Fiona couldn’t believe she’d just given him consent to ravage her body. Then again, she’d been anticipating this since he’d run out on their dinner earlier that evening. Hadn’t she been wishing he’d show up? The cool shower forgotten, her body heated like a raging inferno centered around her aching, throbbing core.
Like a conquering warrior, he claimed her lips, his mouth bearing down, his tongue thrusting against hers.
She surrendered gladly, meeting his tongue with her own caresses. She slid her hands along his arms and down his body to cup his ass. Tight denim encased hard muscles, bunching and flexing with each move. Wanting him to lie on the bed beside her, she grasped his buttocks, urging him to climb in.
He resisted, shaking his head as he released her lips. “Not yet. I might be rusty at this, but I like my women to be as excited as I am.”
Women. Fiona would have snorted and started to, but Wyatt shifted, his lips sliding down her neck to capture one of her nipples between his teeth. He rolled the hardened bead, dampening the fabric of her gown.
Her back arching as if of its own accord, Fiona fought to breathe.
Then with an impatient movement, Wyatt straightened, gripped the hem of her gown, yanked it up over her head and tossed it over his shoulder.
She sat up and reached for the button of his jeans.
His hand descended over hers. “Not yet,” he repeated.
“But I like to make love to my men naked.”
His eyes flared, his lips tightening for a moment. “In time. You let him loose and I won’t have any control left.”
She laughed softly. “And that’s a problem?” She yanked the top button free.
Again he stopped her, stepping away from her reach.
Fiona pressed her lips together, frustration lending to her impatience. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.” She cocked her head to the side, her brows rising in challenge.
He met her challenge by slipping a finger beneath the elastic of her panties.
Thankful she’d worn her best black lace thong, she watched as he slid the scrap of fabric over her hips and down her legs excruciatingly slowly.
By the time he yanked them free, she was all but panting. Her pussy creamed when he stepped between her knees. Still sitting up, she ran her hands over his chest and downward over his ripped belly. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
His lips hovering over the pulse beating at the base of her neck, he breathed warm air across her skin. “I’ll make it worth your time.”
“I’m counting on it.” She ran her hands over her breasts, plumping them for his pleasure and then let her fingers slide down to the tuft of hair covering her sex. Parting her folds, she fingered her clit, slipping lower to coat a digit in the liquid seeping from her channel. He just wasn’t moving fast enough for her. She needed him inside her. Sooner rather than later.
When he dropped to his knees, her heart seized and she stroked her clit faster. In all the relationships she’d been in, and there hadn’t been many, never once had a man gone down on her. She shivered, her knees widening to accommodate his broad shoulders brushing against the insides of her thighs.
He reached out, lifting her breasts in the palms of his hands, rolling the nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. “You have beautiful breasts.”
Fiona had always considered them nothing more than adequate. But the hunger in Wyatt’s gaze made her want to believe him. She cupped the backs of his hands and squeezed his fingers around them.
After a moment, he dragged his hands away from beneath hers and caressed her sides, leaning in to capture a turgid peak between his lips.
Fiona drew in a deep breath, her chest pushing out to meet his lips and offer more.
He sucked her nipple into his mouth, pulling hard.
Her insides tightened and she threaded her hands through his hair, cupping the back of his skull to bring him nearer.
Ah, yes. She liked the way he sucked hard, the slight pain stimulating everything else in her body to a heightened sense of awareness. It only made her want more.
He abandoned her breasts and eased his way down her torso to the tiny triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs. Glad she’d had a bikini wax the day before, she waited, holding her breath for what came next.
Wyatt glanced up. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
“Fuck no, you won’t,” she wailed. “Please, don’t stop now.” Fiona threaded her fingers through his hair and urged him on his path downward.
Streamers of electric shocks rippled through her as his fingers parted her folds, laying open her clit for the next stage in his calculated attack.
He flicked the slim bit of flesh with the tip of his tongue.
Fiona’s fingers dug into his scalp, a moan rising from her chest, escaping through parted lips, air lodging in her throat.
He chuckled, his breath cooling the dampened skin. Before she could catch her breath, he stroked her again with that magical tongue.
Her head fell back, her hands trembling.
Two strokes and she was ready to beg him to take her, fuck her, slam into her hard and fast.
Instead, he pulled her clit into his mouth and nibbled gently, swirling his tongue around it until every one of the tightly packed nerves were screaming with delight.
When he dipped a finger into her channel, she almost launched off the bed. Two fingers were even better. Three fingers, plus the continuous flicking, sucking and tapping at her clit sent her flying over the edge. “Now,” she begged. “Please come inside me now.”
He lurched to his feet, scooted her up on the bed and dug into the back pocket of his discarded jeans for his wallet, from which he extracted a foil packet.
Desperate to have him inside her, Fiona sat up and reached for the condom.
Naked, standing in front of her, his cock jutted out, thick, hard and so big it made Fiona’s mouth water. Tearing the foil packet open with her teeth, she held off removing it from the pouch, tempted to taste him as he’d tasted her.
She slipped off the bed to kneel at his feet and wrapped her hands around his length. Velvet-encased steel. He thrust into her palms.
Flicking her tongue across the tip, she reveled in the warm, softness. Now that she was there, she wanted to make him as crazy as he’d made her. She laid the condom packet on the pillow beside her, slipped her fingers down to the base of his cock and cupped his balls in her palms.
His quickly indrawn breath and stiffened body told her she was on the right track.
Emboldened, she leaned forward and traced the rim with the tip of her tongue, sliding across the top to dip into the tiny hole.
His dick pulsing, Wyatt dug his fingers in her hair and urged her to take him.
Fiona opened her mouth, wrapping her lips around the bulbous tip.
He flexed his hips, thrusting into her.
She didn’t object, adjusting to take his full length until it bumped into the back of her throat, liking the way it made her feel. Though at his feet, she felt the power of what she was doing to him and settled into a smooth rhythm, sucking him in and easing back off. Pressure of his hand in her hair let her know when to speed up, until he grew so stiff, he jerked out of her mouth, scooped her into his arms and tossed her onto the bed.
Like a marauding soldier, he climbed up between her legs, took the condom from the pillow beside her and rolled it down over his damp cock. Then he flipped her onto her belly, raising her hips until her ass poked into the air.
Too excited to protest, she noted another first. She’d never made love doggy-style. Now she wondered why. It was so deliciously primal, animalistic and hotter than hell. Exposed and loving it, she curled her hands into the sheets as Wyatt thrust into her, burying himself all the way to the hilt.