tongue, he taste-tested
the caviar, going straight to her nipple, sucking both it and the caviar into
his mouth.
She pressed against him, her mound
to his abdomen, his erection nestled along the join of her legs. She would have
opened her thighs, but he rocked in the spoon of her legs.
He pulled back, surveying his
handiwork. One clean, wet nipple with a slash of caviar paste leading straight
to her other breast. “A man’s work is never done.” He bent his head to the
task, licking a path to the goal.
She curled around him, running her
hands down to his buttocks. They tensed beneath her touch though he kept up the
rock of his body between her legs. Opening slightly, she let him fall deeper in
the lee, then clamped her thighs. He slid easier in the drop of moisture, his
cock swelling, hardening.
But he never stopped licking. Not
until he reached her left nipple and sucked it into his mouth. There was
something about the suction, the heat, the direct connection between her nipple
and her clitoris that made her arousal spike. She started to rock with him,
thrusting.
He’d taken her with hot passion.
He’d wanted her with a driving need. Now he seemed to savor her, first with
long minutes of bathtub play that her had coasting along the water’s edge to
orgasm. Coasting without reaching, craving more, but unwilling to give up the
sweetness of foreplay for the big bang.
And now this. His light tongue, his
gentle sucking, his easy thrust and parry between her legs.
He raised his head and smiled, the
bedside lamp glimmering in his eyes like a flame. “That was delicious. Now
where do you want it?”
Her clitoris. Her vagina. His
tongue, his fingers, his hot, hard cock. She craved all that, but more, she
wanted the tempered rise of her excitement. She yearned for the peak, but she
needed the climb to be long and slow. Two steps forward and one step back.
Until she was absolutely mad, until all he had to do was blow on her, and she’d
come.
That was how love should be. A
little forward, a little back, a little give, a little take.
“Since you’re not answering, I
assume I should decide.”
“Do it just right,” she whispered.
A test and a prayer.
He gazed at her, his chin resting
between her breasts. Then he went for the gusto, sliding down her body and
spreading her legs with his hands. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said as he
moistened her with nothing more than that hot gaze of his.
“What am I thinking?”
“That I’m gonna
wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am you since I’ve given you five minutes of sucking on
those gorgeous nipples.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.” Though
her thoughts had been somewhere along that line.
He blew on her as if it were a
punishment for the little lie. Her body shook with an involuntary quiver.
“You’ve got it all wrong.”
She snorted softly.
“I’ve got stamina, sweetheart. And
you’re going to be screaming for me before I even get inside you.”
“Talk, talk, talk,” she teased. It
didn’t matter. She’d take whatever he gave. Hard and fast, or soft and slow. It
only mattered that he’d come back.
“You’re going to scream, that’s a
promise.” Leaning on one elbow, he parted her folds with two fingers. “My,
isn’t this pretty.” He jabbed the tip of his tongue on her clitoris, once,
twice, two jolts of electricity, then he withdrew.
She bit her lip and watched.
Holding her open, he aimed the tube
and squeezed. She squeaked as the cold caviar paste hit her hot, sensitized
clit. Deep inside, her body tightened in need.
“I think that felt good,” he said.
She nodded, loathe to speak in case
her voice cracked.
“How shall I go about this? There’s
the fast suck where I go straight for the caviar and take your pretty little
clit on a quick ride to heaven. Or there’s the slow lick, where I taste each
morsel individually. That may take hours.”
She thrust up. Or rather her body
did. Begging. Pleading. “Just suck and get it over
the caviar, going straight to her nipple, sucking both it and the caviar into
his mouth.
She pressed against him, her mound
to his abdomen, his erection nestled along the join of her legs. She would have
opened her thighs, but he rocked in the spoon of her legs.
He pulled back, surveying his
handiwork. One clean, wet nipple with a slash of caviar paste leading straight
to her other breast. “A man’s work is never done.” He bent his head to the
task, licking a path to the goal.
She curled around him, running her
hands down to his buttocks. They tensed beneath her touch though he kept up the
rock of his body between her legs. Opening slightly, she let him fall deeper in
the lee, then clamped her thighs. He slid easier in the drop of moisture, his
cock swelling, hardening.
But he never stopped licking. Not
until he reached her left nipple and sucked it into his mouth. There was
something about the suction, the heat, the direct connection between her nipple
and her clitoris that made her arousal spike. She started to rock with him,
thrusting.
He’d taken her with hot passion.
He’d wanted her with a driving need. Now he seemed to savor her, first with
long minutes of bathtub play that her had coasting along the water’s edge to
orgasm. Coasting without reaching, craving more, but unwilling to give up the
sweetness of foreplay for the big bang.
And now this. His light tongue, his
gentle sucking, his easy thrust and parry between her legs.
He raised his head and smiled, the
bedside lamp glimmering in his eyes like a flame. “That was delicious. Now
where do you want it?”
Her clitoris. Her vagina. His
tongue, his fingers, his hot, hard cock. She craved all that, but more, she
wanted the tempered rise of her excitement. She yearned for the peak, but she
needed the climb to be long and slow. Two steps forward and one step back.
Until she was absolutely mad, until all he had to do was blow on her, and she’d
come.
That was how love should be. A
little forward, a little back, a little give, a little take.
“Since you’re not answering, I
assume I should decide.”
“Do it just right,” she whispered.
A test and a prayer.
He gazed at her, his chin resting
between her breasts. Then he went for the gusto, sliding down her body and
spreading her legs with his hands. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said as he
moistened her with nothing more than that hot gaze of his.
“What am I thinking?”
“That I’m gonna
wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am you since I’ve given you five minutes of sucking on
those gorgeous nipples.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.” Though
her thoughts had been somewhere along that line.
He blew on her as if it were a
punishment for the little lie. Her body shook with an involuntary quiver.
“You’ve got it all wrong.”
She snorted softly.
“I’ve got stamina, sweetheart. And
you’re going to be screaming for me before I even get inside you.”
“Talk, talk, talk,” she teased. It
didn’t matter. She’d take whatever he gave. Hard and fast, or soft and slow. It
only mattered that he’d come back.
“You’re going to scream, that’s a
promise.” Leaning on one elbow, he parted her folds with two fingers. “My,
isn’t this pretty.” He jabbed the tip of his tongue on her clitoris, once,
twice, two jolts of electricity, then he withdrew.
She bit her lip and watched.
Holding her open, he aimed the tube
and squeezed. She squeaked as the cold caviar paste hit her hot, sensitized
clit. Deep inside, her body tightened in need.
“I think that felt good,” he said.
She nodded, loathe to speak in case
her voice cracked.
“How shall I go about this? There’s
the fast suck where I go straight for the caviar and take your pretty little
clit on a quick ride to heaven. Or there’s the slow lick, where I taste each
morsel individually. That may take hours.”
She thrust up. Or rather her body
did. Begging. Pleading. “Just suck and get it over
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