When her thighs shook on either side of his head, he stopped changing it up and stuck with what was working, letting her grind against his face as she got to that peak. Her body clenched up, froze for a beautiful moment, then shuddered back to earth, twitching against his tongue and around his fingers. He stayed with her as her limbs fell wide against the bed, until she sighed and ran her fingers through his hair, and finally spoke. "Wow."
Yep. A God damn ten-foot-tall king, that's what he was.
He pushed himself up to lie next to her. She leaned in and licked his mouth, tasting herself, and his cock surged to extra-hard with a new rush of blood.
"You taste so good," he murmured.
She made a happy sound. "I bet you do, too." Leaning in, she licked his neck, a long, luscious swipe that ended just behind his ear. "Can I taste you, Owen?"
How had he gone thirty-seven years without knowing what it was to have her mouth, wet and hungry against his skin? He would never be the same. What did he taste like to her? “Lick me again,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his plea desperately honest.
“I’ll lick you all over.”
That thrilled him to his core. The thought of her tongue on his belly, her mouth on his cock. The wicked smile she might flash before she swallowed his length. She moved over him, her hair tickling his body as she used her mouth on his chest, his nipples, his lower belly. When she finally got to his belt, he didn’t stop her this time. She undressed him, then perched between his legs and wrapped her lips around his erection.
He’d never felt anything so lovely in his entire life. He’d neverimaginedanything so good as the playful way she used her tongue around his crown. It was hyperbole and truth at the same time. Owen liked sex all right, it felt good. But this wasn’t that. This was more, this was steeped in play and mischief and it felt profoundly, deeply intimate.
Warning bells should have been going off in his head. Instead there was a ticker tape parade.
But he didn’t want to come like this. Not right now. And Kerry must have read his mind, because she lifted her head. “Condom?”
He took care of it, under her careful and therefore erotic observation, and then she climbed on top. There was a moment just before she took the aching tip of him into her body when she paused and just looked at him, where she locked her gaze on his and held his attention.Ready?Oh yeah.
Then she sank down an inch, and Owen’s eyes rolled back in his head. Slowly, Kerry rocked her hips, easing him into her. She was tight and hot, and took her time. Her breasts swayed as she rode him, and he reached for her. Her chest arched into his touch, her nipples hard as diamonds. She clapped her hands onto his, holding on to him as she sped up the pulse of her hips. The soft push of her thighs against his sides was driving him mad in the best way.
As tension built, he eased her down, so she could brace her hands on his shoulders, so her nipples were closer to his mouth—yes—and so he could hold on to her hips, still those soft fucking thighs, and take over.
He thrust into her from below, driving up off the bed as she trembled in his arms. His orgasm suddenly threatened to take over, no stopping it. “Touch yourself,” he growled. “Get yourself there.”
“I’m there,” she whispered, her breath panting to match his. He clamped one hand on her hip, buried the other in her hair, and swallowed her cries as he slammed his cock all the way into her one last time, burying himself deep in her gorgeous pussy as his climax spurted out of him.
Sex would never be the same.
Owen would never be the same. And he wasn’t fucking complaining. “Holy hell,” he rasped. “That was amazing.”
She kissed him, then kissed him again, before sliding off his body and nestling into his side. He grabbed a tissue and dealt with the condom, then hauled her back on top of him. The top of her head fit perfectly on his chest, and he breathed in the scent of her hair, fruity and vanilla. The heavier scent of sex hung on the air, and the two merged together, burning into his mind.
Her fingers slid over his skin, tracing the moon on his arm. He waited for the question—what’s the story here?—but it didn’t come. When she looked up at him, she smiled, a wild, joyous look. “I like the feel of your skin,” she said. “You’re strong.”
“Strong enough to hold you up in the shower.”
She sucked in a delighted breath and he rolled out of bed, then reached for her. She squeaked his name as he hauled her into his arms.
“Strong enough to carry you there, too,” he muttered as she buried her face in his neck. God, she felt good against him. Sweet and soft and warm.
Her shower was built for one, so round two was a lot of kissing and touching and being pressed against the wall. Kerry sank to her knees and brought him back to full strength immediately. Once the stars cleared from his eyes, he eased his fingers into her and she rode his hand.
“I don’t want you to be sore,” he whispered as he pumped into her slowly.
“Worth it,” she murmured back.
When she came for the third time, he watched her right up close, savouring the way her lips trembled and her throat worked on her wordless gasps.
He called her beautiful and meant it in the deepest way possible.
But once they climbed out of the shower, he couldn’t ignore the time on the clock—not when Kerry glanced at it, not when his internal Dad alarm went off, either. He dried her carefully with a towel as he sat on the edge of her bed.
“This was amazing.” She kissed him, soft and lingering, before swaying to her closet and pulling on a t-shirt that barely covered anything. He wanted to drag her back into bed.
