Tempting Grace (Vaughn)

“Is that all?” she managed between pants.

“The length of your neck. You have a regal bearing, and your neck just begs to be kissed and nibbled.”

He proceeded to prove his point by angling his head and teasing the side of her neck with his lips. He slid her wet hair out of the way and skimmed his tongue up and down her flesh, directly over her vein. He bit down and her pussy pulsed and swelled with need. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, fingernails biting into flesh and muscle. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the moment. His mouth drifted lower, sliding over the tops of her breasts. When he kissed each nipple with tender affection, her legs shook with anticipation.

“The bellhop eyed your sweet tits like a mocha latte. Pissed me off,” he gritted out. “But I have to admit, the kid has a good eye. You do look delicious, baby.”

He cupped her left breast, brought it to his lips and sucked as much flesh as he could into his warm mouth. His tongue teased, his teeth grazed. She arched against him, mashing her other sensitive peak against his stubbled cheek. He cupped her right breast, flicked his thumb over the hard bud. Arrows of pleasure shot clear to her core. She hungered to make love to him. To feel him sinking deep inside her heat where she needed him so badly. The ache built and built until she whimpered and begged, shameless in her desire.

Merrick released her breast and pulled back. He stared up at her with such intensity her body vibrated as if stroked.

“Soon, baby, real soon, I promise. First, I need a taste. I’ve lived too long without your honey sliding over my tongue. I need to suck that tempting little pussy of mine.”

She was beyond denying either of them. “Oh, God, yes.”

Merrick’s hungry grin had her nerve endings rioting out of control. He slid sl

owly to his knees, his gaze holding her immobile. The hot spray from the shower pelted them both. Merrick’s body glistened, his muscles even more pronounced than before, his dark hair slicked back away from the harsh planes of his face.

Her husband. Her lover. Her everything.

Chloe became aware of the glaring truth in that moment. No matter what happened, her body would always be his to command, her heart his to hold.

He nudged her legs wider and clutched onto her thighs. Chloe sucked in a breath, knowing the pleasure only he could coax forth.

As his gaze snagged hers and held, she rested her palms on his shoulders and waited for that first delicious touch. He prolonged the moment and time seemed to stand still. Even in such a submissive position, Merrick still held power like none other. As he leaned forward and kissed her clit, they both groaned.

“No one will ever take you from me.”

She wanted to protest, to let him know she had a mind of her own and would do what she had to do to keep her sanity, but his lips rubbing back and forth over her labia stopped her assertions. She couldn’t think, couldn’t grab onto a single skittering thought. She stopped trying to think and concentrated on feeling.

Merrick used his mouth with an expert’s skill. His tongue dipped inside her heat, swirled around and came back out again.

“Fucking delicious,” he murmured.

He sat back and removed his hands from her thighs, then used his thumbs to open her. His eyes on her there always made her hyper-aware of her femininity. Merrick always seemed to take such pleasure in looking at her intimate flesh before he took a taste, as if enthralled by the shape and texture of her body.

“Why do you do that?”

He licked his lips and smiled. “Do what?”

Chloe’s cheeks filled with heat. She hadn’t meant to ask. “You always look at me there,” she explained. “It makes me nervous.”

“Because you’re beautiful,” he admitted, his tone rough with arousal. “Every inch is beauty to me. God is surely an artist because you, my pretty wife, are a work of art.”

Chloe’s heart swelled. His words made perfect sense because she felt the same about him.

As his head descended on her, she clutched more tightly onto his wide shoulders. She knew what to expect and she craved it. His hot breath touched her first. She moaned aloud, and he blew a draft of air over her clitoris. She widened her stance, which gave him better access. She thought she might’ve pleaded a little, but she couldn’t be certain. His tongue touched, ignited a fire inside that had burned white-hot for months.

He flicked over her swollen nether lips several times then sucked her clit into his mouth. She went wild, bucking against his face, aching so badly for his touch, his burning touch. He doubled his assault on her body and slid his middle finger deep inside her tight sheath. Her inner muscles squeezed him tight, as if loath to let him go. He growled. The deep timbre of his voice traveled over her clit and went straight to her womb. He lifted away, slid a second finger inside her pussy and pushed her to the very limit of control.

“Come for me. Let me feel you go up in flames, Chloe.”

She’ll make him finish what he started—if they live through the night.

Alaskan Heat

© 2009 Pam Champagne