He groaned and shot to his feet, startling her, before holding out his hand. She smiled. “What are you doing?”
“Benson won’t be back to pick us up for hours. I need to see you out of all those clothes. A man could suffocate in all the clothing women have to wear in the West.”
She laughed loudly and took his hand. He pulled her up and spun her around so her back was facing him. His fingers made quick work of the buttons of her dress, petticoats, chemise, and drawers. He turned her to face him, and Lisbeth lifted a brow. “How did I end up completely bare, but you are still dressed?”
Thomas didn’t respond but let his eyes roam over her form. Lisbeth blushed, feeling suddenly shy even though he’d seen her this way in Syria. “You are so beautiful. It dazes me every time I look upon you.”
“I’m not as young—”
He interrupted her. “No, don’t say it. Every curve of your body is a work of perfection. It causes a hunger in me that leaves me breathless.”
Thomas pulled her to him, lifting her slightly off the ground. He kissed her as her body slid down his. She whimpered as his hard shaft slid against her feminine folds before pressing against her belly. His lips pressed against hers, as his tongue demanded entry into her mouth. She didn’t fight him, wanting to spar with him. Their tongues pushed and stroked against one another until they both pulled away breathless.
Lisbeth began to unbutton his shirt as he pulled the fabric from his pants. It fell to the floor, and she ran a hand along his firm, broad chest. Her hand drifted down to his flat stomach, tense from her touch. She unclasped his pants, and they fell around his ankles before he stepped out of them.
His large shaft stood at attention, demanding to be touched. She ran one finger down its length, and Thomas hissed. “Do you know how empowering it is to know how much you desire me, Thomas?”
“There is nothing I want more,” he moaned as her hand stroked him. His hips began to rock.
Lisbeth squeezed her thighs together in anticipation of having him buried so deep in her. “What do you want, Thomas?”
He groaned. She leaned up and kissed his jaw and then his lips. “I want to please you.”
Her hand swirled over his taut stomach. “Do you want me on my knees?”
Thomas looked down at her ravenously. Lisbeth bit her lip, drawing his eyes to her mouth. Finally, he hoarsely muttered, “Christ, I think I may combust, but yes.”
Lisbeth dropped to her knees and slid the length of him into her mouth. She delighted in the taste of him at the tip. He wrapped his fingers in her hair. Pins went flying everywhere as her hair tumbled about her shoulders. She looked up at him, and their eyes connected. The ache in her core intensified as she took him in and out of her mouth. With every thrust, he groaned or whimpered. His pace increased, and Lisbeth could tell he was close.
The hold on her hair tightened, and with one last thrust, he spent in her mouth. He moaned as she drank him down. She pulled back, sitting on her heels and smirked up at him. Thomas leaned down and rubbed his thumb across her lips. “My temptress. My Layla. My everything.”
He joined Lisbeth on the bedding. She rolled onto her back and wantonly splayed her legs. He lay on his side, looking down at her form. Minutes passed as they enjoyed the comfortable silence between them. It had always been like this with them, comfortable and easy.
Thomas’s hand slid down her body until he reached her quim. She tilted her head back and moaned, needing his touch. He teasingly stroked her at first, but it wasn’t enough. Lisbeth wanted his fingers in her. She needed to ride them. His fingers penetrated her, and she gasped. He slid them in and out of her as she bucked and moaned. His eyes grew hungry, and he brushed a kiss across her mouth.
Thomas positioned his hard shaft at her entrance. Her eyes flew to his face, and he said, “Once will never be enough with you.”
Lisbeth pulled him to her, and he thrusted into her deeply. She let out a whimper, reveling in how he stretched her. He slid in and out of her, taking his time. The movements were driving her mad. She wanted more of him and deeper.
She urged him on by wrapping her legs around him and demanding more. He chuckled darkly. “My ravenous temptress. Tell me what you want?”
Lisbeth demanded, “Harder and deeper, Thomas.”
He kissed her neck. “As you wish.”
His next thrust was exactly as she requested, and so was the one after that. She moaned. Lisbeth took all he offered, needing him more with every joining of their bodies. He slid into her again and then this time swiveled his hips as he was buried in her. Her feminine nub throbbed, and she let out a strangled moan.
As his movements continued, he murmured in her ear, “Is that what my Lizzie likes? A good pounding?”
She moaned. He pulled out and thrust again, rotating his hips. The ache in her core was so intense that she could barely utter a comprehensible word.
“Does my cock please you, love?” he asked, the breath of his words against her skin sending shivers down her body.
“Yes,” she finally gasped out.
He thrusted and swiveled over and over again until the ache in her lower body exploded. She whimpered, and he cupped her bottom, pounding into her, chasing his own release. Thomas continued with his relentless thrusting. She clung to him, and then he plunged into her one more time before sliding out and spending onto a cloth. He fell down on the bedding next to her, breathing heavily.
Their hands found each other, and they intertwined their fingers, both staring at the ceiling. He’d pulled out. Lisbeth whined, “You didn’t finish in me.”
