And then he dropped his mouth to one breast and traced her nipple with his tongue. She’d seen men in the halls do this with their lovers, but she’d never felt it. Now she let out a cry in the quiet of the room. The wet heat of his mouth against her already ultrasensitive nipple was too much. Too much sensation. It shot through her body and she arched against the flow of it.
He smiled against her body—and then he sucked. She jolted with the feel of it, the surprising burst of pleasure. It was perfect, not too hard, not enough to create pain, but just enough to wake up every part of her she hadn’t realized was asleep. She heard herself moaning, sighing, rather like the women in the club did so many nights.
And she surrendered to it all as he moved to her opposite breast and repeated his actions, all the while massaging the one he had left behind. She lifted her hips as he did so, reveling in the warmth and heat that flooded her, the desire that built ever higher with each unexpected touch. When he at last released her nipple with a pop and looked up her body, she braced again. Her body was most certainly ready for him now. She felt like she was on fire.
And yet he still didn’t rear up over her and mount her. His lips glided lower, to her stomach. His hands skimmed her hips, tracing the line of her body, cupping her backside and lifting her. Her legs fell open and she stared as he settled between then, his face even with her sex.
Her cheeks were on fire now. This was far too intimate, far too wild. Something women in this club did, but not ladies. Certainly ladies did not—
The thought was cut off when he touched her sex, gently parting the folds and revealing her fully. She was shaking as he blew a gust of hot breath to her most hidden secret places. Her husband had never done this. She’d seen men do it but never pictured herself on the receiving end.
He licked her.
She gripped the sheets in both hands and gasped as her body lifted of its own accord. He licked her again and her heels dug into the mattress. Then she could no longer distinguish one lick from the next. His tongue moved over her, around her, inside of her, tasting and teasing. Tempting and tormenting. She turned her head against the pillow with a shuddering sigh. She lifted her hips, grinding into his mouth, surrendering to the unexpected and powerful pleasure he was creating with every movement. Every lick,everything.
She had touched herself before. Found that slick nub that made her body quake with intense waves of pleasure. He found it too, and suddenly the focus on his tongue switched to that sensitive place. He laved it, he swirled around it, he sucked it. She felt herself building to the release she’d found with her hands, but it felt different this time. More powerful, certainly more out of control. She reached for it desperately, wanting it more than breath or life in this moment.
And then it was there. She let out a keening cry she knew would echo in the hall. She didn’t care. Waves of sensation were washing over her, her hips jerking against them, against him and the intensity he was creating. She wanted more, she needed less, she wanted everything.
And he continued on, tormenting her through the crisis until she flopped weak and spent on the pillows. She felt him move, his mouth retracing the path back up her body. She glided her fingers into his hair, murmuring pleasure as he licked and nibbled his way over every crest and valley of her body. He reached her mouth and she opened to him, tasting the earthy flavor of her own body on his tongue as he drove it deep inside her mouth.
She sank into the sensation once more, her body still throbbing from release. It was nothing like she’d ever felt, not on her own, certainly not with her husband.
The stranger nudged her knees a bit wider and she allowed it, spreading herself like a wanton beneath him. There was the press of him at her entrance and she broke away from the kiss with a gasp as he settled against her, breaching her just the tiniest bit with the hard thrust of his cock.
“Change your mind?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
Her gaze flitted to his face. “It’s a little late for that,” she managed to gasp out.
He shook his head. “It’s never too late to say no.”
She stared at him. There was nothing false about the look in his eyes. If she refused him, he would pull away and that would be the end of it. He would let her have her pleasure and walk away without any other demands.
“I don’t want to say no,” she said softly. “But it’s been a long time.”
A tiny smile quirked up one side of his mouth, and then he said, “For me too.”
He thrust gently as he said it and then he was inside, really inside. Her body stretched to welcome him, then more of him. She let out a long sigh as he took more and more. It felt so damned good, so right as he fully seated himself inside of her and rested his forehead to hers with a ragged breath.
For a moment, he just lay like that, their bodies entangled, their breath matching. But then he ground his hips and the quiet connection dissolved into something far more animal and passionate.
He took. Like a man possessed, he thrust, circling his hips with every down stroke, teasing her with every withdrawal. She rose to meet him, clawing at his back as the pleasure she’d felt moments ago mounted once more. She had no idea if she could find more than one release, but she reached for it regardless, mewling out wordless sounds as sensation shot through every nerve in her body.
She lifted as he swiveled those trim hips and the orgasm came again. This time it was more intense, and she clung to him helplessly as he drove her through the waves harder and faster. She shivered beneath him, swept away from thought and reason and everything but the powerful sensation of surrendering all she was to this man she didn’t even know.
If anything, that made it even more powerful.
“I can’t wait,” he gasped, that deep voice lined with strain.
“Don’t wait,” she cried out.
He withdrew as her body continued to flutter with release, and roared out a desperate sound of pleasure. He pumped his cock and came before he flopped down beside her on the bed, taking great gulps of air like he’d run from London to Brighton.
She reached out and curled her hand against his chest, almost to make sure this was real. It had actually happened.
Because it felt like a dream. And she didn’t want to wake up.
Chapter Five
