She stretched as his hand went behind her back to unhook her bra, and he swirled his warm tongue over her, running the softness and warmth over her skin, and he sucked her until she strained against his mouth,moaning.
As he scooted backward, he pulled her shorts and panties down, and she kicked them away. She tucked one of her bare toes into his waistband and tried to push his pants down, but he ran his palm down her leg and wound it behind his back as he kissed down her stomach.
Oh, yes. She knew what Dieter liked.
Her back arched as his tongue slipped inside her folds.
He was gentle at first,as always, with slow licks and caresses designed to make her crave more.
And she did crave more. He knew every inch of her—that she liked it long and slow at first, that he could rub his thumb just above her folds and make her squirm, and that the point right above her core would make her come so hard her head throbbed.
He grasped her hips in his big hands and sucked her, tonguing her foldsdeeply, until the pleasure tightened around her. She grasped the pillow above her, tossing her head as the wave drove up her body so hard that she couldn’t see or hear anything, and she floated, only aware of his cinnamon scent and the strength of his arms holding her.
When her head cleared, when her eyes could see the sunlight over his shoulder, she realized his body was between her legs, andhe was inside her. He barely moved, pulsing against her, because she was so sensitive from the orgasm.
But he knew that.
He knewher.
Dieter held her hands in his again, his fingers laced with hers, and he kissed her while he rubbed his length through her.
Flicka moaned, wanting more and yet filled so completely that, if he would have taken her hard, it would have hurt. Her body was swollenwith desire and tight around him, and he felt nearly too big for her. Every time his hips pushed himself into her, the pressure was almost too much, but the pleasure swamped her. She was floating as his body rode her.
He shifted, grabbing her legs, and he folded her thighs against her chest to lift her hips.
Flicka gasped, grabbing the pillow above her head again as he pushed more deeply insideher, filling her and driving every thought from her head except to feel him and this moment.
“Mine,”he whispered in her ear as his body drove softly, deeply, into her.
“Yes.”
He moved slowly inside her, coaxing her to respond again, matching her rhythm.
Improbably, her body wound more tightly around him. She clenched her fists, still bound by her tee shirt above her head. His breath turnedragged, and he grunted as he went harder into her. Her breath caught in her throat as he pulsed, and his breath heated her shoulder. The pleasure took her, and she fell apart.
The mindless, fiery abyss of orgasm consumed her.
Flicka’s mind coalesced, tentatively at first.
She remembered how to breathe.
As she flexed her fingers, now freed from her tee shirt, on the white sheet on the bed,she was lying on her stomach with her legs dangling over the edge of the mattress.
Dieter brushed her hair away from the back of her hot neck and rubbed her shoulders, soothing her. His lips touched her spine, and he mouthed the skin on her back and waist until she was practically purring and yet quietly, sleepily turned on and dying for him to take her again.
His hands stroked her ass and thighs,kneading the muscles there. He caressed the tension out of her until she was languid and pliable.
He could have done anything to her, and she would have lain there and taken it.
Her purse thumped on the bed beside her face, then upended.
Her few things fell out of it: keys to the townhouse, her tiny wallet with her casino ID and a little cash, some pens and lip gloss, and a small tube likefor toothpaste.
Tube? Weird,her muddled mind thought.
Dieter’s wide hand grabbed the tube.
Flicka was so wrung out that she couldn’t move. Limpness weighed on her limbs. She was a floppy rubber doll, and her brain was mush.
