Besides… no one had to know.No one ever had to know.
She laughed when he lifted her and cradled her against his chest, only to kneel in the grass and set her gently atop it.Soft and thick, almost better than a bed, as if the ground and grass were plumping itself up for her.For them.He remained there, though, his blue eyes rimmed with gold, the sun gilding his skin.She felt his regard in every part of her.It began to make her squirm and ache.
“Apollo, come to me.”
“Not yet.”He ran the tip of his tongue along the line of his upper teeth, as if contemplating a delicacy he intended to devour.
“I need you,” she moaned.
“Not.Yet.”
“This is payback for earlier?”
“Patience.”He palmed his cock, squeezed his bollocks, hissed.
So she did the same, smoothing her hand over her abdomen and between her legs, cupping her breast.
“Wicked woman.”
“No worse than you.Apollo,please.Let us get to it.”
“Where’s the poetry ingetting to it?No, no, no, princess.Since I’ve decided to do this, I’m doing it right.I’m going to take my time.”
A shiver rocked through her, half anticipation, half fear.“We’re so exposed.”
“No one here but you and me and the wind and the sky and the sun.And they don’t care.Now”—he slung a leg over her, straddling her—“slip your delicate little finger into your cunny.”
On a shaky inhale, she did just that.
“You enjoy misbehaving.”
She nodded.
“Curl your finger.”
She did, and a moan slipped out, wavering and wanton.
He cursed and kissed her, replacing her hand with his.Thank God.She’d never needed anything as badly as she’d needed his touch.And now she had it, was burning up with it—his hand on her breast, his mouth tracking across her skin to slip around one nipple, his smalls the most insignificant barrier between them.
When she wanted none.
Calling up her heat was easy with him stirring the coals of her body into leaping life, and she used one finger to hook into the waist of his smalls.The smell of singed linen surrounded them as she tugged and burned until she’d split his smalls from top to bottom.They fell off him.
He pulled back, his gaze jerking from his now naked body to her.He raised a single brow slowly.“You could have simplyasked.”
“Not as fun.”
“Vixen.”He pressed the entire length of his body into her, kissing her hard, rolling them both so she laid atop him.She sat up, exploring the contours of his chest and taut belly.Chiseled and lovely, panting and powerful.
He wouldn’t let her have control for long.When she was distracted by the bunching of his biceps, he dragged his hands up her thighs to her hips where his thumbs stroked up and down the sides of her belly.He didn’t stay there long.When she bent over him to taste the swell of his shoulder muscle, he found—with such ease—the bud at her center that pulsed with each of his touches.He circled, and she tried to concentrate on him.How many times would she have him like this before their time was done?Too few.She needed to savor each second, to learn the texture of his skin and hardness of his muscle.She rubbed a thumb across his lips.And he slipped a finger inside her.Two.He found a rhythm of teasing he’d perfected well over the last few days, and she rode his fingers with his name on her lips.Her body rocked, and rocked, and when she put her lips to the pulse at his neck to kiss it, he curled his fingers and she came undone.
Writhing against him.
Finding the pure elation of climax in his arms as he rose up, gathered her close, and flipped them once more.The grass still soft, soft enough to catch her as she floated back down from the heights of pleasure to find him teasing her opening with the head of his shaft.
She couldn’t touch enough of him—his broad back, his chain-tight arms, his rounded arse.She dug her fingernails into his shoulder, tugged at his hair, hooked a leg around his waist.Before, the aftermath of her climax had made her lazy.Now it maddened her.
Because it wasn’t enough.
