I wrap my arms around his shoulders, a rock-solid ledge that holds both his strength and his grief. “I want you, Mick. Just like this.” Without any physical or emotional barriers between us.
“Dee.” He reaches for my wrists and capturing my hands, he interlocks our fingers and pins them over my head.
Aligning his broad tip with my sleek entrance, he pushes inside me in slow, thrilling degrees. Every bare, blistering inch of him fills my body.
His groan is long, his voice gravel-rough. “You feel so soft…so snug…so wet. You’re mine, Dee. Always mine.”
Then Mick takes my mouth and my body possessively, driving his claim home. He thrusts hard and deep, rotating his movements to create a delicious friction that strokes me from the inside out. It doesn’t take long before another orgasm brews. I anchor my legs around his waist and dig my heels into his flexing hips. Rising to meet his tempo, lifting into his smooth, precise rhythm until I’m gasping in the throes of a climax so jolting it rips something loose from my very soul.
And Mick’s right there. Increasing the pace of his thrusts, he nails me to the mattress and buries his face against my neck. Telling me between harsh breaths how beautiful I am…how nothing feels as good as this…how he can never get enough of me. That it will never be enough.
Then with one final plunge, his fingers clinch mine and holding fast, he erupts with a guttural groan, ripping another orgasm from me, more intense than the one before. It spins my head and blackens my vision. I fight to remain conscious to experience the most amazing release I’ve ever had.
Seconds later, when the aftershocks have quieted, we lay plastered together; spent. My legs still hooked around him, the pendant crushed between us, his humid breaths gusting against my throat.
“You okay, baby?” he pants.
Now I know what the French mean by an orgasm being alittle death. “If by okay you mean alive, you’d better get a mirror to check.”
Mick grunts a chuckle and massages the life back into my bloodless hands. “That was—”
“Out of this world,” I finish for him, closing my eyes to bask in the intimate feel of having Mick nestled inside me.
“Yeah, it was.” He lifts his head and brushes his lips over my lids, the end of my nose, my mouth. “Again.”
Awed, my eyes pop open and I laugh. “You can do that again?” As a teenager, he could easily go two rounds without a break, but at thirty-three…
A devilish grin shapes his lips as he starts to harden. “With you, I can dothat, all night long.”
“You have practice in—what? Six hours?”
“And I have you now.”
In one fluid movement, Mick rolls onto his back, pulling me with him, and he brings his mouth close to my ear. “Ride me this time.”
His decadent whisper fuels my second wind, and I get into position on my knees to straddle him.
He piles the pillows under his head, so that he’s partially inclined. “I don’t want to miss a single thing.”
Daring myself to shed all my inhibitions and be that fearless woman I long to be, I cover my right breast and knead the plump flesh while I slither the other palm down past my belly and ever so bravely slip two fingers between my legs.
“Damn,” he hisses.
Never have I done anything this bold in front of a man. But this is Mick. And his gaze intent on me is all the encouragement I need. Spreading my fingers just enough to let the nipple poke through, I pinch the elongated tip with my fingers.
“You like?” I ask with all my new found courage.
“Baby, I’m salivating.” Without taking his eyes off me, he moves his large hand down the defined planes of his abs and through the springy patch of dark hair surrounding his big, stiff cock.
I stare in fascination as the veins pulse from the rapid surge of blood. The desire that always surrounds Mick; both consuming and vital heightens my arousal. And when he makes a fist around his glistening shaft and starts a slow, steady pump, I feel like a goddess. Like the queen of the vixens, knowing I can inspire a man who is so unabashedly masculine and sexual.
My body aflame, I churn my hips, trembling as hot shudders rain through me.
“Take me inside you,” he orders in a gritty rasp, his jaw muscle ticking, the tendons in his neck cording tight. “I need to be inside you now.”
I replace his hand with mine and crawl forward. He twitches in my palm when I guide him against my folds, slick from our combined releases. The scent of lust hangs heavy in the air, making my skin flush and my breasts tingle. This craving for Mick is insane. It’s as if the multiple orgasms he’s already given me only whetted my appetite rather than appeased it.
“Dee,” he groans, clutching my hips when I rub his head across my vaginal lips and slide just the tip of him inside me. “You’re killing me.”
