“Quinn,” I pleaded as he pumped into me in slow, languid strokes. “More.”
“Patience.” He grinned wickedly. “I told you I want to savor you.”
Gently he removed his fingers and then tugged down my underwear. My legs shook as I stepped out of them and Quinn pressed a hand to my stomach. “Sit down, lie back, and spread for me.”
Yes, yes, and yes.
I stumbled onto the edge of the bed but didn’t lie back. “I want to watch,” I whispered, widening my thighs slowly.
The muscle in Quinn’s cheek flexed as though he had to check his control. Finally, he nodded and reached for me, pulling my legs over his shoulders and my bottom up off the bed. I cried out, reaching for purchase to steady myself and realizing quickly Quinn had me. He wouldn’t let me fall.
As his head bent between my thighs, I slid my fingers through his hair and steadied myself with my other hand on his shoulder.
His beard tickled the sensitive skin there seconds before I felt his tongue push at my entrance.
“Oh!” I arched, my head falling back in instinct, but I righted myself because I wanted to watch. I wanted to know it was Quinn with his mouth on me.
His blue eyes flashed with triumph in the dim light as he nuzzled deeper into me and licked me from entrance to clit.
I made a guttural sound of want, curling my fingers into the soft strands of his hair as he tormented me. I tried to move against his mouth, but his fingers dug into my thighs, holding me in place. He suckled me, pulling hard, and I panted as the preclimactic tension built. His tongue circled my clit and thenslid down in a devouring, ravenous lick before pushing inside me.
“Quinn!” I undulated into him, my fingers tightening in his hair, tugging, making him grunt with approval and fuck me harder with his tongue. “Don’t stop!” I attempted to thrust against his mouth, climbing higher toward my orgasm.
“Look at me,” Quinn demanded and so I did.
I would have done anything for him in that moment.
Holding my gaze, he returned to the bundle of nerves at my apex and gently pushed two fingers inside me. He watched me as I gasped and panted and moaned his name, and he sucked until I shattered into a million fiery pieces.
Light filled my vision as the release quaked through me in powerful shudders. I could feel his groans between licks as he lapped up my climax.
Even as the pleasure of it zinged through my blood, I still felt this tight need in my gut, like there were a hundred more orgasms trapped inside me. My hands reached for Quinn as he lifted me to place me firmly in the middle of the bed.
He braced himself, his cheeks flushed, eyes bright, his arms shaking a little as his eyes caressed my face like a starving man. That savage need made me throb harder. “Come inside me,” I pleaded, smoothing my hand over his chest. “Quinn.”
He gave a dazed shake of his head. “I’m not done savoring you.”
As he came down over me to kiss me, his jeans rubbed roughly against my bare skin, the fabric of his shirt fluttering against my stomach in a way that was strangely erotic. As was the taste of myself on his tongue. The tickle of his beard on my face. And yet, he cupped my cheek in his hand with such tenderness, it scored an ache across my chest.
I wanted to rip off his clothes and ride his cock hard and at the same time I wanted to revel in him too, to anticipate what he planned to do to me next.
Quinn’s kiss was deep but slow, sexy and in control, and so tender I felt the sting of tears in my nose. I curled my hands around his biceps, my fingers digging into his muscle, desperation and exploration colliding in my touch.
Years of longing filled that kiss.
I could lie to myself and say this was just sex, but it was more.
It was two bound souls finally reunited, and it was as painful as it was exquisite.
As if he heard my thoughts, Quinn’s kiss grew hungrier, more urgent, his hands exploring my body, squeezing my waist in a way that felt frantic. Then just as quickly, he seemed to check himself again, his touch gentling to brush strokes across my ribs, my waist, my stomach.
Less controlled than he was, my hands dipped under his shirt to caress his stomach, dragging my nails up over the ridges of muscle to his pecs, my thumbs finding his nipples. I moaned, arching into him, pressing against the arousal tenting his jeans.
Quinn’s kiss deepened in reaction and he gripped my hip, pushing into me harder. I kissed him back with the same greed, and our tongues tangled in deep, wet strokes. Arching into him as my hands moved back from under his shirt to stroke down his arms, I learned the virile strength of him, his hardness to my softness.
Suddenly Quinn grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head on the bed.
That tension inside me coiled tighter as he ground his erection into me, holding me down, so strong, so much bigger than me.
