“I do,” he groaned, tipping his head back to grant her more access to the tender skin there. “But not yet.”
He moved his hands to her hips and pushed her gently, and she let herself fall backward. In a second, he was on the bed with her, above her, his body bracketing her with heat and muscle as his mouth found hers again. She took the opportunity to run her hands over his back, feeling the sinew shift gloriously under her fingers as he kissed her mouth, her neck, the hollow of her collarbone. She arched under him, hoping and praying his lips would keep moving lower, and he did not disappoint her.
He shifted his body to lie beside her and pulled the lace of her bra aside, and the sound that escaped her when he flicked his tongue over her nipple was one of sheer rapture and relief. He teased the tight, tender skin with his lips and tongue, sending bright, hot sparks of pleasure rocketing through her body and straight to her clit. She gasped for air, eager for more, and once again, he obliged. His other hand ghosted over her rib cage, just as hers had done a few minutes earlier, and then his fingers were on her other breast, the pad of his thumb caressing her nipple through the flimsy fabric. She whimpered and swore in response. Carly had never been the kind of dancer who could pick up choreography simply by watching it. Nick clearly was.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped, and just to make sure he’d understood her, she grasped his wrist and dragged his hand down her stomach. But instead of following her between her legs, his hand stalled at her hip and held tight to the place where her skin stretched over the bone there. He lifted his mouth from her breast, and her eyes flew to his. Before she could ask what was wrong, he spoke.
“I want to stop if it hurts,” he murmured, and her heart flipped over her chest. “I don’t want to hurt you, Carly. If it’s hurting, I want to stop, okay? You have to tell me right away.”
She nodded, struck by the intensity in his gaze. His eyes were dilated and his lips swollen from kissing her, but his mouth was set in a determined line.
“Promise,” he whispered firmly.
“I promise,” she nodded. “Right away.”
He gave her a half smile, and her heart flipped again as he returned his mouth to her nipple. She sighed in relief and took his hand again, guiding it down her body and between her thighs. The sound he made when he touched her for the first time was like nothing she’d ever heard.
“Shit, you’re so wet,” he groaned against her skin, running his middle finger between her folds just the way she’d shown him. The movement sent an electric thrill through her, quickly followed by a hot throb of pleasure as his finger arrived at her clit and began to circle it in an uncanny imitation of what she’d shown him. Pedant, precise, whatever he was, this was perfect. She sighed and arched into his touch, grinding against his hand and chasing the climax that had begun to build the moment he’d started teasing her nipples. His finger sped and slowed, its circles widening and narrowing, and she heard her own breath become ragged and needy.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned again, and this time, he didn’t.
“I won’t stop until you come,” he said, his voice low and husky with need. She could feel his erection pressing against her hip, hard and ready, and her mouth watered at the thought of what she could do to it as soon as she came.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” she gasped, and she snaked her hand in between their bodies to wrap her hand around his cock. The sound of his groan, hot and desperate around her nipple, pushed her over the edge. She bucked frantically against his hand, wishing the glorious, heedless free fall could last forever. But soon it was over, and Nick’s fingers stilled against her, her breath became steady, and normal sensation returned to her limp, exhausted limbs.
She opened her eyes and saw a shaft of golden morning light splayed across the ceiling. Perfect photography light, she thought, but what photograph could ever capture this moment? She gave Nick’s cock another squeeze and was rewarded with that same delicious sound. Grinning, she reached down and took his hand, then gave his shoulder a gentle push. He rolled onto his back and she followed him, straddling him easily and going straight for his fly. He’d waited long enough for this, and so had she.
Carly had laid on her back panting for all of three seconds—just long enough for him to wonder how she’d react if he slipped his slick finger into his mouth to taste her—before she sat up and pushed his shoulder until he was the one on his back. She straddled him and pulled off his already-unbuttoned shorts, pulling them down his legs hastily and laughing when he pointed his toes so she could get them over his feet.
“Thanks, ballet,” she muttered as she tossed his pants onto the floor, and then she turned back and looked down at him, stretched out on the bed in nothing but his underwear. “No, really,thanks, ballet,” she said. She bit her lower lip and squeezed one of his quads appreciatively, and the sight of her hand on his thigh, so close to his hard, aching cock, was torment. As if she’d heard his thought, she slid her fingers up his leg, the movement slow but the pressure firm.
The first time she stroked his cock through the fabric, he let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a hiss, and she looked down at him with an evil smile. She repeated the movement, and this time he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting against her hand. The smile widened into a grin, and for a moment he thought she would stay there, straddling him with her bra askew and her pussy bare and wet, until he couldn’t take it any longer. But to his bottomless relief, she reached forward, extricated his cock, and wrapped her hand around the base of him. He growled and pressed his head into the pillow, more desperate to come than he could remember being in his life. Her grip was firm, but her hand was still. After a second, he looked up at her and saw that her eyes were wide and her mouth slightly open in what looked like surprise.
“Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “I just … um … I’m really glad I don’t have to try to fit that inside me,” she explained, and he laughed to the ceiling. She squeezed his cock, and pleasure streaked up his spine. “That is some Big Nick Energy.”
He laughed again, but the sound was strangled when she started stroking him in earnest. He wanted to close his eyes and let the sensation drag him under, but just as he was about to, she took her hand off him and put it between her own legs. A second later, her fingers returned, wet and slippery with her arousal, and all he could do was stare as she stroked him, her tempo increasing as his breath quickened.
“Shit, Carly,” he groaned as she ran the pad of her thumb around the head of his cock, smearing a drop of pre-come over the swollen, unbearably tender skin. She kept stroking him, and now he matched her rhythm with his hips, thrusting up into her slick hand and chasing the orgasm that was gathering at the base of his spine. She worked him faster, her eyes fixed on his face and her other hand braced against his flexing thighs as he groaned and gasped beneath her. Then she moved that hand between his legs and gently squeezed his heavy, clenching balls, and he was dragged under.
The release was so intense that he slammed his eyes shut and momentarily saw white. He was drowning in pleasure, hot and fierce, and Carly kept pumping her hand over his cock, wringing every last moment of his orgasm out of his body. When he opened his eyes, every inch of his skin buzzing and burning, he saw her sitting over him, her hand still wrapped around him and a wicked smile on her face. Carly Montgomery was a menace, but she was a menace who’d just handed him the most breathtaking orgasm of his life. He couldn’t remember ever coming so hard, and certainly not from a hand job.
She moved to climb off him, but he shook his head.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, surprised he was able to get the words out.
“I was going to get you a tissue,” she objected. She glanced down at the thick spray of come on his lower abdomen.
He shook his head, then reached for her wrist and pulled her hand toward him.
“What are you—” She stopped talking and gasped when he ran his tongue lightly over her palm. He swirled it around her middle finger and then his own. He could taste her on his hands, and on her own, and it was intoxicating enough to make his dick twitch against his stomach.
“Big Nick Energy,” she said with a weak laugh, pulling her hand away from his mouth and putting it back on his cock.
It rained all day, and Nick didn’t even mind that it meant missing an afternoon of shooting. They found plenty of ways to pass the time. When they finally stumbled out of Carly’s bedroom shortly before noon, Carly grabbed her wallet and dashed downstairs in search of lunch. After she closed the door loudly behind her—as he’d learned in the last few hours, Carly did just abouteverythingloudly—Nick flopped onto the couch, head slightly foggy.
A holiday fling was, if he was honest with himself, not his best idea. He’d known that as he was buying her an American-style iced coffee, as he was climbing the stairs to her apartment, as he arrived at her door. It seemed like the kind of idea that would only create more mess and more hurt. A few weeks of messing around, and then the wedding, and then what? They’d go their separate ways, he supposed. Her back to New York, and he back to … well, he still didn’t know. Would he stay here? Go back to Paris? Try to make a home and a career somewhere else entirely? He had no idea, and he should have been using this time to figure it out. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from walking to that café, handing over his card, and rushing up the steps. And then she’d opened the door looking sleepy and rumpled and charmingly annoyed at him, and he wished he’d come over sooner. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so bewitched by a woman, not even Delphine.
