Petula arched up, and her legs shook.
Then, before she could wrap her brain aroundthat, his fingers moved toward her clit, parting her hair, and zeroing right in on her anticipatory, hot-button.
Right.Hotbutton.
It hadneverbeen hot before. Not once in her life. But right now, it was on fire.
By the time Julian’s mouth latched onto her acutely needy flesh, Petula was already on the edge.
She didn’t need his fingers up inside her. She didn’t need any more stimulation. She was…there.
Petula shot off like a bronc-rider out of the chute, barreling toward the most intense orgasm of her life.
Fireworks. Stars.You name it, Petula was seeing it.
Had Julian said, epic? There needed to be a bigger word.
Her quaking went on for far longer than she’d imagined, and it was beyond words, hanging onto it.
But nothing lasted forever.
Beginning to come down, Petula’s brain reengaged, and she wondered why the books she’d read had never mentioned the complete loss of reason that had made her dig her nails into the back of Julian’s head, most likely…drawing blood?
She hoped she hadn’t hurt him.
Julian’s tongue slowed. Petula started breathing again.
Should she be embarrassed at her unexpected, unbridled enthusiasm?
Before that thought could take root in her brain, Julian spoke up.
“That was perfect,” he breathed against her, the puff of air from his mouth against her sensitive clit making her inner walls spasm again.
Oooh.
Aftershocks, she decided right then and there, were certainly worthy of an honorable mention.
“I think I’m dead,” Petula muttered. “But in a good way.”
Julian laughed. “I’m glad. Shall I give you a chance to relax, or should we go for two and see what happens?”
“Two, please,” Petula answered without hesitation.
When he pulled away, she wanted to complain, but she knew it was only to get protection. Which proved he was far more in control than she was. If left up to her, she would have forgotten all about it.
Petula tensed a little when Julian moved back over her and nestled between her legs.
As if sensing her sudden case of jitters, he stopped, poised.
“We don’t have to do anything more,” he assured her, nuzzling her neck. “If you?—”
Petula placed her hands on his solid, muscled ass—whose contours were permanently etched into her brain from his earlier bump and grind—and drew him forward.
He grunted, then eased in as if he were coming home.
Within a few thrusts, Petula knew he was going to rock her world again.
Nothing had ever felt better.
