Read Only for a Night (Lick) for Free Online Page A

Harper.
    Tearing his gaze from the scene, Rion dropped it to her face, needing to witness the pleasure that vibrated against his chest.
    Fuck. The muted lighting couldn’t hide the wide eyes darkened by surprise and pleasure or her parted lips. Couldn’t conceal the flush painting her high, sculpted cheekbones or slashing across the skin her scooped, modest neckline revealed. Lust looked gorgeous on her. She was meant to wear it.
    Harper leaned against him as if her legs could no longer bear her weight. A peek back at the glass showed the man working the woman over with long, hungry strokes, teasing laps, and greedy sucks. Slowly, Rion spread his fingers wide over Harper’s belly. God, she was so fucking tiny. Each hand spanned her stomach, throwing in sharp relief how much he dwarfed her. An image of them in bed taunted him. He would cover her completely, dominate her. Would her petite body be able to take the rough, dirty sex he liked? Could she, so delicate and small, take all of his dick inside her undoubtedly tight and equally small pussy? Sweat dampened his palms and the base of his spine at the thought. He’d only caressed the damp folds, and inching himself inside her would be torture and pleasure. Both guaranteed to kill him.
    But, sweet fuck, what a way to go.
    Slowly, he slid his hands up her torso and cupped her breasts. She jerked hard in his hold, releasing a startled cry.
    “Shh,” he soothed, nuzzling her ear. He placed a soft kiss behind her ear, and she twitched again. Noting that spot, he whispered, “Easy, baby.”
    This time, he didn’t regret the endearment. Not here, in the dark, with sex riding the air like a perfume. Like he’d assured her, everything was allowed. No regrets. No shame. What he couldn’t utter if they’d met on the street or even downstairs, he could here. Squeezing her flesh, he hummed, pleasure a hot, tight knot in his gut. Even with the dress in the way, she filled his hands. Not overflowing like the woman writhing on the bed, but natural, enough. Perfect.
    He stared down over her shoulder, stared at his hands cradling her tits, shaping them, molding them. Part of him couldn’t believe he was finally— finally —touching Harper. That same part held its breath, waiting for him to wake up from another wet dream, his dick in his hand. But no. She was real. Harper, his Harper—because for the next few hours before he let her go, she belonged to him—stood in front of him, her ass wedged against his cock, her fingers locked around his wrists, her nipples at rigid attention under his thumbs.
    Her head dropped on his shoulder, but her eyes remained on the couple where the man tongue-fucked his woman. She’d curled her hands behind her knees, trapping her thighs to her chest, granting her lover unhindered access to her pussy. Yeah, it was hot. But not as arousing as the slick of Harper’s tongue over her lips. Or the tiny sounds she emitted as Rion pinched her nipples.
    Shaking her hands loose, he skimmed his down her arms and drew them over her head and behind his neck. He squeezed her fingers, ensuring she understood not to move, then gathered the heavy silk of her hair and flipped the dark strands over her shoulder. The tab of her dress called to him, and he answered, tugging the zipper down. The material parted, exposing inch after inch of smooth, dusky skin. She carried the evidence of her Italian heritage in the olive and porcelain tone. Made a man hungry and thirsty at the same time.
    For a moment, he just stared at the slice of skin, once more reverting to that young man who had been offered the chance to touch, but with blood on his hands, hadn’t been clean or worthy enough to take. The one who had stood there, stoic and raging inside when she’d gutted him by choosing to marry someone with her parents’ stamp of approval.
    But that youth no longer existed. The man who would take her over and over again tonight, satiating the craving that had dogged him for