He gently bent and kissed her neck, his chuckle muffled against her skin. “You think I didn’t know that?”
“Smart Alec.” She mock swiped him, but at the last minute softened her blow to caress his cheek. But then she added seriously. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
He pulled her close so she could feel exactly how aroused he was. “There’s no way you’d ever disappoint. Honestly? It’s been a while for me too.”
“Now you’re the one telling tall tales,” she chided.
“I’m not,” he answered seriously. “I’ve been very busy at work.”
She gazed up at him, reading the hot sincerity in his eyes. And she smiled.
She stepped back, undoing her jeans and shimmying them down—along with her knickers. She didn’t want to be shy. She didn’t want to waste a second with silly worries. She wanted to indulge, to revel and celebrate this only time she had him.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, sounding like he’d suddenly come down with laryngitis.
“I want to see you naked.” She’d been imagining it for days.
He whipped his T-shirt over his head. She stared. Oh man, her imagination was officially useless—he was way more incredible than she’d dreamed. Her legs turned to goo. She sat on the bed, watching as he swiftly discarded his jeans and boxers. He was so fine, so built, with a dusting of hair arrowing to his literally outstanding hard-on, and not an ounce of fat anywhere. All muscled male.
All mine.
Libby’s blood flowed like quicksilver, spirited and fast along her veins. It pooled in her lower belly—the nucleus of her need and where she needed him to be.
“You have an amazing body,” she said in frank awe. She’d never seen anyone so sculpted. And she went to the gym, she saw fit frequently. She swallowed—with difficulty. Because he was broad too—broad shouldered, big-muscled, endowed. His palms spread wide over her narrow shoulders, making her feel very feminine. She moved her fingers in feline fashion over him, skimming a nail over his defined abs, tracing the taut grooves of muscle beneath skin.
He drew in a deep shuddering breath.
Eyes wide, she looked up at him as she swept her hands lower still. “You okay?”
“You’re very good,” he murmured huskily, pressing his hot body against her hands.
“Flatterer.” She shook her head. “It’s just that I want you like crazy.”
And it was abundantly clear he wanted her as much.
“Thank goodness,” His fingertips traced her collarbones. “You’ve been killing me these last couple of days.”
“You’ll have relief soon enough,” she sent him a gleaming look beneath her lashes. “And we’ll both feel better.”
She glided her hands over his muscled arms. He let her take her exploration slow—seated in front of him, drinking in his physical beauty.
“Did you row too?” she asked, lifting her hands to sweep them across his ridged abs and up to his broad chest.
He nodded.
“Not lightweight division.” She moved her sweeping circles lower again. Her temperature sizzled.
He smiled and shook his head.
“And you obviously use all those torture machines in the living room.” He was majestic—so built.
“Uh huh.” He gently ran his fingers underneath her chin, stroking the vulnerable skin down her neck.
She tilted her head to give him more freedom. She’d not known how sensual such a simple touch could be—especially from such a big guy. “You’re the one who’s good,” she sucked in a breath.
His hands lowered, cupping her breasts and gently pushing them together. “Not that good.”
“Prove it,” she whispered.
He moved, pulled open a drawer from the low bedside cabinet, rummaging for protection. She laughed as he struggled to get the box free of its plastic wrapper—secretly thrilled to see his haste.
He glanced at her. “Oh sure, you go ahead and relax while you still can.”
“What are you implying?”
“That in about a minute,” he paused as he tore the foil with his teeth. “You’re going to be wound tighter than a gymnast’s leotard.”
He rolled on the rubber with a grimace and stood, feet planted wide on the floor in front of where she still sat on his bed.
“Is this what you wanted?” He asked, a wicked look in his eye.
“It’s the first item ticked off, yes.” Seeing him naked had been even more thrilling than she’d imagined. Would everything else surpass her fantasy too? She was certain of it.
“And the next?”
There was really only one other thing she could think of now. She told him. Two words—raunchy, crude and blunt in their meaning.
He laughed as he stepped closer, bending to tease. “Going to do more than that.”
“No, just do that now.” Now, now, now. She didn’t need foreplay, she was ready. She wanted him inside her—that huge, powerful body driving in her, rapid and relentless until she went mad.
He put a fist either side of her and leaned forward. Instinctively she lay back, wriggling on the soft coverings, encouraging him to lie right over her—to mount her now.
But he remained just out of reach, too far away. “You’re going to come first.”
Why? She was almost there now and she suspected the second he entered her she’d lose it. “What about you?”
“It’s inevitable,” he laughed, lifting a hand from the bed and sweeping firmly down her thigh. “I need to be sure you’re taken care of because this first time may not be as sustained as I’d like.”
“No?” Her body rippled beneath that one stroke, her nipples tightening to the point of pain. “I thought you rowers were good with endurance.”
“Eighty-odd hours of anticipation,” he said. “I’m like a loosened Champagne cork, embarrassingly ready to fire.” He drew a deep breath as he slowly looked down her length. His muscles visibly clenched. But then he smiled. “Will you let me go down on you?” he asked oh so politely.
“Um...” She lifted her hand and pretended to study her nails. “I guess that would be okay.”
He chuckled and rewarded her by leaning closer and kissing her mouth—letting her know exactly what he was going to do to the rest of her. She moaned as that one kiss sucked her under his spell again. His mouth was the sexiest thing. She curled both hands into his hair—holding him close, arching upwards to get closer to his heat. No, she didn’t need the oral sex actually, she just needed him. She pushed her legs wider, wanting him to thrust between them. She wanted everything now.
He put his hands under her arms, literally hauling her into position in the middle of the bed—all while still kissing her. So the guy could be bossy but with one hell of a sweetener. He reached above her, grabbed a couple of pillows and lifted her hips to shove them beneath her. Now her hips were raised, while her torso stretched back, leaving her so exposed to him.
“You like your women on a platter?” she teased. But she was amazed at how unselfconscious she felt. The way he looked at her, like she was the most beautiful thing, like he’d never wanted anything as much, made her feel so treasured. So sexy. And, this once, she was going with it.
“Maximizing pleasure,” he replied, running his palm over her stomach, his gaze sweeping over the bared secrets of her body.
Just that one stroke sent flickers of fire along her nerve endings. She arched uncontrollably, thrusting her breasts up, wanting his mouth nearer, everywhere.
Okay so she did want the oral sex. She did want that tongue everywhere.
He kissed and nibbled his way down her neck, over her chest to one breast, then the other. His fingers subtly teased in tandem with his lips, igniting every inch of her skin—below her belly button, then lower still.
For a big guy, he had
a delicate—tormenting—touch. The man’s tongue teased, flicking light and quick across her entrance. His fingers strummed her—faster, faster still. But he didn’t penetrate her. Desperate for that, she groaned. Her hips pumped as he lapped. Her groan became words—blatant, hot demands. She spread her arms wide on the bed beneath her, fingers extended as the tension within her burned intolerably. He moved, lying across her thighs to stop her from curling them around him and pulling him in. His greater weight and strength rendered her captive, yet he was tender. Tender. But wicked.
His attentions consumed her. With one hand he rubbed her, still deliciously but maddeningly licking. His other hand swept up the side of her body—cupping her breast, rubbing her nipple, sending shivers of delight back to her belly and outwards again—to her scalp and her toes and every bit in between. He took her soft flesh in his hand, owning her until she was begging for more, begging him not to stop. Spread-eagled—rigid—beneath him she cried out, her head thrashing as she neared the peak. A second of silence and then she screamed as sensation slammed, hitting her in entirety. She shuddered, convulsing. As the spasms of intense pleasure wracked her, she instinctively tried to wrench back from his continued caresses. But his strength was too great—she panted, fast and short as he kept up his quick, relentless touches. Her eyes widened, she stared at him for one moment of heightened clarity before her head fell back on the bed, her eyes closing as she rode the crest into another orgasm even more overpowering than the first.
“You okay?” Minutes later he asked, breaking through the sound of her still-rapid breathing.
“More than okay.” She slowly opened her eyes.
He was on all fours above her, his arms either side of her head, his eyes warm, his smile pleased. “You’re amazing.”
“Lucky.” She tentatively tried to flex, her body one warm mass of luscious languor. “Thank you.” She looked down his tight body and saw the fast rise and fall of his chest, the sharpness in his eyes. “I feel bad for you though.”
“I’ll get my turn.”
“Now,” she reached up, winding her arms round his neck and drawing him close for a kiss. She flicked her tongue into his hot mouth—mimicking the lush strokes he’d just tormented her with.