“You get to me, too.” He presses against me from behind, letting me feel the long, hard length of him. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?”
“Maybe a hint.” I squirm, trying to work his finger deeper. To make his bicep brush my nipples again. His breath feels warm against my neck, and the solidness of his chest leaves me craving the feel of it against my naked breasts.
How can I want him this desperately when I’ve had him already? I’ve always loved sex, but I’ve never felt as insatiably turned on as I do with Ian.
My knee bumps the wine bottle, and I make a frantic grab for it before it can topple in the grass. Ian reaches out and sets it on a hard patch of earth at the base of a tree.
Then he rolls us to our sides, his fingers barely missing a beat between my legs. He shifts so he’s snugged up spoon-style behind me, his cock pressing against my tailbone.
We’re hidden by the blanket and the cover of darkness, so I reach up and wriggle out of my panties. My skirt stays on, but Ian hikes it up around my waist so I’m bared to him.
There’s the soft snick of a zipper behind me, and he’s nudging my opening. I shift one leg, a silent plea for him to take me. To plunge in hard and fast.
His cheek rests against mine, arms enveloping me in a nest of heat. “I love this,” he murmurs as he presses against my slick opening “Feeling you with nothing between us.”
He slides inside, and I cry out softly. Crickets fall silent in the pasture, then start up again three seconds later like nothing happened.
But everything’s happening under this blanket. Ian’s hips set a rhythm that has my whole body moving with him. With my thighs pressed together, I feel every hard inch of him inside me.
“Show me,” he whispers as his palm skims my breasts on the way down. The pad of his thumb glides over my clit, making me whimper. “Show me exactly how you like it, Sarah. How to make you come like this.”
I groan as he drives into me from behind, working his magic both inside and out. “I think you’ve pretty much nailed it.”
“I want to feel how you touch yourself,” he says. “I want to know exactly what gets you there.”
His thumb’s delicious circles are driving me insane in the best possible way, a technique that’s damn near perfect. I couldn’t do it better myself, but I love that he’s eager to know my body. That he recognizes there’s an art to getting a woman off like this.
“Just like that,” I murmur, sliding my hand down and applying the tiniest bit of pressure to his fingers. “Yes.”
He responds with just the touch I’m craving, not too firm, not too soft, exactly right. He pushes into me again from behind as his fingers move over my clit.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growls in my ear.
I groan as he tilts his hips to hit something amazing. His fingers glide over my sensitive nub, mimicking the rhythm I’ve set for us. “Oh! Just like that.”
“Do it, Sarah,” he murmurs. “Keep grinding on me just like that. Show me how you like it.”
I press against him, conscious of every point where our bodies are touching. His stubbled cheek is rough against mine, leaving every nerve raw and tingly.
My hand still covers his, and I move his fingers faster, kicking up the intensity. He kisses the edge of my jaw and pumps into me with slick, even strokes.
The smell of crushed grass fills my senses, and I clutch a handful of it to keep myself from toppling over. To brace against his delicious thrusts. Somewhere in the distance a coyote howls, and I wonder how many night creatures are getting an eyeful right now. The air feels crisp and cool on my face, but blissfully warm here in our cocoon. I lift my gaze to the sky and feel myself swirling into the funnel of stars above us.
When his body tenses, I know he’s close. I’ve learned how to read him, just like I’ve learned how to get us both there at the same time. I move his fingers faster, gasping as he seizes up.
“Ian,” I gasp.
He curses and thrusts in hard, like those two syllables were a blessing. A cue for us both to go hurtling over the edge together.
His shudder ripples through me, and I let go of his hand to clutch at the grass. He keeps stroking, moving faster as I cry out at the crest of the first wave. My fingers tear a clump of grass from the earth as I plummet over the edge. The smell of fresh dirt and torn grass fills my senses as Ian fills the rest of me, pumping me so full I’m dizzy with it.
When we’re both breathless and spent, he doesn’t pull out. Not right away. He’s still throbbing inside me, and I lie there savoring the sensation of being this close to another human. To Ian, not just anyone. Ian.
He presses a kiss into the hollow beneath my ear. “Was that pretty close to an orgasm?”
I laugh and snuggle back against him. “Pretty close,” I murmur. “Pretty close to perfection.”
And that’s when I know something else.
