Skin on skin. Firm touches on slick heat. Slipping into searing intimacy. Gentle, rhythmic, maddening. And not enough. So not enough.
She groaned into his kiss, winding her arms more tightly around his neck, mentally begging him not to stop.
He lifted his mouth from hers again.
‘I’ll drive you back first thing in the morning,’ he promised. ‘You’ll have all day to work if you have to. Stay with me now.’
She shook her head but at the same time rocked her hips—grinding herself against his hand, seeking just a couple more strokes of his fingers.
She wanted to come.
‘Stay. The. Night.’ He punctuated the demand with kisses—starting at her throat then going lower, to her cleavage.
Her bra was too tight. She was too hot. She wanted to be naked.
He swiftly pulled away completely, and she gasped in disappointment. But before she could speak he lifted her skirt to her waist, baring her legs to the heat of the sun—and to his even hotter scrutiny. She squeezed her innermost muscles in instinctive response to his hungry, determined look. Slowly his lashes lifted as he looked from the tops of her thighs to her breasts, to her face.
Holding her gaze in his, he gently fingered the elastic of her panties again. She stopped breathing. He grasped the fabric in his fist and tugged. She arched again, enabling his movement so her panties slid down. He bent to kiss a couple of places on her legs as he pushed her panties right off.
‘I’ve been imagining you like this all day,’ he muttered. ‘Warm and wet and spread wide for me.’
And now she was wetter.
‘Jack…’ She swallowed.
‘Stay the night.’
She shook her head slightly, couldn’t even voice the denial now.
He smiled. It wasn’t a gentle smile.
She shivered, realising just how single-minded he was. His hand skimmed up the inside of her thigh again. Yes. She wanted those fingers back, wanted that rhythm.
But it wasn’t his fingers that touched her this time. Her breathing shortened as he kissed her thighs, slowly working his way up. He stopped just short. And she gasped.
He hooked her legs over his shoulders, slid his hand firmly beneath her, tilting her so she was open to him.
She cried out at the first lick. So abandoned. So lost to the pleasure.
‘Please…’ she said as he paused.
She’d never had any kind of sex like this—not outdoors. Not so intimate. Not within a few hours of meeting a man.
‘You want me to make you sing?’ he asked, his voice like gravel.
‘Make me scream,’ she whispered, closing her eyes against the blinding brilliance of the sinking sun.
She felt him flinch. Felt his hand on her butt tighten.
He bent over her, kissing her. His tongue teased her sensitive spot in wicked circles, then quick flicks. His fingers teased too, tracing a pattern up and down her inner thigh, coming so close to where she wanted him to touch again. To complete her. Making her want him so much that she was arched and clawing at his shoulders.
And it was then that he paused. Once more determination brightened the blue in his eyes.
‘Stay the night. Say yes.’
She realised his plan. He wasn’t going to let her come until she’d answered him.
She gazed down to where he hovered just above her. So focused. So intent on her pleasure. And something within her snapped.
Why shouldn’t she have one night just for her? Just this once? What consequences could there be? How could one night hurt? It wasn’t as if she was going to up and leave for good.
His expression changed and he shifted his hand up her thigh.
Somehow he knew.
‘Stephanie?’ He slid his finger inside her.
‘Yes…’ She sighed in pleasure.
‘You’ll stay the night,’ he said.
No longer a question. No longer needing an answer.
He fixed his mouth to her, drawing that sensitive nub deep into his hot mouth and flicking his tongue.
‘Oh, yes,’ she sobbed, her mind lost as he sucked her into orgasm.
It hit so quickly, so intensely, she screamed. Her hands tightened in his hair, her toes curled, her muscles quivered. The bliss coursing along every nerve-ending was so good she almost couldn’t cope.
So good she never wanted it to end.
But it did. As the spasms ebbed he shifted, still pressing against her, slipping his arms beneath her back to cushion her against the hot metal of the car and waiting while she caught her breath. She could feel him ever so gently rocking against her—enough to keep her arousal near, to keep the aftershocks rippling through her.
So delicious. They were so not done.
‘Finish it,’ she whispered. She wanted to feel him inside her. ‘Please.’
‘Not yet. Not now I have all night,’ he murmured in answer. ‘I want to taste you some more first.’ He kissed her deeply. ‘You taste good.’