“Taking you now,” he said against her lips. And then he easily lifted the bottom of her dress up, gripped her buttocks and hauled her up into his arms. Her legs went around his waist; her head turned to the side trying to reach all of him. He walked them across the room. She didn’t care where he took her. To the chaise lounge, to the wall, to the floor—it didn’t matter, so long as he took her and made her feel the way only he could.
He lowered her to the bed and she sighed in protest as her mouth lefts his. She fell against the soft cushion, but her body arched up to his, needing him to come back down on her. His eyes leveled on hers, glittering with need. Then he stood back and pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of hard muscles packed and ribbed at his stomach, the tan to his skin, the line of hair down his stomach, made her legs scissor together trying to get some relief. He watched her. She felt like a piece of meat under a predator’s eyes—like she was about to get eaten.
Still, she couldn’t keep her eyes from memorizing every inch of him. When they’d made love on the couch, she hadn’t gotten to feel their naked chests pressed together, hadn’t gotten to see all the muscles she’d felt with her hands. Now she did and her mouth watered.
“Take off your dress.” It was an order given softly, but no less commanding.
Breath hitching in her throat, she grabbed the dress at her thighs and started pulling, her hips lifting and arching as she worked the material up. His eyes flared, his chest expanding hard as he watched her. He liked it and hell if she didn’t like that he did. So she exaggerated the movements, slowed them down. The dress fluttered up around her stomach and she arched her back as she bared her naked breasts. The soft material helped to tease her hard nipples even more, making her sigh as the material passed over them.
He wet his bottom lip but kept watching her as he unbuckled his belt and started on his pants. Finally, she lifted the dress overhead and tossed it aside, completely bare save her small plain panties.
“Beautiful,” he said, eye roaming over her.
She felt beautiful. He could make her feel like that. Like all other women couldn’t compare when he looked at her like that. Finally, he unzipped his pants, toed off his shoes, then slid his pants and black socks off in a smooth move. When he stood tall again, she gasped. She wished she hadn’t, that she could control her purely feminine response, but damn if she could. She’d never seen a man like that. A man with legs wired hard with ropes of muscles, with slender hips and wide shoulders.
She tried not to look, she really did, but her eyes fell to the hard shaft thrusting out from his hips. A flood of moisture spilled between her legs and she squirmed in need, needing him, inside her.
Ah, but it was okay, because he came onto the bed, snagged his fingers around her little panties, then tugged them down and off. No slow moving motions for him. His hands said determination. His fingers slid around her ankles then his hands traveled up her legs. Goosebumps broke out all across her body and somehow made her nipples even harder. Everything ached. Nipples, sex, deep inside her. Even her skin seemed to crave him. Only after he slid his hand over her, did the ache ease. His hands stopped past her knees and then his beautiful eyes met hers. They were pure heat and promise. Then he jerked her legs open, pushing her knees back until she was spread open and bare before him.
Her hands flew down to cover herself as a furious blush burned her face.
“No.” He grabbed her hands, then set them over her breasts. He watched her much smaller hands settle over her breasts, then nodded as if it pleased him. “Keep them there.” His voice had turned huskier, growling.
He settled between her legs. Every muscle in her body pulled tight until she strained beneath. What was he doing? Oh, she had an idea and she felt utterly mortified by it. He couldn’t possibly think about putting his mouth on her there. God, she felt like such a prude, but she couldn’t help it. No one had ever done that...especially not Joseph.
And boy did he seem to have no problem touching her down there. His slid over her, cupping her. This his chin dipped down against her inner thigh making her open even more for him. She couldn’t watch. No way. She slammed her eyes closed and clenched her breasts in a hard grip.
He continued to touch her as if he were petting her. His palm would occasionally press hard against her and sparks exploded inside her, behind her eyelids. Her breath would catch. He tugged on the thatch of hair above her sex, then something very soft pressed over her. Light as feather, but not tickling like a one. She peeled her eyes open for a moment to find him pressing his lips across her.
It started to feel good. Inside, something was growing, building really big.
Then something wet and much firmer darted over her. Fast at first, then slowly, lingering. Her back shot off the bed and her hands flew to his head. She panted, couldn’t catch her breath. Her hands had curled hard into his hair, but she didn’t care. That feeling, oh, that feeling!
His eyes opened to look up at her, his mouth releasing her. Slowly, she uncurled her fingers, then jerked them away as if scalded.
He lifted himself up, something incredibly hot and wicked glazing in her eyes. “You’re going to lie back now. I’m going to make you come with my mouth and then I’m going to fuck you. You got that?” His eyes glanced back between her legs and he groaned as if he couldn’t wait to be back there.
“Are you sure?”
He stared at her until she gave in and lay back on the bed. There was no relaxing. Not at all. Not when she knew he was going to lick her again. It’d felt so strange. Soft and wet against her own soft wetness. It’d also felt strangely good and entirely wicked and naughty. He settled back down between her thighs, but when he touched her again, it was different. Harder. Hungrier. As if, he was trying to prove something to her.
His tongue found that spot, that sensitive bundle of erotic nerves and he played with it. He didn’t stop. He didn’t relent. Once her breath caught and she started to get swept away in the pleasure, he’d change the motion until she was squirming, sweating, panting. Her entire body trembled beneath his tongue and lips. He nuzzled that spot, applying pressure then relaxing it, darting quickly, then slowly twirling around and around. Her head was swimming. He’d completely swept her up into a pool of throbbing pleasure. And when his finger passed over her entrance, she cried out and threaded her hand in his hair, this time not to jerk, but to coax and beg. He passed it over her again and again, sometimes dipping just a little into her wetness.
She couldn’t take it. She needed him inside her. Needed that tongue to keep that same spot and move faster. “Oh God, please!”
He pushed in at her cry. One finger, no two, dove inside, thrusting slowly, like he had all the time in the world. His tongue slowed and she growled. Now she had the pressure inside she needed, but not the other.
“You’re a monster,” she cried, her head turning on the bed.
She heard a chuckle from between her thighs. Before she contemplated his death though, he moved his fingers faster, did that twirly, erotic thing around her clitoris and there it was. Her entire body tightened, pulling taut as a bowstring until her back arched off the bed, and then she snapped. Screams escaped her throat, her body bucked under his mouth, muscles jerking, then she flooded his fingers. He licked her through it until she twitched from the sensitive feeling.