“Sonya…” Those two syllables growled from the back of his throat.
Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she grinned up at him. The cat about to go after the cream. Then, still holding his gaze, she opened her mouth and swallowed his swollen head whole.
“Fuck me,” he groaned, curling the fingers of one hand into a fist while he placed the other hand on the side of her face, wanting to feel the muscles in her jaw work, wanting to feel her cheeks hollow when she sucked him. “You have the sweetest mouth,” he whispered. She rewarded his praise by sucking him deeper, swirling her tongue around the sensitive ridge surrounding his crest. “So eager.”
The muscles in his thighs and ass quivered with the need to thrust. He couldn’t help but indulge himself. Just a little. Uncurling his fingers from a fist, he grabbed a handful of her hair and slowly flexed his hips until the tip of his dick hit the back of her throat.
She gagged a little, but didn’t struggle against him, willing to let him do whatever he wanted. That was his Sonya, a sensual creature that didn’t shy away from the raw, erotic power of sex.
Shuddering, he pulled out of her mouth. Her teeth and tongue and lips stroked him the entire way. He wondered if he’d ever been harder than he was now. Even in the dim light, he could see every vein. Feel the ridge around his flaring head where it met the steely column of his cock.
“I want to fuck you now, Sonya.” Although, in his heart he knew it would be more than that. It would be making love.
Her smile was sultry. “Yes, please.”
Those two words were all he needed to hear. He had her beneath him before she could finish yelping her surprise. She welcomed him between her legs, her thighs tightening around his hips, her ankles crossing beneath his ass, her wet, hot channel slicking his hungry dick.
He stole kisses from her rather than sharing them with her. He kneaded her breasts. Strummed her nipples. Caressed her willing body with abandon. He’d given her what she needed, what she wanted, and now he was taking. This was for him.
When she was mewling and moaning and begging beneath him, he pushed to his knees, searched through the back pocket of his Levi’s, which were now down around his ankles, and located his wallet. He didn’t keep much of anything in there besides money. No ID. No credit cards. But he’d been a member of the Israel Boy and Girl Scouts Federation as a kid, and he knew all about being prepared for anything. Which meant a condom was a must in a grown man’s tool kit.
Except…
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“What?” She pushed up on her elbows, her hair a wild mess around her shoulders, her cheeks and breasts pink with beard burn. “What is it?” she demanded when she saw his face. He knew he probably looked like a man facing a firing squad.
“No condom,” he told her, letting his head fall back against his shoulders. “Goddamn Christian!” he growled his fury, his words bouncing around the ceiling of the circus ring.
“Who’s Christian?”
“A coworker. A teammate. A thieving sonofabitch who stole the condom out of my wallet so he could—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Never mind. The point is…no condom.”
Sonya smiled. It was a knowing smile. A naughty smile. Then she feigned thoughtfulness and tapped her lips with one finger. “If only there were other ways we could make each other come.”
He leveled an intrigued look on her, his dick wagging back and forth in anticipation. “What do you have in mind?”
“Take off your boots and jeans, and I’ll show you.”
Chapter 22
Three! Three glorious orgasms!
Sonya’s dry spell was officially over!
She would have pumped a fist in the air except her bones had turned into wet noodles and her muscles quivered and twitched like she’d run a race. Movement was impossible. Which was why she was sprawled atop Angel, his breaths lifting and lowering her in a soothing rhythm, like floating down a big, warm, lazy river.
Sixty-nine-ing, while fun, was a lot of work when it was girl-on-top. Still, she was happy with how they’d come together even as they’d both come apart. Happy with how their bodies had given pleasure and taken pleasure, pulsing like a shared heartbeat.
Sex was odd in that it was the only thing in the world that was simultaneously selfless and selfish.
Now, Angel’s dick, that fantastically large column of flesh and blood and steely strength lay spent against his lower belly. She wished she could get a good look at it, but the dim light made it impossible to make out any details. Like most Iranian men, he was circumcised. That much was obvious. And she reveled in the feel of his thigh, warm and hard and crinkly with man hair, beneath her cheek.
She yelped when he slapped her ass, his breaths hot against the insides of her thighs. “Move off me, woman. Unless, of course, you want me to start kissing your sweet pu—”
“Can’t move.” She cut him off even as her sweet ahem gave a feeble little throb of interest. “Bones have melted. Muscles have atrophied. You’ve killed me with orgasms. I hope you’re happy.”
