Dash of Peril. Lori Foster

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Dash of Peril - Lori Foster


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“Leave them there.”

      She closed her eyes, but only briefly. Lieutenant Margo Peterson was not a coward, ever.

      Picking up the soap, Dash lathered his hands. “Since you insisted on the bath, I want to make sure you enjoy it...for a really long time.” Her nipples were still tight, and got tighter still when he put his soapy fingers to her and teased.

      She squirmed and Dash, knowing it wasn’t her problem, asked, “You didn’t want to get clean?”

      Turning her head to the side, she made a hungry little sound of need, the muscles in her sleek thighs clenching, her feet flexing.

      “Easy now.” He paused, his slick fingers still on her breasts, but now only holding her. “Are you going to be able to stay still?”

      Aroused color slashed her cheekbones. Her eyes were dazed. The bath water lapped at her breasts. “Yes.”

      “Is that a promise?”

      Her gaze pleaded with him, and she whispered, “Please don’t stop.”

      He smiled...and rinsed her breasts. She was sensitive here, and he almost thought he could get her off with just this.

      But that’d be asking too much of him. He needed to touch her. All of her.

      Everywhere.

      “It won’t be easy, I know.” Leaving one hand to toy with her nipples, he lowered the other into the water, between her legs. “But you’re not going to move, not until I tell you that you can.”

      “All right.”

      Dragging out the suspense, he slipped his fingers along her inner thighs, teased behind her knees, tickled over her hip bones and belly.

      “Dash,” she whispered desperately.

      “Shhh. No talking, either.” It took all his concentration to hang on, to remember that this was for her, only her.

      She drew in a shuddering breath.

      “All you need to do is rest there and let me have my fun.” Knowing she couldn’t, he said, “Now loosen up for me,” at the same time that he cupped his hand over her again—this time with her legs sprawled wide.

      A vibrating moan escaped her.

      “You just can’t keep quiet, can you?” He pressed two fingers into her, easily since she was already slippery wet and ready. With his other hand he toyed with her nipples.

      She made another throaty sound of excitement, and Dash told her calmly, “You may as well get comfortable, because I’m not in any rush here.” He eased his fingers back out of her. “We have all night.”

      She lifted her hips, his hand now loosely covering her, seeking the more intimate stroke.

      “Shh. Rest back in the tub or I’ll have to stop. I won’t chance you getting hurt.”

      “I won’t,” she all but wailed, writhing against his hand.

      “Your arm is okay?”

      “Yes!”

      He smiled. “Does your head hurt at all?”

      “Damn you...”

      “Cursing me?” He pretended to pull away.

      “I’m sorry.”

      “Better.” He held one nipple and despite how she squirmed, kept his fingertips just barely inside her. “You sounded sincere enough.”

      Two deep breaths...and she said, “I am.”

      “Then behave.” He pressed his fingers deep again, slowly working her, using the heel of his hand to add friction to her clitoris.

      Her teeth locked. She was already so close, and he’d barely done half of what he wanted to do.

      “Keep your knees open.”

      Eyes closed tight, she nodded.

      He watched her splinted left arm, making sure she didn’t forget about it.

      And suddenly she gasped, almost lost in a fast orgasm.

      Surprised by her swift response, Dash eased up, saying softly, “No, not yet.”

      Ripe excitement left her entire body taut, rosy.

      Dash touched her everywhere, her swollen sex, her breasts and her mouth and her plump little ass. “You are so sexy, Margo.”

      “I...I need to come.”

      “And you will,” he promised. He saw the carnal desperation on her face...and he loved it. “After I’ve gotten my fill of enjoying your body.”

      One thing was certain: she did not feel any pain. He could tell by the way she moaned and moved and how easily she kept trying to spiral out of control.

      Dash abandoned her breasts for the moment to concentrate between her legs. “I think you’ll like this.”

      She caught her breath and waited.

      “Two fingers in you, nice and deep.” He watched the movement of his hand, his fingers sliding in and out of her tender body. “I have large hands, but still, it’s not quite the same as when we’ll have sex.” His cock hurt, he wanted her so much. But he wouldn’t veer off track.

      She strained to remain still.

      “And with my other hand, I can...” He touched her clitoris, and she gasped, her hips lifting. “Maybe we should put that off until later.”

      “Do it now.” Her voice was high, thin.

      “I don’t want you to come yet.”

      “Dash...” Frustration made her frantic. “I don’t know if I can wait any longer.”

      He said with certainty, “You can.”

      She moaned raggedly.

      Maybe he should save that much teasing for her second orgasm. She was already drawn so tight that it worried him. He didn’t want to add to her aches and pains. He wanted to alleviate them.

      “I’ll prove it to you....” She was about to protest when he touched her again, saying, “Later.”

      It took him less than thirty seconds to push her over the edge, and hearing her cries, seeing the open, honest pleasure on her face, he damn near followed her.

      As her orgasm faded, she slumped and he quickly pulled the drain on the tub to let the water out. “Relax, honey.”

      She gave a faint but honest laugh. “Now I can, definitely.”

      “I’m glad.” Pleased with her, Dash shook open the towel. “Time to dry off.”

      “Forget it.” She motioned him away with her right hand. “Just leave me here for a little while.”

      He grinned at her tranquil posture. “You know I can’t do that. Come on now, you’ll be more comfortable once you’re dried and dressed.”

      “And fed.”

      “Exactly.” He caught her under the arms. “Careful now.” He helped her out, then said, “If you can stay on your feet, I can take care of everything.”

      “Yes, sir.” She giggled.

      Pausing with the towel to her belly, Dash stared at her. A giggle? From Lieutenant Margaret Peterson. “You are dopey as hell.”

      “I’m boneless.”

      “Boneless, huh?” He kissed her, and wanted to go on kissing her. But that would test his control too much. “I like that ‘sir’ business.”

      “You earned it.” She sobered as he bent to dry her legs. “But, Dash, you do realize—”

      “That it’s only


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