Read Online Knock Out (Worth the Fight) by Michele Mannon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michele Mannon
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her nub with moisture. The movements were repeated, quick and urgent.
She was close. He increased the pressure and felt her shudder. Removing his thumb, he worked two fingers inside her wetness, loving how her inner muscles greedily contracted around him. Tighter and tighter, as he withdrew and, just as quickly, slid his thumb back inside.
It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed bringing a woman to climax with his fingers. Moving his tongue along her neck, he once again licked his way behind her ear. A few nibbles, with his thumb smoothly sliding in and out, had her trembling and ready.
But she had one more move to complete, a prelude to another type of completion. “ Dance for me ,” he growled, before swirling his tongue and darting it into her ear. His thumb mimicked the action.
“Now? Later. Oh, please, Keane,” she cried out. She felt so fucking hot around him. He promised himself that his rigid cock would find some warmth as well. Sooner rather than later.
“I want you on your toes,” he demanded.
For a split second, she hesitated. He slowly withdrew his digit until the pad of his thumb rested on her folds. With a thrust, he buried it back inside.
“Dance. Do it.”
“Okay, okay. But please... Oh, my God.”
She rose onto her toes of her left foot. The slight shift upward caused his thumb to slide downward, and downward still. Her back arched against him, her leg flexed tighter, and with a throaty moan, she shattered.
* * *
Logan’s legs turned liquid as Keane lowered her onto her feet and broke contact. She rested her head against the mirror and fought for equilibrium. A drunken headiness washed over her, assisted by the louder-than-Beethoven’s-”Ode to Joy” hum running throughout her body, distorting her ability to think.
Keane leaned into the mirror as well, his hands to the sides of her head. Big hands, with long fingers, she noted beneath her eyelashes. Hands she wanted to feel run over every inch of her body. Another rush of warmth spread to the juncture between her legs. God, it had been so long since she wanted someone with such savage intensity.
She’d never imagined dancing could be sexually satisfying. A deliciously titillating kind of foreplay. A naughty overture to what was coming her way. With Pierre, dancing was always work and only enjoyable in front of an audience. The rare occasions where she’d danced solo for him had been anything but pleasurable—especially when his habit of criticizing her ruined her desire to ever perform for him. The egotistical jerk. Hell, he’d turned her off, never on.
Pierre had assured her other dancers experienced the same hang-ups. Strict diets, strenuous dance rehearsals and the stress of being a prima ballerina were the reasons sex with him was bland, as non-descript as eating a bologna sandwich. What a bunch of bologna.
Come to think of it, since meeting Keane, her libido had shifted from dormant into overdrive.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so incredibly...fulfilled. Unsettlingly so. And to think, this was the appetizer before the main course. All six foot two of muscled fighter.
Opening her eyes, she caught his smirk in the mirror. A quiet invitation. She swallowed hard.
He nodded toward the bed.
“How about...” she began, her voice hoarse with desire. How about I take a beautiful swan dive onto the mattress , you join me and we go at it?
He tilted his head and arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
“...I bring us some water?”
He stared at her for a second. “Okay.”
She stepped away from him, instantly missing the warmth of his body but at the same time needing an intermission to find her breath.
“Logan.”
Hearing her name roll off his tongue made her want to sprint to the kitchen, then back. “Yeah?” She stopped and glanced over her shoulder.
“Once we’re in it,” he gestured toward the bed, “don’t count on leaving anytime soon.”
Her body flushed from head to toe.
She was close. He increased the pressure and felt her shudder. Removing his thumb, he worked two fingers inside her wetness, loving how her inner muscles greedily contracted around him. Tighter and tighter, as he withdrew and, just as quickly, slid his thumb back inside.
It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed bringing a woman to climax with his fingers. Moving his tongue along her neck, he once again licked his way behind her ear. A few nibbles, with his thumb smoothly sliding in and out, had her trembling and ready.
But she had one more move to complete, a prelude to another type of completion. “ Dance for me ,” he growled, before swirling his tongue and darting it into her ear. His thumb mimicked the action.
“Now? Later. Oh, please, Keane,” she cried out. She felt so fucking hot around him. He promised himself that his rigid cock would find some warmth as well. Sooner rather than later.
“I want you on your toes,” he demanded.
For a split second, she hesitated. He slowly withdrew his digit until the pad of his thumb rested on her folds. With a thrust, he buried it back inside.
“Dance. Do it.”
“Okay, okay. But please... Oh, my God.”
She rose onto her toes of her left foot. The slight shift upward caused his thumb to slide downward, and downward still. Her back arched against him, her leg flexed tighter, and with a throaty moan, she shattered.
* * *
Logan’s legs turned liquid as Keane lowered her onto her feet and broke contact. She rested her head against the mirror and fought for equilibrium. A drunken headiness washed over her, assisted by the louder-than-Beethoven’s-”Ode to Joy” hum running throughout her body, distorting her ability to think.
Keane leaned into the mirror as well, his hands to the sides of her head. Big hands, with long fingers, she noted beneath her eyelashes. Hands she wanted to feel run over every inch of her body. Another rush of warmth spread to the juncture between her legs. God, it had been so long since she wanted someone with such savage intensity.
She’d never imagined dancing could be sexually satisfying. A deliciously titillating kind of foreplay. A naughty overture to what was coming her way. With Pierre, dancing was always work and only enjoyable in front of an audience. The rare occasions where she’d danced solo for him had been anything but pleasurable—especially when his habit of criticizing her ruined her desire to ever perform for him. The egotistical jerk. Hell, he’d turned her off, never on.
Pierre had assured her other dancers experienced the same hang-ups. Strict diets, strenuous dance rehearsals and the stress of being a prima ballerina were the reasons sex with him was bland, as non-descript as eating a bologna sandwich. What a bunch of bologna.
Come to think of it, since meeting Keane, her libido had shifted from dormant into overdrive.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so incredibly...fulfilled. Unsettlingly so. And to think, this was the appetizer before the main course. All six foot two of muscled fighter.
Opening her eyes, she caught his smirk in the mirror. A quiet invitation. She swallowed hard.
He nodded toward the bed.
“How about...” she began, her voice hoarse with desire. How about I take a beautiful swan dive onto the mattress , you join me and we go at it?
He tilted his head and arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
“...I bring us some water?”
He stared at her for a second. “Okay.”
She stepped away from him, instantly missing the warmth of his body but at the same time needing an intermission to find her breath.
“Logan.”
Hearing her name roll off his tongue made her want to sprint to the kitchen, then back. “Yeah?” She stopped and glanced over her shoulder.
“Once we’re in it,” he gestured toward the bed, “don’t count on leaving anytime soon.”
Her body flushed from head to toe.
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