Throb (Life on Stage 1) - Page 30

“You’re so tight,” he groans. “Jesus, Kate.” He works me slowly, my wetness allowing him to glide in and out. Feeling my body surrender, he pulls almost all the way out and pushes back in with two fingers. A few pumps and my body greedily accepts him, my back arching off the bed as I climb closer to release.

Covering my clit with his thumb, he growls when I let out a shameless moan of pleasure. His eyes flare with desire and our gazes lock. It takes all of my willpower not to close my eyes as blissful waves of orgasm roll over me. My hips writhe to meet each wave, riding the rollercoaster from explosion to euphoria.

Cooper’s hoarse voice mumbles something, but the words are incoherent over the sound of my heart beating wildly. What remains of my clothes are rapidly discarded, and it isn’t until I feel him hauling me down the bed that I’m even aware of what he’s doing.

Dropping to his knees, my ass hovering at the foot of the bed, he parts my shaky legs and his mouth is on me before I can object. A futile attempt to push him away is short lived when his tongue flutters over my clit. Jesus. The man has me on the edge again within thirty seconds.

Abandoning my efforts to stop him in favor of raveling my fingers through his hair and pulling him closer as he laps at me hungrily, I yield to his skilled mouth. My body trembles as his tongue dips inside me, luring an unabashed moan as my second orgasm threatens quickly. His hands push my thighs wider, his mouth licking and sucking, his tongue lashing furiously over my swollen clit until I explode again, this time gasping his name.

I think I may have lost a few moments in time, somewhere between orgasm number two and his repositioning me in the center of his heavenly king-sized bed. But then the lush green eyes filled with golden sunflowers are staring down at me, his rigid cock throbbing near my tender opening.

“Reach up,” he says in a firm, yet strained, voice.

My heavily hooded eyes must display my confusion.

“Hold the headboard with both hands.”

“But …”

“Do it, Kate.”

I lift my arms, reaching over my head for the iron headboard. It’s cold, but I wrap my heated palms around the rounded metal and squeeze tight.

Cooper raises his head slightly, admiring the full view—me, underneath him, looking glazed and vulnerable.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs in my ear. “Don’t let go.”

I nod, unable to form words, his warm breath spreading heat throughout my body. He licks the shell of my ear, and then his tongue travels down my neck, making its way to my taut nipple. He sucks hard, then bites, his teeth not releasing me until I whimper. Then he lavishes sweet kisses on the swollen buds he just assaulted, making them more than better.

He spends time worshiping my body, the length of him frequently rubbing up against me, teasing me mercilessly. Even after two energy-draining orgasms, he’s able to work me back into a frenzy. Eventually I can’t take it anymore and I reach down, desperate to feel his thick, hard erection.

“Back on the headboard,” he growls, stopping me before I’m able to touch.

“But I want—”

“Don’t let go again,” he warns, cutting me off and ignoring my plea.

Seriously? I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of him. Every ridge of his ridiculously toned body is calling my name. His cock taunting me the loudest.

“I don’t think I can.”

My honesty is rewarded with a wicked grin. His already massive ego just shot up another stratosphere. One hand deftly rolls on a condom. Knowing my eyes are fixed on the way his fingers curl around his thickness, his hand lingers, stroking himself up and down leisurely. “Tell me what you need. I’ll give it to you.”

“I want to touch you.”

“What do you want to touch, Kate?”

I’m laying spread-eagled beneath this man, yet I feel bashful saying the words. “You know.” My face flushes.

“Why, Kate.” His mouth is back at my ear, his hand working my breasts, kneading my sensitive nipple. Every tweak sends pleasure shooting through my nerves. I even feel it down in my toes. “Does my sharp-tongued woman not like to say naughty words?”

“You’re trying to torture me.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You.” I buck underneath him.

“Say it. Say what you want. What you were reaching for.”

He surprises me by pushing two fingers back inside me. My body clenches down, tightening around them. “Is this what you want? You want my fingers inside of you?” He strokes in and out, rubbing me close, but it doesn’t satisfy the need I have. I need more.

I shake my head.

“Then tell me,” he croons, his fingers pumping in and out faster.

“Please,” I moan.

“Please what?” He sucks on the sensitive flesh beneath my ear.

“You know,” I groan, breathless from his expert touch.

“Say it.” His strained, throaty voice quivers at my ear. I’d pretty much say or do anything to get him to give me what I need.

“Your cock. Please. I want your cock inside of me.”

A flash of virile male satisfaction crosses his face, but a shadow shudders over the ego, turning to a possessive darkness. His jaw clenches tight and he takes one of my hands white-knuckling the headboard above me and brings it to his mouth. Gently, he kisses my hand, then replaces it on the headboard to grab hold.

I gasp loudly when he rams deep inside of me, giving me what I desperately need. “Oh, god,” I pant, my body convulsing at the rock-hard intrusion. He’s so thick, it’s almost a struggle to accommodate his girth. If I wasn’t primed sodden, taking him in so deep might fall on the other side of the slim wall that separates pain and pleasure.

Tags: Vi Keeland Life on Stage Romance
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