excruciatingly sensitive her breasts were, how pebble-hard her nipples felt, and the way the aching tips tingled as they rasped against the cotton lining of her bra.

Yes, she'd been so very close to coming and could have easily given Steve what he'd asked for, but something had stopped her from following through on his provocative request. After experiencing the real thing with him, the wild heat and excitement of his mouth, hands, and body pleasuring her, she didn't want to resort to a cold, impersonal orgasm in this small room when she knew how much more satisfying it would be to let go so completely when they were together.

She pulled in a deep breath, doing her best to calm her hormones and gather her composure before she exited the room. The man was so compelling, his magnetism so potent, even over the phone. He had an unerring way of mesmerizing her and pushing all her most sensually charged buttons. He was an expert at drawing her into his fantasies and making her an integral part of them, and what a doozy tonight's fantasy had been. Caramel, of all things, she thought with a grin, and had to give him points for being so inventive. Her sex life had never been so much fun, so playful and thrilling.

Taking off her headset, she stood and gathered up her personal things. She had no doubt that Steve would be at her apartment waiting for her. He'd insinuated as much at the end of their conversation, and she couldn't wait to see him.

She wanted him badly. Shamelessly. He'd turned her inside out with wanting earlier at the cafe, then had added to her restlessness with their seductive verbal exchange. And now her entire body vibrated with need and excitement, because she knew they were going to make love.

No, have sex, she amended, frowning at herself for making such a stupid mistake. Love wasn't something that was a part of their relationship, and she'd do well to keep her emotions out of the equation.

But they'd definitely agreed on enjoying erotic pleasures and each other, and that was something she'd decided to take advantage of with a virile, physical man like Steve. And with that in mind, she wanted to make Steve as acutely aroused as he'd made her with that irresistible fantasy of his. After the way she'd surrendered to him so thoroughly last night, she wanted to be the one in control of tonight's tryst; she was intent on driving him out of his mind with lust and satisfaction.

She knew exactly what she was going to do to extract her bit of sensual revenge, but first she had to make a quick stop at The Daily Grind on her way home, to pick up a few props.

As soon as Steve had Liz inside her apartment, he took charge with a hot, openmouthed kiss that she ended much too quickly despite the currents of awareness and sexual need sizzling between them. He had one hand under her T-shirt, palming her breast, another cupping her ass through the capri pants molding to her curves, and she deftly eluded both of his advances.

Gasping for breath, she placed a hand on his chest to hold him at bay, her eyes sparkling bright with laughter and desire. "Hold your horses, Mr. Wilde. I have something special in mind for you tonight, and at the rate you're going, I'm not going to be able to spoil you with the delicious, scrumptious treat I brought home for you."

"Spoil me, huh?" He grinned, unable to remember the last time anyone had gone out of their way to indulge him with something thoughtful. "I can't imagine anything more scrumptious than you, but you definitely have me intrigued."

"Oh, I think you'll find this surprise very mouthwateringly good," she teased, her expression a little on the sly side. From her fingertips, she dangled a white-handled paper sack with her cafe's logo, The Daily Grind, imprinted on the side. "And it's right here, in this bag."

So, it was from her cafe, which meant it was most likely something from her bakery shelves. "You brought me cookies," he said, and reached for the bag, certain he'd guessed correctly.

She danced out of his reach and shook her head. "Nope."

"A cream cheese pastry? You know how much I love your pastries." He lowered his gaze to her perfectly rounded breasts beneath the snug cotton T-shirt she wore, and waggled his brows lasciviously.

She laughed, the sound light and fun and infectious. "You're a very naughty boy tonight, you know that?"

Since he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, except to Liz's bedroom, he took off his leather jacket and tossed it onto a nearby barstool and added his weapon and holster. "Would you have me any other way?"

"Absolutely not." She licked her lips, leaving them wet and shiny. "I want you bad. And I want to be bad, too."

"Sweetheart, you can be as bad as you want to be with me." Judging by her frisky, flirtatious behavior, he knew their encounter tonight wasn't going to be as intense as it had been last night, and he welcomed the playful change of pace.

Hands casually on his hips, he eyed the surprise she was still tempting him with, unable to contain his growing curiosity. "I really want to know what's in that bag you're holding."

"Hmm. I think I'm going to make you wait and wonder what's in here." She sashayed away and set it on the counter that separated the small living room from the kitchen area. Then she turned to face him again, too much space separating them for Steve's liking. "Before you find out what your surprise is, I have to ask, do you trust me to do whatever I want to you tonight?"

Her question was asked seriously, and for whatever reason, he realized his permission meant a lot to her. He spread his hands in front of him in a show of assent. "Baby, I'm all yours."

"I want to be the one in control." There was the tiniest defiant tilt to her chin, and her assertive and daring demeanor turned Steve on in a major way. "Is that going to be a problem for you?"

It was killing him, wondering what the hell was inside that bag and what wicked ideas she had in mind for him that she needed to secure his agreement to be the one in charge. While he enjoyed being the dominant one when it came to sex, he had no qualms letting her be the aggressor. He found her confidence extremely sexy, and what man in his right mind would balk at being at this woman's mercy?

Certainly not he.

Unable to resist her allure, he gave himself over to her safekeeping. "Consider me your obedient servant tonight."

A soft, secretive smile curved her lips. "Then come with me."

"Oh, I plan to," he promised.

She lifted a chastising brow at the sexual connotation lacing his reply and held out her hand for him to take, making her meaning very clear. She wanted him to follow her.

He stepped toward her, placed his palm against hers, and was amazed by the surge of warmth and tenderness that engulfed him when she entwined their fingers.

He let her lead the way to her bedroom, and he glanced back at the white bag they were leaving behind. "Aren't we forgetting something?"

"Be patient." She tugged him along. "We'll get to your surprise soon enough."

Once they were inside her room, she released their hands and said, "Take your shoes and socks off for me."

He watched in avid interest as Liz went to the old oak dresser against the opposite wall while he unlaced his boots, toed them off, then removed his socks. She rummaged through the drawers and, seconds later, turned toward him, running a pair of sheer black pantyhose through her fingers-and damned if the thought of what she might do with those stockings didn't send a rush of insidious heat settling in his groin.

He didn't bother asking what the long length of black nylon was for, because he highly doubted she'd tell him, and he was certain he'd find out very soon anyway.

Tossing the intimate apparel onto the lavender comforter on the mattress, she came to him again, her posture determined and an air of sensuality surrounding her. Without preamble, she tugged his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, and he helped her work the material up and over his head and off. Holding his gaze, and with her teeth tugging on her lower lip, she flattened her hand in the center of his chest and skimmed her cool palm downward, her fingers dragging over his ribs and taut abdomen. She didn't stop there, and he gave a raw moan of pleasure as her fingers curled along the thick length of his erection confined behind denim.

His body jerked in response when she stroked him, and it was all he could do not to rip her clothes off and take her right there, on the floor.

"Where are the extra condoms from last night?" he rasped, trying to remember the important things before she totally blew his mind-and other body parts exploded, as well.

"You don't need…" She cut herself off abruptly and shook her head. "Never mind. I put them in the nightstand drawer."

She glanced away but not before he glimpsed what looked suspiciously like hesitancy in her gaze, which contradicted the unabashed woman she'd been thus far. With a finger beneath her chin, he turned her face back to his. "What were you going to say?" His tone was firm-demanding, even.

She sighed. "That you don't need them. I'm still on the Pill." She shrugged, the gesture self-conscious. "It keeps me regular, and I just thought…"

He put his fingers over her soft, damp lips, stopping her before she could say more. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't have sex without a condom. Ever. I guarantee I'm safe in every way, and I trust you are, too, but I have a daughter from my first marriage, and I learned the hard way that there is never such a thing as too much protection."

Her eyes widened at the personal information that had slipped out before he could censure his words. But instead of asking the questions he saw glimmering in her gaze, she obviously decided that his previous marriage wasn't a good source of conversation to bring up when they were on the verge of being intimate.

So instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his mouth down to hers to finish the kiss he'd started in the entryway. Except this time he let her dictate everything about the embrace and followed along willingly as the pressure of her mouth parted his lips and her tongue slipped inside to tangle with his. Her fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck, her breasts crushed against his chest, and the carnal mating of their mouths generated enough heat to make them both spontaneously combust.

Needing more direct contact, he slid his hands down her sides and over her hips, but before he could grasp her bottom and lift her into his erection, she pulled her mouth away and grabbed his wrists, halting his attempt to take over the reins of her seduction-something he hadn't even realized he was doing until she'd stopped him.

She pushed him back until the mattress hit the crease of his knees and he had no choice but to sit.

And watch as she stripped for him.

Just out of grabbing distance, she kicked off her sexy heeled sandals, then pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. Next, she reached behind her back to unhook her bra, and as soon as the catch came undone, her breasts spilled free, lush and voluptuous, the tight points of her nipples jutting toward him as if begging for his touch.

Resisting the urge, he curled his hands into fists on his jean-clad thighs. He got the distinct impression she was testing his control, and he refused to let his restraint snap when she'd made it clear this was her show tonight.

She unzipped her capri pants and shimmied them over her hips, down her thighs, and off her long, slender legs, leaving her wearing nothing more than a pair of bikini panties and a come-hither smile that nearly unraveled his resolve. He waited for her to remove that last scrap of fabric so he could look his rill of her, but she had something else in mind.

"Lie back on the bed," she told him, and made another quick trip to the dresser to clip up her hair while he positioned himself in the center of the mattress.

She returned to the foot of the bed, and he stared at the fascinating sway of her breasts as she crawled up and over his prone form. His lips parted as he anticipated the taste of those nipples in his mouth, until she straightened and straddled his torso. The moist heat of her sex scorched him, even through the cotton barrier separating their bare flesh. This time, impulse won over, and he trailed the tips of his fingers up the inside of her thighs, until she gave him a stern look he decided to heed.

An impish grin made an appearance. "You can't straddle my stomach like this and not expect me to touch."

"No?" She picked up the stockings and brushed the silky nylon over his chest and across his nipples. "Put your hands above your head and grab on to the brass rungs of my headboard."

Oh, boy. He exhaled hard, did as he was told, and endured the torment of her leaning over him, her breasts inches away from his face but just out of reach of his mouth, as she wrapped the nylon around his wrists and secured him to one of the rungs with a very impressive knot.

He remembered restraining her for his pleasure last night, and he wasn't sure he liked being on the receiving end of bondage when he was a man who enjoyed touching and participating on every physical level. "Do you really need to tie me up?"

"You already proved that you can't keep your hands to yourself." She scooted down the length of him until her knees bracketed his thighs, and went to work unbuckling his belt, unfastening the snap of his jeans, and carefully lowering the zipper over his burgeoning shaft.

Grasping the waistband of his jeans and briefs, she pulled both downward, and he lifted his hips to accommodate her. When the last of his clothes were off, she added them to the pile on the floor and returned her attention to his stiff erection, which reminded him of a rocket ready for takeoff. At least, that's how he was feeling at the moment.

Seemingly fascinated with that part of his male anatomy, she brushed the pads of her fingers over the sensitive, plum-shaped head of his penis, and it twitched in response.

"Awww, isn't he cute," she murmured.

Incredulous laughter rumbled up from Steve's chest. "Cute?" Certainly there were better, more masculine adjectives to describe the most fundamental part of his manhood.

"Yeah, cute," she decided with a playful nod of her head. She kissed two of her fingers and transferred that affectionate gesture to the swollen tip of his cock. "Don't worry, big guy, you'll get your share of attention tonight."

He groaned, unable to believe she was talking to his penis. And when she moved off him and started back out the door, he couldn't believe that she was going to leave him alone, all trussed up to her bed-in the buff. "Hey, where are you going?"

"I'll be right back with your surprise," she said over her shoulder.

Her pert, panty-clad backside disappeared out the door, leaving him in a surreal state of bemusement and curiosity. When she returned minutes later, she was carrying a plastic squeeze bottle filled with a golden-hued substance.

He eyed the unidentifiable stuff as she set the container on the nightstand. "What is that?" he asked tentatively.

She shimmied out of her panties. Without an ounce of modesty, she straddled his middle again, and his voracious and admiring gaze took in all her naked glory-from her high, full breasts, along her waist and hips, to her spread thighs and the view of the thatch of dark-blond hair covering her sex.

"You wanted caramel, and you're gonna get it." She reached for the squeeze bottle and squiggled a line of sticky syrup from his breastbone to each of his nipples. "Lots of it. Rich and sweet and seductive."

The caramel was warm and silky against his skin, and the heady exhilaration of what she was about to do to him made him burn from the inside out. "Hey, I thought this was my fantasy, remember?" He'd been the one to bring up caramel earlier on the phone. "You should be the one who's tied to the bed, not me."

"Too late for that, don't you think?" She raised her eyes to his, a suggestive smile on her lips as she finger-painted the slick-textured caramel over his chest, across his rigid nipples, and down the line of his abdomen. "Besides, this is still your fantasy, but with a bit of a twist that lets me be the one in control. I'm going to eat you up."

The fragrant scent of buttery caramel filled his senses, and he groaned, certain he'd died and gone to heaven. She scooted a bit lower to continue a drizzling path of syrup down to his navel, and his erection slid along the crease of her buttocks. For a brief moment he wished his hands were free, so he could lift her hips and pull her down the last few inches and thrust inside her, and make her ride him hard and fast.

But he couldn't do anything but surrender to her slow, arousing ministrations, and that heightened his excitement, too.

Once she was finished painting him with the decadent treat, she leaned forward, ran her lips over a taut pectoral muscle, then took a soft, ravenous bite from his flesh. She groaned at the sweet taste filling her mouth, and a hot, wild tremor rippled through him in response.

Her sensual gaze lifted to his, and the smile that etched her expression was a combination of exhilaration and pure bliss, as if she were under the influence of a very potent aphrodisiac. As he watched, her pink tongue dipped down, swirling once again through the sweet mess she'd made on his chest, and lower. She found his rigid nipple and nipped at the sensitive disk, and that stab of erotic sensation spiraled all the way down to his groin.

She continued to lap at him and unhurriedly kissed her way down his torso to his belly, and kept nibbling her way lower with soft, delicious bites and the scrape of her teeth along his caramel-coated skin, eating him up like he was one big seductive dessert for her to feast on and enjoy. He was so lost in the fantasy she'd created that when she finally sat up again, he realized she was sitting astride his thighs like a pagan, her hungry gaze taking in his jutting, aching sex.

Licking her lips, she reached for the bottle of caramel and poured a generous amount in her hand, then rubbed her palms together, the enthusiastic light in her eyes making her intentions oh, so clear. She took him in her hands, her grasp slick and slippery as she measured the length of his cock in long, heated strokes that had him gritting his teeth in a painful kind of pleasure. Her thumbs grazed the lubricated head of his penis with every pass, drawing a fierce climax closer to the surface.

"Liz," he said, his voice a deep, husky growl.

She ignored the warning in his tone; she obviously wasn't done tormenting him. Lowering her head, she curled her tongue over the broad head of his sex, then licked and nibbled her way up and down his shaft, giving his cock the attention she'd promised earlier. Slowly, leisurely, she lapped off the caramel, savoring the taste of him with small, appreciative sighs and moans that made him writhe beneath her. Just when he was certain he was on the verge of going insane, she finally parted her lips and enveloped him in the wet heat of her mouth.

His nostrils flared, and savage lust reared within him as she took him deep, working his thick, solid member with her lips and tongue and the slick fingers wrapped tight around the base. She brought him to the brink of an orgasm, then eased back to let the wave of sexual tension ebb before starting in on him again.

His entire body shuddered with a fierce, roaring urgency, stunning in its intensity. He couldn't ever remember being the lucky recipient of such intense, all-consuming need. He'd had his share of blow jobs before, certainly, but no woman had ever enjoyed the act as much as Liz. She took her time, delighting in the act, luxuriating in his scent, his texture and responsiveness. She skillfully drew out his moment of fulfillment, as if his pleasure was directly linked to her own.

Her tongue swirled one last enthusiastic time; then she sucked, at first gently, then harder, stronger, devouring him all the way to the back of her throat in long, rhythmic strokes of her mouth. He exhaled a hiss of breath, and his arms flexed in an instinctive reaction to reach down and thread his fingers through her hair. The abrupt movement only served to tighten the stockings around his wrists and reminded him that she was the one calling all the shots.

He was under her complete power and command.

His stomach muscles clenched, and he dug his heels into the mattress, panting to keep his climax at bay. He wasn't going to last much longer. "If you don't quit now, I'm gonna come," he managed hoarsely.

She didn't stop, and he couldn't either. The last thin thread of his control shattered. His hips surged upward as she drew him to completion with her hands and mouth, sending him soaring on the wings of an awesome, shuddering orgasm that left him weak and wasted.

He finally came back down to earth to the wonderful feel of Liz making her way back up to his chest with more languorous licks and insatiable nibbles and kisses. Her knees straddled his ribs again, and her bottom rested lightly on his stomach. Her breathing was ragged, and she looked down at him with eyes dark with passion and a hunger as raw as the one she'd just satisfied in him.

"Untie me so I can touch you," he said, wanting to give her what she needed, too.

She shook her head, a few wisps of hair that had escaped her clip brushing against her flushed face. She looked thoroughly aroused and incredibly sexy. "I'm not finished with your fantasy yet."

He couldn't imagine it getting any better, but he wasn't about to argue, not when he was certain that watching her would restore his stamina for a second round.

Picking up the plastic bottle of caramel, she drizzled a ribbon of the golden syrup over the tops of her breasts, and he stared, mesmerized, as the liquid trickled down to her quivering nipples, then beaded into tiny droplets that he ached to catch with his tongue. Holding his gaze with her own, she cupped her breasts in her hands and massaged them with the smooth, glistening caramel. She circled her nipples with her slick fingers, plucked at them, and gasped and shivered as the tips puckered tight.

Steve's blood sizzled in his veins, and he increased the stakes of their fantasy the only way he could-verbally. "Lift your breast to your mouth and lick off the caramel," he said huskily, and when a rare bout of uncertainty made her hesitate, he pushed the issue. "Do it."

This time, she fulfilled his request with more confidence. Sliding her hands beneath her full breasts, she raised her nipples to her parted lips and tentatively flicked her tongue across one of the crests, then the other. Her eyelids half closed, and she licked at the caramel again, her tongue gliding slowly, sensuously across her sweetened skin and lapping at the engorged tips.

"Suck them," he ordered gruffly, his cock stirring back to life as she played out a very erotic male fantasy: watching a woman pleasure herself.

She caught a nipple between her lips, grazed it lightly with her teeth, and suckled the swollen peak into the depths of her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she grew bold and wanton, her lips and tongue and fingers playing across her breasts until that stimulant no longer seemed like enough, and a whimper rolled up from her throat.

His mouth watered, and he cursed his inability to use his arms to pull her down to him. "I want to taste, too."

Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she leaned down, arching her back so that her nipples brushed across his lips. He caught one in his mouth and suckled the delicious caramel from her skin and laved her with his tongue. She moaned fretfully, squeezed her thighs against his sides, and abruptly sat up again, seemingly caught up in her own sensual gratification.

Her head fell back, and her hands moved over her body of their own accord, skimming down her torso, smearing the caramel sauce over her belly and along her inner thighs. Her sticky fingers traced the pouty lips of her sex, then slid through her damp curls and into her wet heat.

With a soft moan, she stroked herself, and Steve gave a low growl of frustration because he wanted to be the one pleasuring her. The rumbling sound made her glance back down at him again, and a soft, sinful smile curved her lips as she removed her hand from between her thighs and touched her damp fingers to his mouth. Eagerly he parted his lips and accepted her offering, licking the flavor of caramel and her essence off her fingers and using his tongue and teeth to arouse them both all over again.

He continued to suck her fingers, and she moved on him restlessly, her taut, creamy breasts rising and falling as she breathed rapidly. Her hips gyrated and rocked against his torso in an attempt to increase the pressure and friction against the neediest part of her.

He wanted her so badly, to taste and be the one to make her come. And with his arms still secured above his head, there was only one way to get what he desired and to give her body the release it was clamoring for.

He released her fingers from his lips for more carnal pleasures. "Come up here, baby, and ride my mouth," he rasped.

Her hot, dazed eyes registered his erotic request-a little bit shocked and a whole lot turned on. His mind spun as she eased her body upward, spread her legs wide, and knelt astride his head, giving him uninhibited access to her lush sex. She wrapped her hands around the brass bedposts to steady herself, and he slid his wrists up, entwined their fingers, and bound her hands to his so she couldn't escape or move very far.

For the moment, she was his, and he reveled in the capture and her submission as he had his wicked way with her.

She shivered as he nuzzled and kissed the inside of her thigh, whimpered when his breath gusted over her wet, delicate flesh, moaned when he finally tasted her with a slow, deliberate lick, and cried out as he swirled his tongue around her clit and gave her body what it ultimately craved.

Her fingers tightened around his, holding on while he took her greedily with his mouth and drank in the scent and taste of caramel and feminine desire. Both were incredibly sweet. His tongue was hot and aggressive, ruthless and demanding, unfurling deep and stroking and suckling with insatiable, rapacious hunger. Another thrust of his tongue, and a lusty moan ripped from her as the force of her orgasm shoved her over the edge and she climaxed in wild, exquisite abandon.

He didn't let her go right away. He lapped at her more slowly now, dragging out her pleasure, forcing her to endure, to ride out her release until the last small spasms jerked through her spent body and she was left gasping for breath. He released her hands, and she slid back down to his side, their skin sticking together from the drying caramel.

She reached up and unknotted the nylon from his wrists, setting him free, then looked down into his eyes, a contented smile on her lips. "That was incredible."

He brought his arms back down, and the cramped muscles along his shoulders relaxed. "Ummm, mind-blowing," he agreed, though after that outstanding performance of hers, he was hard and raring to go again.

She dropped a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, her gaze dancing with gentle laughter. "Amazing," she countered playfully.

He grinned at her delightful, engaging mood and searched for a word to top hers. "Fun."

She skimmed her fingers down his chest and came away with a dollop of caramel, which she promptly sucked off in a very provocative way. "Tasty, and very messy."

"That was the best part." He loved her blissful enthusiasm and that she wasn't afraid to be daring and messy when it came to sex and exploring fantasies. Adored the way she enjoyed her body so much and reveled in his as well.

She lifted her splayed hand from his belly and winced at the gooey syrup adhering to both of them like glue. "Fun and all that aside, I think we both need a shower."

He chuckled. "You don't have to ask me twice," he said, and grabbed a condom from the nightstand on their way to the bathroom.

He wasn't done with her yet. They might have just eaten dessert, but the main course still awaited.