Dark Nights. Lisa Childs

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Dark Nights - Lisa Childs


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free hand, above the satin, closing over hers beneath, driving her fingers deeper inside her, grinding her palm against her clit until she came. Tears streaked from the corners of her eyes, falling onto the rumpled sheets.

      “Ben…”

      He lifted his mouth from her breast, then pulled her hand from her panties. He drew each wet finger into his mouth, lapping and licking. Then he reached down again and jerked at the satin until the panties tore free of her hips.

      Before she could reach for him, he rolled off the bed and knelt at the side of the mattress. Then he pulled her to the edge, so that her legs dangled off the high bed, just above the floor.

      “My turn,” he said, his voice hoarse. He licked his way from her knees, up the inside of her thighs, watching her as she propped herself on her elbows.

      “Ben…”

      “Touch yourself again,” he ordered her. “Touch your breasts, imagine my mouth on them, wet and hungry….”

      “You’re awfully bossy for an intruder,” she teased.

      “I may be dangerous,” he said. “So you better do what I say….”

      He was definitely dangerous—to her heart. But she couldn’t resist him. She settled back onto the mattress and reached for her nipples, rolling them between her fingertips. Then his mouth moved between her legs, his tongue dipping into her heat. He pushed her legs farther apart as he devoured her. Hungrily.

      Her fingers trembled as she continued to play with her breasts. Pleasure arched her back, raising her from the mattress, as he pulled her tight against his mouth, his tongue delving deep, then pulling out to lap at her clit.

      She wept as he teased her, pleading with him for more. But he took his time, savoring her with every lick, every soft bite of his hungry mouth. Finally he drove deep, with his tongue, while his hands skimmed up her body and covered hers on her breasts.

      She convulsed, as a powerful orgasm shuddered through her. “Ben…” she sobbed.

      But he pulled back, replacing his tongue with his throbbing cock, pushing the thick, long length of his erection into her wetness. Her muscles squeezed him, trying to hold him, as he withdrew, then slammed back into her.

      Again and again.

      She arched off the bed, meeting his every thrust. More orgasms tore through her until he stiffened, then cried out. Heat filled her as he came. Then he pulled free, collapsing onto the bed next to her.

      She rolled to her side, overwhelmed. But he remained facedown on the mattress, his body jerking with each harsh breath he dragged into his lungs.

      “Ben…”

      He turned toward her. “You’re going to kill me, you know. Brilliant cardiologist suffers heart attack while making love….”

      “I don’t know about that,” she mused.

      His body tensed for a moment, as if he thought she didn’t consider what they did making love. Only sex.

      So she lifted a brow and teased, “You consider yourself brilliant? Really?”

      He reared up and leaned over her, nipping at her sensitive nipple with his teeth, as he pushed his thumb inside her, strumming her clit as he might a guitar. Except that Ben wasn’t musical. Just brilliant at making her come.

      She tensed, then broke apart, coming again. She bit his shoulder, hard, in protest at how easily he controlled her body. His teeth closed over her nipple, nipping.

      She rose up, coming again. “Oh, Ben!”

      “You can’t deny my brilliance now,” he teased her.

      She knew he was kidding because Ben had never had an ego, just a hard work ethic. And a hard dick, which pulsed at her hip. She closed her hand around him, holding his hot, pulsing flesh. He groaned again but pulled her hand away.

      “We have to discuss something.”

      She hated how this was straying into a serious conversation she’d rather avoid. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress.

      “I’m worried about you, Paige,” he said, “about this crazy stalker.” His hands closed over her shoulders, turning her to face him. “I think I should move in here.”

      Her heart knocked against her ribs. “What?”

      “Or you can move in with me,” he offered, his dark eyes earnest.

      “Ben!”

      He sighed. “It would only have to be until the stalker is caught, Paige. You’re not safe here alone.”

      “I’m not alone,” she pointed out. “Sebastian lives here, too.”

      “Casanova?” he scoffed. “How much time does he really spend here?”

      “Not much,” she admitted. “But I’m fine alone. You don’t need to worry about me.”

      “But I do.” His throat moved as he swallowed hard. “Even before you picked up a stalker, I worried about you.”

      “Ben, I take care of myself,” she reminded him, resenting that she had to. “I always have.”

      “I know.” His brown eyes grew soft and wistful. “But I wish…”

      “What?”

      “I wish I had taken care of you when we were married,” he admitted.

      She laughed at his thought of chivalry. “I didn’t let you.” If only she’d taken his advice…

      “But I should have tried,” he insisted, his fingers clenching her shoulders. “I should have been there for you more.”

      She shook her head, suddenly weary from more than making love. “That’s all in the past, Ben, and it doesn’t matter. We’re not married anymore.”

      His eyes darkened with emotion. “What are we, Paige?”

      She tried to pull out of his arms, but he held her tight, his fingers biting into her skin. “I don’t know, Ben.”

      She didn’t have an answer for him or herself.

      “We’re not married,” he agreed. “We’re not really dating. We don’t go out to dinner or a movie.”

      “Who does that?” she asked. “We never went out to dinner or a movie.” They’d always been too tired from working such long, hard hours. Or he hadn’t been around. He’d been around for so little of their marriage.

      “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe we should have….”

      She smiled, amused that he would think they could have. Neither of them was much made for leisure activities…except making love. “We were never those people, Ben, not when we first started going out or when we were married.”

      “What people?”

      “You know the ones, the couple who hold hands while they walk around the mall, the ones who stare into each other’s eyes over a candlelit dinner.”

      His eyes softened with regret, as if he wished they had been. “Paige…”

      They both carried too much regret. None of it could change what had happened between them, what had gone wrong.

      “It’s okay,” she assured him. “We never had time to be those people. I was busy, too.” Not as busy as he’d been, but she’d submerged herself in her work, too.

      At first, because she’d been determined to be exactly the opposite of her mother. But then she’d fallen for Ben. And she’d still worked too much, so that she wouldn’t notice how little he’d been there.

      “We should have made time,” Ben said.

      “It’s


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