“Sorry. I guess I’m a little sensitive right now.”
“I’m not sure how that earns me an apology. Seems like I’m the one with some making up to do.” He lowered his head and kissed one straining nipple. “Sorry,” he said against the stiff peak.
Her hands went slack on his shoulders. “You’re forgiven.”
He kissed the other, and she arched her back in a blatant attempt to encourage him to take her into his mouth. He waited until her fingernails dug into his skin before giving her what she wanted.
His lips closed around her breast, and her hands turned restless, pushing his shirt off his shoulders, and then abandoning the task, half done, in favor of undoing his fly. Seconds later she had his jeans open and his cock threaded through the flap of his briefs while his balls remained trapped behind unforgiving folds of denim. The not-altogether unappealing agony inspired him to take matters into his own hands.
“Hurry,” she urged when he rolled aside. He yanked his shirt off, lifted his hips, and shoved his jeans and underwear down.
He’d barely kicked them off when she slung a leg over his hip and straddled him. His hands automatically settled on her hips to steady her, and his vision went blurry because she leaned forward and shifted her hips until…a groan rumbled over his tight, dry throat as she took him in.
“Jesus, Smith. Are you trying to finish me?”
“Not yet.” Then she looked down at him, smiled slowly, and started to move. Up, down, forward, back, unapologetically grinding her clit against him every time she moved. The quick strokes drove him insane.
“Savannah, you can toy with me like this for approximately five more seconds. Then I’m going to roll you under me and get this done right.”
Her smile only widened, and the glint in her eye turned downright wicked. “Do that, and you miss the chance to watch me do…this.” She skimmed her hands up her thighs, over her stomach, and very, very slowly closed in on her gently swaying breasts. She paused just short of touching them and raised her brows at him.
“Do it.”
“Where are your manners, Montgomery?”
“Please.” The word sounded more like a demand than a request, but apparently she wasn’t inclined to be too exacting about tone. Those devious hands swept up to her breasts, palming them, stroking them, fondling the soft, opulent flesh. She purred deep in her throat as she caressed herself.
He was going to explode, and she damn well knew it. Eyes locked on him, she slid one hand up her throat, over her chin, and slipped her index finger into her mouth. She sucked hard enough to hollow her cheeks and he groaned out loud at the memory of that same luscious mouth sucking on him. With her finger good and wet, she withdrew it and
rubbed some of the moisture against her thumb, and then gave him what he knew to be a deliberately wide-eyed look. It still worked.
“I love the way my nipples feel when they’re hard, but my breasts are so sensitive today, I think a little lubrication is in order. Don’t you?”
“It couldn’t hurt,” he managed. But it could. It could hurt him. Bad.
Her face tipped up toward the ceiling and her hair streamed down her back as she teased her nipple with her wet fingers. “Oooh. That feels good.” She practically hummed the words.
Warning heat started low in his belly.
“How long do you plan to keep torturing me?” The last words came out more like a growl than actual language. The tendrils of heat wrapped around his spine, his balls.
“Oh…I don’t know. At least as long as I spent facedown on the mattress while you had your way with me.”
Yeah, that’s what he figured. The hot tendrils wound tighter. “Too long.”
“Excuse—”
He cut her off by slipping his thumb between her parted lips, because hey, he believed in lubrication, too. After her initial moment of surprise, she swept her tongue over this thumb. He inserted his index finger as well, and let her do the honors. Then he slid them out so quickly her lips made an audible pop, and sneaked his wet fingers between her legs. Another second and he had her clit trapped between his fingers. He squeezed. Her hand curled around his wrist. “Wait—”
But he was out of time, and so was she. The first fluttering waves of her orgasm rippled along his shaft an instant before everything inside him pulled tight. The next thing he knew, he had Savannah under him, her knees bent back to her shoulders, ankles clasped around his neck, calling his name every time he surged into her.
Jesus, he couldn’t get enough of her.
You’ll never get enough of her.
The fatalistic thought circled his brain for a second, but then everything faded except the sensations storming his system with near brutal intensity. They battered him, conquered him, wrung him dry until he collapsed into a shuddering, incoherent heap.
Over the rush of his own pulse in his ears he heard a voice say, “Stay.”