The Charmer (Harbor City 2)

Despite shredding her panties, he didn’t start between her legs—or maybe it was because he’d torn them. The sexy bastard did love to torment her. Instead, it was her neck his mouth went to first—teasing kisses as his hands made quick work of her bra. Then, he took her nipples and rolled them to stiff peaks while trailing his mouth across her sensitive skin. He didn’t have to tell her to close her eyes. It was impossible to keep them open. It felt too good. He felt too good, like they were meant to be like this and that the flirting and lessons and everything else had just been a way for the universe to get them here.

Jesus, girl, pull yourself together. You’re a scientist not an English major.

That voice in her head didn’t matter, though, not when he drew one of her nipples into his talented mouth and sucked. The rest of the world didn’t matter. It was just them. The way it should be, and deep inside she knew it with a certainty that equaled her belief in the value of the scientific method. Electricity zipped across her skin, hot sensation that ricocheted through her until she thought she’d break—and that’s when he moved lower, gliding his tongue over her stomach before taking a left to her hipbone.

She nearly screamed in frustration. “Hudson, please.”

“What is it you want, Matches?” She could feel his grin against her hip.

“Your mouth on me.”

“It is.”

“Lick me. Suck my clit. Make me come.”

“Greedy, aren’t you?”

“You’re just jealous that you only get to come once tonight.”

“I don’t know what kind of men you’ve been with, Matches, but they sure as hell weren’t me,” he said, his voice as cocky as a frat boy at a kegger. “I’m gonna expect a full-fledged mea culpa when I prove you wrong.”

Finally, he dipped his head between her legs, moving his hands underneath her ass to lift her up higher. His tongue lapped at her clit in feather soft touches so light that it was absurd the heightened effect they had on her. Up and around he went, taking her so close only to pull back and start all over again. She bucked against his mouth, her hands seeking out his hair, and pushed herself more firmly against him. This is what she wanted. To have him everywhere. All at once. It was almost more than she could take. Then, he slid one hand off her ass and brought it between her legs, thrusting two fingers inside her and scissoring them so they stretched her entrance at the same time as the tips brushed against her G-spot.

“Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”

Thank God, he didn’t. Hudson moved inside her with those magic fingers and changed the pace and pressure of his tongue on her clit. Harder. Faster. More intense. The sensations built until her orgasm crashed against her, washing away everything but the two of them.

…

Hudson loved the taste of her on his tongue almost as much as he loved being buried inside her or seeing her smile or hearing her talk about honeypot ants. Watching as her muscles relaxed after that orgasm, the hooded look in her eyes, he realized that he was in trouble—and had been since that first moment he’d seen her at the museum fundraiser—but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit. All that mattered was that she was there, naked and spread on out the kitchen island, and he needed to be inside her as much as she wanted him to be there. He grabbed his jeans, pulled his wallet out from the back pocket, and took out a condom.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said as he rolled the condom over his straining cock.

Her lust-hazy gaze never went higher than his waist. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, and he nearly lost it before he’d even started. “I’m not gonna last long.”

“That’s okay, I heard you come back for seconds.”

“With you? I don’t think there’s a limit.” He grabbed her hips and flipped her over so her tits were pressed against the island. “Hold on.”

Unable to wait another second, he plunged inside her slick, tight core. He nearly went blind. So good. So fucking good. Tight. She was so fucking tight around him, the perfect fit. The last blood cells powering his brain fled south where all the fun was going on, and he switched into primal mode. He gripped her hips, lifting her and slamming her back down against him, hard and fast. The absolute rightness of it swept through him. Felicia might not be his, no matter how much he wished she was, but she was his for right now, and he was going to make sure she knew it.

“Oh my God, Hudson.” She pushed back against him. “Yes. Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

“You want it hard?” he asked, dancing on the fine line of losing control.

“Please,” she cried out.

Then that’s just what she’d get. He plowed into her, hard and fast, just like they both wanted. Over and over again until the buzzing at the base of his spine grew with each stroke and he couldn’t take it anymore. Back and forth, he rocked his hips, slamming into her as she pushed back against him, mee

ting him thrust for thrust, bordering on desperate, their bodies crashing together until she tossed her head back and came, screaming his name.

That’s all it took. His balls tightened, and he pushed forward, his orgasm spilling into her harder than he’d ever come before.

It took everything he had not to collapse onto the floor in a puddle of satisfied male, but he couldn’t do that to her. After disposing of the condom, he gathered Felicia up in his arms, picked up the lantern, and strode to his bedroom upstairs. She needed a bed and he needed to keep her close—at least for tonight. He’d deal with tomorrow in the morning; tonight she was his.

Chapter Sixteen