“I can do anything I want to you? With you?”
His eyebrows lifted. “I’m yours.”
She hesitated, nodded, then rolled atop him. Her breasts flattened against his chest. When she bent her knees on either side of his thighs and pushed herself into a sitting position, the length of his shaft pulsed between her legs. Her body responded in kind. She rubbed herself against him experimentally and gasped at the rush of pleasure. The delicious sensation of rubbing in long, slow strokes up and down the length of his cock had her tingling and trembling just like when he’d touched her with his finger.
“Do you feel me?” She ground her body against his again. “What I’m doing?”
“God, yes.” His heated gaze captured hers. “I can’t wait to bury myself inside you, to feel your body clenching around me, to make you come, over and over, until you take me with you.”
She shivered at the passion in his eyes and continued the intoxicating motion for a few moments before scooting upward to kiss him.
The movement swept her breasts over his chest, her nipples hardening as they scraped across the hairs. She sucked in a startled breath at the unexpected pleasure, then did it again. Her entire body responded, heating, moistening, quickening.
His eyes closed briefly, as if in pain. She kissed his lips, his neck, his jaw. Rough stubble scratched at her mouth. She began to wonder what that familiar texture would feel like against her breasts instead of her mouth. She broke the kiss, inched a little further upward, lifted her breasts in her hands. His gaze locked on the display.
“Anything I wish?” she asked again.
“Anything.” The word came out strangled.
She leaned forward until her breasts grazed the side of his face. She pivoted slightly, letting the line of his jaw scrape against one nipple at a time. When her body clenched in response, her eyes widened.
“No matter what I rub against you,” she murmured, “I feel feverish. You make me ache and…need.”
“Me, too,” Gavin muttered.
In response, she splayed her fingers on the pillows above his head and leaned over.
He grabbed her hips, tilted his head, and suckled a puckered nipple into his mouth. Her legs trembled. Without releasing her breast from his mouth, he slid one hand over her thigh and tilted the pad of a finger against her damp core. She whimpered. He continued his tender assault with his hand and his tongue, teasing, nibbling.
When he slid his finger inside, the pressure proved too much. She cried out, tensed, her muscles spasming as the waves of pleasure hit her. When the aftershocks faded, he slipped his hand from her. She fell forward, panting against the pillow, cheek to cheek with him.
“Sorry,” he murmured, not sounding the tiniest bit contrite. “I meant to wait for you to ask.”
“Somehow, I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you.”
He chuckled.
“If,” she began, and lifted her head.
He stopped chuckling.
“If,” she repeated, “you make love to me right this second.”
“Thank you, God,” he muttered.
Before she had a chance to so much as blink, his hands gripped her hips and he rolled them both over in one fluid movement. He trapped her wrists to the pillows on either side of her head and kissed her.
Without lifting his mouth from hers, he nudged her legs apart with his knee, settled himself between her thighs, rubbed his cock against her core just as she’d done when straddling him. The tingling, trembling pressure returned. Every inch of her body yearned for him.
“I said,” she breathed against his mouth, “right this second.”
He tilted his hips. A tantalizing pressure built as his cock nudged her flesh, rubbed against her wetness, dipped a little inside. The brief twinge of pain dissipated under the onslaught of amazing new sensations. He slid the tip of his tongue across her lower lip, across her teeth, into her mouth, every thrust mimicking that which he did with his cock until both tongue and shaft were buried inside of her. She gasped into his mouth. Incredible. He cupped the back of her head, kissed her.
She bit him, suckled him. He rocked his hips against hers, urgent, strong, driving himself deeper inside. His pelvis rubbed against her with an almost unbearable pleasure. She bent her knees, gripped him with her thighs, met him thrust for thrust. This must be what it felt like to truly share one’s soul. She couldn’t have chosen a better man.
His limbs tensed and flexed as he moved inside her. When she bit back a helpless moan, he broke the kiss, panting, the hair across his forehead damp with sweat.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, cradling her to him.
