Mistresses: The Consequences Of Desire: Beach Bar Baby / Walk on the Wild Side / Claiming His Own. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
of the breeze against their sweat-slicked bodies.
He circled and toyed with the slick nub, teasing the perfect spot. ‘That’s it, baby, I want to see you come for me.’
One large, blunt finger entered her, then another pushed in beside it, stretching her, stroking the walls of her sex as his thumb continued to play, to provoke. Sensation fired across her skin, trapped her breath under her breastbone. The coil of need tightened like a vice, the pleasure turning to devastating, delicious pain as it built to impossible proportions but wouldn’t let her go.
Clinging to his shoulders, urging him on, she pumped her hips into his hand, riding that wonderfully devious touch as she gave herself up to the riot of sensations.
Then he moved down on the bed, and disappeared between her knees. She shouted out in shock and delight as his tongue lapped at her swollen clitoris. Then he captured the slick nub between his lips and sucked. The coil yanked tight and then exploded in a dazzling shower of sensation. She sobbed—the long, thin cry of completion trapped in her throat as his mouth drove her through the last magnificent swell of orgasm.
She pressed her legs together as he lifted his head, collapsing back to earth. Shuddering and shaking, she opened her eyes as he grinned down at her, his lips slick with her juices.
The rumbled hum of his approval folded around her heart like a caress.
‘Sweeter than a Rum Swizzle,’ he whispered, the sensual, playful grin even more beautiful than the rest of him.
The sight was so unbearably erotic, gratitude swelled in her chest, turning her voice into a throaty purr. ‘Thank you.’
His lips tipped up at the edges. ‘No need to thank me, baby, the pleasure was all mine.’ He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘But we’re not finished yet,’ he added, reaching across her to grab a foil packet from a glass jar on the upturned crate that doubled as a bedside table. He held it up. ‘You want to do the honours, or should I?’
She lifted it out of his hand, her mouth watering at the thought of exploring that magnificent erection. And silently thanking him again for keeping things light and fun. ‘Let me.’
She pushed his shoulder, until he lay on his back, that proud erection jutting up towards his belly button. Holding the packet in her hand, she licked the new bead of moisture off the tip. Savouring the taste of him. And eager to torment him the way he’d tormented her.
But the guttural groan was followed by a harsh expletive and before she could take him into her mouth he clasped her cheeks to hold her back.
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we’re going to have to save that for later. I’m not Superman—and I don’t want to disappoint you.’
He couldn’t possibly disappoint her, she thought. But only laughed at his look of panic. ‘Are you sure you’re not Superman?’
‘I used to be...’ The confident smile returned as he rolled on top of her and snagged the condom packet out of her hand. ‘But you’re zapping all my super-powers.’
Ripping the foil with his teeth, he sheathed himself quickly, before nudging her thighs apart and settling between them. She felt the bulbous head nudge at her entrance as he held her hips, angling her pelvis.
She groaned as the thick shaft speared through the tight sheath, overwhelming her senses as her slick, swollen flesh stretched to receive him.
At last he was buried deep, pushing at her cervix. She gasped, astonished at the fullness, and how right, how exquisite it felt. She stroked his nape with unsteady fingers, enjoying the weight of him, the feeling of intimacy, and unity.
‘I think you’ve boldly gone where no man has gone before.’ She laughed, surprising herself with the ridiculous comment. But her heart felt so full, her body so magnificent, impaled on his. Could she come again? So soon after an orgasm? She certainly never had before, but with Cooper anything felt possible.
He swore, panting, the sinews of his neck straining beneath her fingers as he began to move. ‘Damn it, woman, don’t quote Star Trek at me now,’ he grunted, between thrusts. ‘Can’t you see I’m trying to Klingon here.’
She snorted a laugh that choked into a sob as he stroked a place deep inside that triggered another unstoppable rush towards orgasm.
Goodness. I have a G-spot. Who knew?
‘Touch yourself,’ he demanded. ‘I want you to come with me.’
She spread her own folds, blindly rubbing the stiff nub as he directed, feeling wild and untamed, greedily pursuing her own pleasure as the wave became sharper, sweeter, more glorious.
She rode the crest, his ragged grunts matching her loud moans, and soared towards oblivion with tears of joy and laughter—and staggered astonishment—hovering on her lids.
* * *
She drifted back to consciousness, the euphoria of afterglow slowly replaced by discomfort from the thick penis still lodged inside her.
He lifted off her, making her groan as her tight flesh struggled to release him.
‘That was seriously awesome.’ Flopping over onto his back, he lay with his arm over his face. ‘You’re incredibly tight.’
She felt herself blush, an odd combination of pleasure and acute embarrassment at the intimate comment. ‘Only because you’re so big,’ she said, trying to find the playful tone again.
‘While my ego and I thank you for that...’ he dropped his arm to find her hand and thread his fingers through hers ‘...I’m not that much bigger than the average guy.’
The blush glowed. Maybe it wasn’t just his size that had made him feel so large. Maybe it was because she hadn’t done it with anyone in at least a year. And certainly never with that much energy or enthusiasm.
He turned onto his side, and cupped her cheek, his palm cool against her heated flesh. ‘Has it been a while?’
She blinked, disconcerted by the perceptive comment. ‘Are you a mind-reader?’
He touched her cheek, the tender, curious smile more seductive than the tangy scent of sex that surrounded them. ‘How long?’
She huffed out a laugh, the embarrassment burned away by a new surge of arousal. ‘Far too long, it seems.’
He hooked his thigh over her legs, shocking her when something stiff prodded her hip.
‘Is that...?’ She looked down, stunned to see him hard and ready again still sheathed by the condom.
He lifted her chin, grinning. ‘Yeah, it is.’ The cheeky grin—not to mention his astonishing powers of recuperation—made him seem very boyish. Too boyish.
‘How old are you?’ she asked, before she could think better of it.
His lips tilted. ‘Nearly thirty.’
She propped herself up on her elbows. Good grief, he was still in his twenties. ‘How nearly?’
‘I’ll be twenty-nine next month. Why? You planning to give me a present?’ He cupped her breast, licked at the nipple. ‘I can think of something I’d love to see gift-wrapped.’
‘You’re twenty-eight.’ She scooted back. ‘But that’s...practically a toy boy.’
He chuckled, then grabbed her shoulders and shoved her onto her back, anchoring her in place with one hard thigh. ‘Oh, yeah? So how old are you, then?’
‘I’m thirty-four,’ she said, indignantly.
His gaze drifted over her face. ‘You don’t look it.’
There didn’t seem to be any judgment in the tone, but still she felt...embarrassed. ‘Well, I am.’ Maybe it was only six years but it felt like the wrong six years. ‘Let me up.’
‘Not going to happen, old