The Best Next Thing

The masculine sound was laden with satisfaction and a little smugness. But she found she didn’t mind it, not when he was violently trembling in her arms, and certainly not when he was so insistently and helplessly thrusting himself against her.

No. She felt more than a little smug herself.

He finally achieved the goal he had been working toward for so long as the tightly anchored bun at the nape of her neck loosened and tumbled. Taking her inhibitions along with it. His towel was gone, fallen to the floor after she had tugged it away. Now he stood, naked and magnificent before her. She shifted her mouth from his to stare at all that glorious nudity…taking a moment to catch her breath and revel in the perfection of his sinewy, beautiful body.

His penis arched and throbbed against his flat belly, and she stared at it in fascination, part of her wanting it desperately, and the other part wanting to flee from him in irrational terror. He hadn’t done a single thing to make her fear him. That was her own baggage weighing down the moment.

His hand slid out from beneath her blouse and he cupped her face, lifting her head until she was looking at him.

“You still okay?” he asked, his voice calm and level…despite his breathlessness.

“What if I’m not?”

“Then you’re not and we stop.”

“I want…I want…” she paused and frowned, not entirely certain what she wanted.

“Tell me. And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you get it.”

Her eyes misted, and she blinked rapidly, determined not to cry. But it was hard not to in the face of such a selfless and sweet comment.

“Can you—”

His eyes were patient as he waited for her to complete the sentence. Because of that patience, and since the face she was staring into was so gorgeous in its stark severity and nothing at all like the monstrously beautiful face she had once so desperately feared, she sucked in a breath and gave him the selfish truth. Because she knew he would not punish her for it.

“Can you make me come? I want an orgasm.”

Despite the trust she had placed in him in that moment, she still braced herself…fearing the worst, expecting the best. And she was rewarded with a rusty chuckle.

“Can I? Sweetheart, next time make it a real challenge.”

She laughed, her relief effervescing through the sound. “Arrogant.”

“Indubitably,” he agreed with a grin and dipped his head to kiss her.

Hard, hot, fast…before he gentled the caress and worshipped her with his mouth and tongue. He led her to the bed, sat, and tugged her down beside him to continue his sensual onslaught. His hands busily unbuttoned her blouse and shoved it aside. The sexy sound of satisfaction he made when he first spotted the delicate lacy bra, sent gooseflesh rippling along her arms.

“Lovely,” he muttered, his mouth dropping to one of the small mounds and planting kisses along the scalloped edge of the bra. His teeth gently closed around the hard, straining bud and he gave her a nip through the lace but closed his hot mouth over the aching peak before she could even register the sting.

Her back arched as she attempted to push herself nearer to him, so close to coming from just this touch that she wasn’t sure how long she would last. He dragged the cup down with his teeth and suckled her again with a hungry groan of pleasure.

Charity’s breath caught and released on a long moan. Her fingers were fisted in his hair as she held him close.

He turned his attention to the other peak, gifting it with the same lavish treatment. She was dimly aware of being shifted to her back while he worked at her breasts. By the time he finally lifted his head, he was cradled between her spread thighs, her blouse was completely undone, and her skirt was hiked up around her hips. His position allowed him to saw the ridge of his erection against her furrow through the damp silk of her panties.

His weight on top of her felt…confining, and while Charity fought to stay in the moment, she began to feel claustrophobic. Her quickening breath had nothing to do with the desire she had relished moments before and everything to do with how trapped she now felt.

He lifted his head from her breasts with a smile, and his eyes darkened when he appeared to recognize that she was no longer enjoying herself.

“Not a fan of missionary, I take it,” he muttered, his voice cracking as he attempted to regulate his breathing. Before she could respond, or descend into a full-fledged panic attack. Before she could so much as blink…he reversed their positions until she was straddling him with her breasts spilling over the top of her bra and into his waiting hands. Her mound was now resting on top of his big, bold cock.