I couldn't have told him to stop if my life depended on it.
He kissed lower. Down my abdomen, across my hip bones. Then he settled between my thighs and put his mouth on my pussy.
Rational thought became impossible.
He took his time. Thorough and deliberate, using his tongue and lips and fingers, learning what made me gasp and what made me moan. The texture of the rug beneath me, the heat of the fire on my side, the wet heat of his mouth—sensory overload.
"That's it," he murmured against me. "Let me hear you."
When he added fingers, curling them inside me while his tongue circled my clit, pleasure built in waves. This was too much. Too intense.
My body's responding. Just physical. Control it.
My back arched. My hands fisted in his hair. The orgasm crashed through me and I cried out his name, the sound echoing through the cabin, raw and genuine.
He held me through the tremors, his touch softening as aftershocks rolled through me. When I could breathe again, he kissed his way back up my body.
"That was—" I started.
He kissed me, let me taste myself on his lips. "We're not done."
My hand slid down his chest, his abdomen, wrapping around his cock. He was hard and thick, and when I squeezed, he groaned into my mouth.
"My turn," I said.
I needed this. Needed to take back some control after he'd just made me lose it completely.
I pushed at his shoulders. He went willingly onto his back, the firelight playing across his muscular chest, his flat stomach. I moved down his body, kissing and tasting, making him hiss when I scraped my teeth across his hip bone.
His hands threaded through my hair when I took him in my mouth. Not forcing, just holding on.
"Christ," he breathed. "Ruby—"
I looked up at him, not releasing him, letting him see exactly how much I wanted this. Wanted to make him lose control the way he'd made me lose it.
I worked him with my mouth and hand, learning what made him groan, what made his hips lift. His hands tightened in my hair, and the sounds he was making drove me crazy.
"Fuck," he groaned. "Your mouth—"
I took him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, using my tongue on the underside of his cock. His thighs tensed beneath my hands.
"Ruby, I'm close—if you don't want me to—"
I didn't pull away. I worked him faster, sucking harder, one hand stroking what wouldn't fit in my mouth while the other cupped his balls.
He came with a hoarse shout, his whole body going rigid, pulsing in my mouth. I swallowed, taking everything he gave me, not stopping until he was gasping and oversensitive.
When I released him and looked up, his eyes were dark and stunned.
"Get up here," he said, his voice rough.
I climbed up his body. He rolled us—easy, powerful, his strength evident as he pinned me beneath him on the rug. He positioned himself between my thighs, the head of his cock pressing against my pussy.
But he didn't push inside. His hand slid between us, fingers finding me, circling my clit until I was gasping and squirming beneath him.
"Gil, please—"
His fingers worked me while he kissed my throat, my breasts, building the tension until I was trembling. I hooked one leg high over his hip, changing the angle, silently begging.
