He took a moment to process the admission then turned to the mirror and zoomed in on her desire-flushed face. A similar flush rose to his cheekbones. He swallowed and nodded. “All situated now?”
“Uh-huh.” She tucked both hands under the pillow to convince him.
He trailed all ten fingers down her sides, and around, stopping when his hands cupped her ass. “Then let’s get started.” With that, he flicked one thumb between her legs, just deep enough to graze her now aching pussy. Before she could catch her breath, he followed the teasing caress with his other thumb. Her hands tightened to fists beneath the pillow.
Intent eyes locked with hers in the mirror. “More?”
Yes please, yes please, yes please! The only reply she could produce was a pitchy moan, but he took it for the affirmation she intended and proceeded to repeat the maneuver, over and over, delivering a steady strum of attention until each touch elicited a wet sound to accompany her moans. She lifted her hips higher, anxious for the sweet relief of those nimble thumbs hitting the target with the kind of furious precision a boxer reserved for the speed bag.
Eyes still on hers, he lowered his head, turned at the final second, and dropped an open-mouthed kiss to the point of her hip. “So demanding,” he murmured and ran his scratchy jaw over the vulnerable skin, leaving a strangely satisfying burn in its wake. At the same time, his hands slid away.
Bereft, she let out a small wail.
“Shhh. Keep your head on the pillow.” He waited while she obeyed and then curled his hand behind her knee and pushed it up toward her shoulder. He followed suit with her other leg, exposing her neediest parts to his dark gaze.
“Are you craving a cigarette now, Reckless?”
It took a moment to find her tongue and another to get it to work. “What? Jesus. No.”
“Because although my dick will fall off, I’ll give you a smoke break if you need one.”
“West!”
His lips twisted into a satisfied smile she shouldn’t have found so diabolically attractive. Braced on his bent forearm, he lowered his head. Wide shoulders flexed. Lean back muscles lengthened. She watched in the mirror, transfixed, as his profile disappeared between her legs. Gentle lips closed over her clit at the same time one long, leisurely finger slid inside her. Time snapped then spun away. The next moments passed in a desperate haze. An exquisite agony of quick lips and tongue whipping her clit into an unbearably receptive instrument of torture, and that slow, heavy finger stroking her into a constant, shivering thrall.
Sweat stung her eyes, but she kept them open and fixed on the sight of him feasting on her like he’d never get enough. “West,” she panted then caught her breath and panted his name again, even though she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find sufficient voice to tell him how close she was. He’d taken her to the razor’s edge of an orgasm—one that promised a fast, sharp sting of pleasure wrung from nerve endings denied the decadent heat, the crucial friction, and glorious fullness of a body-to-body fucking. Even now, the tight, coiled pressure deep in the untouched core of her being sent out a warning tremble, unloosing stingy ripples that tormented rather than relieved. “West…please. I need you.”
Miraculously, he understood. He reared up and covered her. Corded arms braced on either side of her head, keeping the bulk of his weight off her while his hot, thick cock nudged into the gap between her thighs.
“I need you, too, Roxy.” His words were a warm caress along the side of her neck. “But slow. Slooowww.” He sank into her, so slowly and carefully she blinked back tears at the perfect fullness he provided. “Ah. Christ. And easy. Easy,” he repeated when she rocked her hips in a completely instinctive urge to take more.
He moved, too, interrupting her effort with a long, luxurious thrust. Just like that, the orgasm building inside her blossomed from an immature bud to an opulent burst of color, texture, and beauty in endless velvety layers. The sensations unfurled and expanded in dizzying cycles, so intense she closed her eyes and cried out in the kind of relief she’d never found in a pill, or a drink, or a cigarette. The kind of relief she’d never found anywhere except with West.
…
“I dare say someone’s spent quality time in bed over the last forty-eight hours.”
Roxy shifted on the paper-draped table and tried to give Ellie an innocent look. “Just following doctor’s orders.”
Ellie nodded. “Good.” She gently felt the bump on Roxy’s head. “The swelling has gone down nicely and the bruising is minimal. Any sharp pain or dizziness?”
“Nope.”
“How about episodes of lightheadedness or fireworks shows behind your eyes?”
“Um…not from the knock on my head, no.”
Ellie drew back, her eyes serious as they scanned Roxy’s. But Melody’s laugh carried all the way from the front office, where she served as Ellie’s practice manager. “Just following doctor’s orders, eh?”
“I got plenty of bed rest,” she defended when Ellie’s pretty mouth turned down in a little frown.
Melody’s footsteps clicked down the hall, and she popped her head in the door. “Did you make poor West do all the work?” Her placid Miss Bluelick smile didn’t conceal the humor dancing in her lake-blue eyes.
Roxy shrugged. “The man has a stubborn streak. He wouldn’t let me lift a finger.”
“Oh, I hate when that happens,” Melody sympathized, grinning wickedly. “Did he, ahem, attend to your every need?”
“He did.” She reached her arms over her head and stretched her very content body, enjoying the musical shower of her bracelets sliding from wrist to elbow before letting her hands drop back to her lap. “He attended to needs I didn’t even know I had.”