to.
“Sorry,” he said, though they both knew he didn’t really mean it. “I guess I should find something better to do with my mouth.”
Without giving her time to respond, he slid down the rest of her body and hiked her legs up over his shoulders. She gave a short gasp of surprise that turned into a long moan of pleasure as he parted her folds and ran two fingers along her damp slit, just grazing her over-sensitized clitoris.
She was amazingly responsive; his every touch had her twisting, wriggling, purring low in her throat and biting her bottom lip with her perfect white teeth. And he hadn’t even gotten started yet.
His fingers played through the crisp, dark curls covering her mound—a bit of a novelty for him; so many of Vegas’s modern lovelies were into waxing these days that he was usually met with “airstrips,” cutesy decorative designs, or nothing but smooth, hairless skin of the so-called Brazilian variety. And that was nice, but the natural look was good, too.
He took his time, blowing gently on the swollen tissue, teasing her opening with the tip of one finger, using his tongue to taste everywhere but where he knew she needed it most. Her hands clutched the sheets on either side of her hips, her heels digging into his back.
“Se-bas-tian,” she panted, dragging his name out to three distinctive syllables.
She was close . . . and so was he. The scent of her arousal, the feel of her pressing against him, shivering beneath him, made him want to bury himself inside her and come as much as she did. But he wanted to do something for her first.
Focusing his efforts, he filled her with two wide fingers, encouraged when her soft inner muscles stretched and then rippled around them. With his tongue, he stroked her silken labia and circled the tiny nub of her clit.
Her hips shot off the bed and then began a steady rocking motion as he drove her higher and higher with his lips, his tongue, and occasionally his teeth. All of them. She made tiny mewling sounds and murmured a litany of incoherent speech that he took to be, Oh, God . . . yes, yes . . . no more . . . I can’t . . . please . . . oh, yes, yes, yes!
She came with a scream that nearly peeled the paint from the walls. Her head shot back, her spine bowed, and she bucked against his face as the orgasm shuddered through her. It seemed to last forever while he gripped her hips with strong hands and continued to lap at her juices, gentling his touch until she settled.
When she was completely wrung out, lying limp and boneless in his arms, he crawled up the length of her body to cradle her close. Her lashes fluttered as she struggled to open her eyes, and he smiled at how well he’d managed to wear her out in just a matter of minutes. Wait until she discovered how much more pleasure he had planned for her. For both of them.
“Wow,” she breathed when she finally managed to open her eyes all the way. They were languid and unfocused, but glimmering with the after effects of sexual fulfillment.
“I take it you enjoyed yourself,” he said with no small amount of smug satisfaction.
She gave an unladylike snort. And then, “Why did you do that?”
He quirked a brow. “You didn’t like?” he asked, waffling between umbrage and disbelief.
She snorted again, this time adding a light slap to his bare shoulder. “Don’t be obtuse. ‘Like’ isn’t a big enough word for how good that was. But why would you bother when you could have just as easily gone straight to the main event and enjoyed yourself just as much?”
“My poor, beautiful, obtuse darling,” he murmured, punctuating the words with a kiss to her temple, her nose, the corner of her rosebud mouth. “It’s called foreplay. And in case you didn’t notice, I enjoyed it quite as much as you did.”
Her hair was a mass of chestnut curls splayed out across his bedspread, and he couldn’t resist running his fingers through the silken strands. “I love your fragrance, and your
“Sorry,” he said, though they both knew he didn’t really mean it. “I guess I should find something better to do with my mouth.”
Without giving her time to respond, he slid down the rest of her body and hiked her legs up over his shoulders. She gave a short gasp of surprise that turned into a long moan of pleasure as he parted her folds and ran two fingers along her damp slit, just grazing her over-sensitized clitoris.
She was amazingly responsive; his every touch had her twisting, wriggling, purring low in her throat and biting her bottom lip with her perfect white teeth. And he hadn’t even gotten started yet.
His fingers played through the crisp, dark curls covering her mound—a bit of a novelty for him; so many of Vegas’s modern lovelies were into waxing these days that he was usually met with “airstrips,” cutesy decorative designs, or nothing but smooth, hairless skin of the so-called Brazilian variety. And that was nice, but the natural look was good, too.
He took his time, blowing gently on the swollen tissue, teasing her opening with the tip of one finger, using his tongue to taste everywhere but where he knew she needed it most. Her hands clutched the sheets on either side of her hips, her heels digging into his back.
“Se-bas-tian,” she panted, dragging his name out to three distinctive syllables.
She was close . . . and so was he. The scent of her arousal, the feel of her pressing against him, shivering beneath him, made him want to bury himself inside her and come as much as she did. But he wanted to do something for her first.
Focusing his efforts, he filled her with two wide fingers, encouraged when her soft inner muscles stretched and then rippled around them. With his tongue, he stroked her silken labia and circled the tiny nub of her clit.
Her hips shot off the bed and then began a steady rocking motion as he drove her higher and higher with his lips, his tongue, and occasionally his teeth. All of them. She made tiny mewling sounds and murmured a litany of incoherent speech that he took to be, Oh, God . . . yes, yes . . . no more . . . I can’t . . . please . . . oh, yes, yes, yes!
She came with a scream that nearly peeled the paint from the walls. Her head shot back, her spine bowed, and she bucked against his face as the orgasm shuddered through her. It seemed to last forever while he gripped her hips with strong hands and continued to lap at her juices, gentling his touch until she settled.
When she was completely wrung out, lying limp and boneless in his arms, he crawled up the length of her body to cradle her close. Her lashes fluttered as she struggled to open her eyes, and he smiled at how well he’d managed to wear her out in just a matter of minutes. Wait until she discovered how much more pleasure he had planned for her. For both of them.
“Wow,” she breathed when she finally managed to open her eyes all the way. They were languid and unfocused, but glimmering with the after effects of sexual fulfillment.
“I take it you enjoyed yourself,” he said with no small amount of smug satisfaction.
She gave an unladylike snort. And then, “Why did you do that?”
He quirked a brow. “You didn’t like?” he asked, waffling between umbrage and disbelief.
She snorted again, this time adding a light slap to his bare shoulder. “Don’t be obtuse. ‘Like’ isn’t a big enough word for how good that was. But why would you bother when you could have just as easily gone straight to the main event and enjoyed yourself just as much?”
“My poor, beautiful, obtuse darling,” he murmured, punctuating the words with a kiss to her temple, her nose, the corner of her rosebud mouth. “It’s called foreplay. And in case you didn’t notice, I enjoyed it quite as much as you did.”
Her hair was a mass of chestnut curls splayed out across his bedspread, and he couldn’t resist running his fingers through the silken strands. “I love your fragrance, and your
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