But she isn’t laughing as she drags her hands down my bare chest to my stomach.
“Wow,” she breathes. “I’ve been fantasizing about this since you carried me up Cris’s driveway. I knew you had to be built like nobody’s business. Even with two casts on, you made me feel like I was made of fluff.”
“You’re tiny,” I say, biting my lip as her nails bite into my abs hard enough to sting.
“Not that tiny. And I’m tall,” she murmurs, glancing up as I hiss in a breath, my muscles flexing beneath her touch. “You like nails?”
“Love them,” I grit out, my cock throbbing even more insistently.
She grins up at me and does it again, harder. I reach down, jerking her good leg up and around my hip as I grind forward, showing her what she does to me. The sound she makes as I rockagainst her center—hungry and eager—makes my blood pump even faster.
I push her sweater up.
My turn to discover all the partsI’vebeen fantasizing about …
The skin on her stomach is so soft, it’s almost shocking. Like feathers. Or one of those microfleece blankets the girls love to snuggle under on movie nights, but warm and fluttering beneath my hand.
I skim my palm up her ribs, making her shiver as I murmur, “Best thing I’ve ever touched.”
“Ever?” she breathes, arching to help me guide the fabric higher.
“Ever,” I confirm. I push the sweater past her collarbone, revealing the beautiful valley I’ve done my best to keep from staring at all night.
Her breasts are full and high, encased in a white cotton bra with a tiny yellow bow between the cups. No, not a bow, I realize, as I look closer. It’s a skull and crossbones that feels…strangely right.
X marks the spot where the treasure’s buried, after all.
And every inch of her is treasure.
I guide the cups down, heart lurching at the sight of her deep rose nipples, so much darker than the rest of her skin. The contrast is so beautiful, so sexy. Nearly as sexy as the sounds she makes as I slide lower in the seat, pulling her nipple into my mouth.
The first taste of her makes me groan, and my fingers spasm against her ribs. She’s clean and salty-sweet, her skin somehow even softer against my tongue than my hands. My eyes close as I tease my tongue around her tight tip, my head spinning with the bliss of it. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman, but even longer since I’ve experienced chemistry like this, the kindthat sparks to life at first sight and gets hotter with every passing second.
And things are definitely getting hotter…
I suck her nipple, and her nails dig into my scalp, sending a jolt down my spine to fist between my legs. I suck harder; she digs harder, her back arching off the seat as I trap her other nipple between my teeth.
“Yes, oh yes,” she gasps, clinging to me as I continue to tease and suck and bite.
I’ve always been good at this part. Decoding unspoken signals. Reading a breath, a sigh, a gasp. Knowing when to go harder and when to back off.
Sex is a lot like hockey. If you pay attention and learn to read the signs, your opponent will telegraph everything you need to keep him from whipping the puck into your net without saying a word.
But Clover isn’t my opponent, she’s completely on my team, a fact she proves with another panted, “Yes, yes, yes,” as I shift to one side, giving myself room to tease my fingertips beneath the waistband of her jeans.
I pop the button one-handed and drag the zipper down. She lifts her hips, giving me room to maneuver. My fingers slide over more hot, whisper-soft skin, through crisp hair, into swollen folds so drenched it punches the breath out of me.
She’s wet, ready, and just the thought of being inside her is almost enough to make me come in my pants like a teenager.
So, I do my bestnotto think about that as I glide two fingers between her legs.
She clenches around me, her hips jerking and a broken sound hitching from her chest as she reaches for my biceps, holding on tight as I fuck her with my hand.
I start slow—pushing in deep and drawing out with curled fingers, being sure to give her clit the attention it deserves—but soon, she’s squirming beneath me, her breath coming faster, silently demanding more. So, I give her what she wants, what she needs, until she’s whimpering and trembling, and I’m so hard that every shift of my hips against the seat is painful.
But I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except the way she’s unraveling under me, her eyes shut, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her chest heaving as she nears the edge.
I kiss her temple and linger there, feeling the throb of her pulse against my lips as I pump her harder, faster.
