Tangled Love

Chapter Sixteen

Morgan felt Jack walk past her. Behind her, the door opened. A draft of February air breezed a chill across her skin. Then footsteps.

She tamped down her panic. He wasn't going anywhere. He couldn't be. The raw tenderness in his eyes and the unrelenting grip of his hands on her convinced Morgan of that. So what the hell was he up to?

He cupped his hand around her shoulder and settled against her, whispering in her ear, "The safe word is still swamp."

Even blindfolded, his tension couldn't have been clearer if he drew her a picture. "Okay, but I won't need it."

Jack exhaled. Warm breath on her cheek, then the soft skate of his fingertips down the slope of her breast, followed by the hard pull of his mouth on her nipple.

Instantly, a path of fire zinged between her breasts and her clit. Moisture rushed between her folds. The pleasure was so bright, Morgan even felt a curious warmth at her back. She couldn't squeeze her legs together for relief, since Jack had tied them so far apart. With her wrists attached to her thighs, she couldn't raise her arms to clasp him closer when he shifted to the other breast, making the second nipple as hard as the first. A moan slipped free from her throat.

Caressing a hand down her belly, Jack rewarded her with a soft touch. His fingers made teasing circles across her thighs. His knuckles swept over the fringe of her pubic hair.

His hand shook.

Morgan held her breath, waiting, wondering... What was going on?

Slowly, he knelt between her feet. His hot breath hit her right— Oh, yes!—there as he parted her slick flesh with his thumbs and exposed her every secret, stripping her bare of uncertainty and inhibitions, ripping out any concept of wrong or taboo, and replacing it with need. Morgan simply felt his eyes devouring her most secret flesh, hungry, singleminded.

Blood rushed through her body. A rush of tingles scraping across her skin made her feel so totally alive. Cool air against her breasts contrasted with a blast of heat at her back...and the rasp of Jack's hot tongue dragging across her clit.

Her head fell back on a gasp.

"That's it," he murmured. He laved her again. "Cream for me."

He followed the gentle nibble with a firm swipe of his thumb right there, where she needed it. Once, twice, punctuated by his seeking tongue again. And again. Then his mouth covered her, his tongue lashing her clit, toying, stroking, inflaming.

The rise of pleasure was sharp, beyond fighting—even if she'd wanted to. But resisting was the last thing on her mind. Thick desire stormed her...along with a bittersweet curl of emotion. How was she going to do without Jack after he'd finished with her?

Shoving the thought aside, Morgan focused on the here and now. Desire. She dug her fingernails into her thighs. In the face of her spiraling need, a brief sting was the only sensation she could spare. Everything else was focused on Jack and his mouth. And when he worked a pair of fingers into her, she gasped, hanging on the edge by a thread.

"You can't come yet, Morgan."

She whimpered. "Please..."

"Tell me again, do you want everything I can give you?" "Yes! Yes, sir. Now."

A hesitation, brief, bare. Then Jack sucked her clit into his mouth. An ache bit into her belly with unmerciful ruthlessness and pushed her closer to the abyss of pleasure. She whimpered as the hot swell of need rushed up on her, pushing her close, so close to the edges of her restraint. Every muscle in her body tensed under the lash of Jack's lazy, insistent tongue.