The pool. The patio. Who in the hell knew where it went—I wasn’t about to stand around letting it bother me.
I’d think about it tomorrow morning.
Looking at my breasts, he was motionless and speechless for several seconds before he eventually shook his head from side to side. An unfamiliar feeling—self-consciousness—hit me hard, and I started to cover myself, but he caught my hands in his. “You have an incredible body.”
“Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself there, Mr. Manning.”
Fingering the faded remnants of a scar on my chest, he stared down at me questioningly. “What happened here?”
“Coffee burn. My father left a cup of coffee on the sunroom table when I was four and I knocked it all over myself.” When his brows pulled together, I shook my head fiercely and stood on the tips of my toes, wanting him to kiss me. To take away all the memories tonight.
Hooking his hands beneath my legs, he brought us both crashing down on the bed. My head spun from the rocking motion, but before I could gather my bearings, he parted my legs. “This—this is why I came back from New York.”
He shoved my lacy thong aside. Without warning, he thrust two fingers into my sex, and I writhed beneath him.
Swallowing a scream of pleasure, I frantically whispered, “You came back from New York just to get into my panties?”
Laying his head between my breasts, he made a sound of disagreement. “I came back from New York because I couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” To demonstrate, he tugged my nipple between his teeth. Sucking greedily until I moaned and curved against his mouth, he pulled away, leaving my breast wet and heavy. “Those thoughts—those kind of reactions—they’re terrifying,” he murmured, kissing beneath my breasts.
“How so?” I blurted, tightening around his fingers as he pushed them deeper into me, causing a visible shudder to run through him.
“Power, beautiful.” Without giving me a chance to ask him to elaborate, he covered my lips with his thumb. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
But he shook his head. “Close your eyes,” he ordered.
Throwing my head back on the pillow, I squeezed my lids together. Keeping the hand between my legs pumping steadily, he moved, and I felt the bed swinging back and forth, the motion oddly soothing.
I expected his tongue touching my pussy. He’d promised it, after all, and it was obvious that was his intention when he draped my legs over his broad shoulders and tilted my hips up. But what I hadn’t anticipated was the tingles that would burst across the sensitive skin when his other hand stroked my center just before his mouth.
Champagne.
He had drenched me in champagne and was now in the process of tasting it right off my body.
Wow. WOW.
Fluttering my lashes apart, I dug my fingers into his tousled hair, tugging his head back until our gazes met.
“Champagne,” I managed through my teeth. “Really, Oliver?”
Laughing, he dipped his fingers in his glass of champagne again and painted my swollen clit with his wet hand, his blue eyes devouring mine as he drank away the delicious little bubbles.
“You want to come already?” he asked incredulously, between sharp flicks of his tongue.
“What do you think?” I managed to gasp, half delirious from his teasing. God, I’d craved for this for so long. It was worth the wait.
So, so worth it.
“Do you want to come right now?” He opened my legs further apart, fucking me thoroughly with his long fingers. “Or do you want to wait for me?”
“I want both,” I panted, yanking harder on his hair. “I want both.”
For what seemed like a torturous eternity, he continued, sucking and stroking me until the orgasm finally hit me hard. It zipped through me, burning my senses, drowning out everything.
When the tremors stunning my body ceased, he pulled me up so I was on my knees and cradled my face with one hand. He didn’t seem to notice the swaying bed as he stared down into my eyes, or my hands shoving his boxers down and reaching ravenously for his cock.
Before I could stop myself, I blurted out my thoughts. “God, that’s big.” And I would know. Throwing his head back to laugh, I took the opportunity to kiss my way from his throat to his chin, his day-old beard scratching my flesh.
Dragging his fingers through my blond locks, he forced my brown eyes to his. “I don’t want there to be a thing between your pussy and me.”
“I’m smart,” I jerked his erection from head to shaft, stroking until a few beads of liquid glistened the tip. I sucked the pad of my finger to lick it clean, and his hold on my hair tightened at the sight of me tasting him. “And I’m safe. You’ve got nothing to worry about with me.”
It was one of the few honest things I’d told him, and he nodded. “Good, me too.” Repositioning our bodies so that he was lying beneath me, he stared at me like I was a goddess. “You’re beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful.”
“What are you doing?” I whispered when his hands stroked my arms, spreading out over my palms. “Oliver?”
Securing my fingers around the ropes on either side of the bed, he grinned at me wickedly just before he raised my hips and stroked the thick head of his erection over my wet flesh. “I’m giving you both. My way.”
Chapter 15
Lowering my hips, I moaned as his erection gradually filled me.
“Fuck, this was worth the wait,” Oliver groaned in contentment, echoing my precise thoughts from earlier, jerking his body up to meet mine until he was totally inside me. I intensified my grip on the ropes the bed hung from, letting my head fall back as I adjusted to his size. And it was impressive—satisfyingly and completely impressive. “When was the last time—”
“Shh.” I grinded against him. “It’s just you and me tonight, remember?” I demanded, turning his very own words against him.
The last thing I wanted to tell him was it had been months since another man had touched me—that I hadn’t touched another man since the call that brought me to him. I couldn’t tell him any of that when he was inside me, his cock throbbing.
Hell, I couldn’t tell him that at all.
“Just use me.”
Palming my breasts, he tweaked my sensitive nipples as I moved against him like a woman possessed. The bed creaked and swung beneath the motion of our bodies, but I didn’t mind the dizzying wave anymore. Now it was erotic, a part of the sensual ebb and flow that was our slick bodies.
Surrounding my throat with one hand, he murmured, “Do you like that?”
I moaned in ecstasy at the slight pressure, lolling my head from side to side. With his other hand, he pressed his index finger to my parted lips. “Suck,” he ordered, and I drew the single digit into my mouth, the lingering taste of champagne and my sex coating my tongue.
As soon as that delicious part of his flesh was wet, he reached it between our hips and swirled my swollen clit. “Ohhhhh!”
“That’s it,” he urged, pounding faster into me. I crashed against him, meeting each pump with my own, my breasts bouncing, the sound meshing with that of his balls slapping against my ass. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Can’t get enough?” My question caused the vise grip he had on my throat to tighten just a little, which I took as an invitation to clench my sex around him. He closed his eyes and let out a groan that was almost as shattering as our colliding bodies.
“God, no!”
A moment later, when the first bursts of pleasure threatened to overcome me, his palms spanned my arms again, jerking my fingers roughly from the ropes. When he repositioned us, this time I was on my back with my knees to my chest and my legs over his shoulders. His lips hovered over mine.
“I’ve got to see you when you come,” he rasped into my skin. “I won’t be able to let you leave without watching you come.”