Along Came Trouble (Camelot 2)

Caleb moved back a few inches and appraised her, lightly running his fingers down the center of her stomach, then over to the sides and back up. He met her eyes. “You have no idea how hot you are.”

It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t have to say anything. Which was good, because she couldn’t imagine what to say. Thank you for that very kind, very flattering lie?

He planted his hands on either side of her face and gazed down at her, serious and devastatingly handsome. “When was the last time someone made you feel sexy, Ellen?”

“Ah …” Nothing came to mind. Certainly, no one had ever made her feel the way he was making her feel right now, with his hot, hungry eyes focusing all his attention on her. “It’s been a while.”

His eyes narrowed, and she wondered idly whether he’d been a sniper. The man had a way

of putting you in his sights. “How long’s a while?”

She didn’t answer him, so he kissed her. He kissed her lips, her throat, her stomach. He kissed the palm of her hand. She got a little floaty and delirious with the pleasure of it and forgot they were having a conversation, so it came as a surprise when he asked her again. “How long’s a while?”

“Years,” she whispered. “Three years. Thirty years. A while.”

He nestled his head against her stomach and breathed into her belly button. “That’s a shame, sweetheart. A body like this deserves to be worshipped. Someone should be making you feel sexy every single day.” He glanced up her, smiling wickedly. “I know a good man for the job.”

Kissing his way up to her breasts, he made short work of what remained of her inhibitions with his tongue and his hands and his stubble rasping over her nipples. Could you come this way, just from having a man ravish your breasts? She had never thought so before, but Caleb was making her revisit some of her assumptions. Such as the assumption she’d ever had sex before. It was starting to seem possible she’d only been playing at it.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured. “Soft and warm and welcoming. The perfect woman.”

“You’re thinking of kittens,” she said, and then gasped when he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

“What?” He did something wonderful with his tongue that made her hips lift a foot off the bed.

It took her a moment to gather up her stray thoughts and say, in an absurdly low and raspy voice, “Kittens are soft. Women are supposed to be thin and toned, with tight little butts and zeppelin boobs. Don’t you ever read magazines?”

He scooted up to look in her eyes, catching her hands and pulling them over her head. The entire hard, long, sexy length of him pressed her into the bed.

“I promise you, I’m not thinking about kittens,” he said, sliding one hand down the inside of her outstretched arm from her shoulder to her hip. “I’m thinking about how bad I want to be inside you. How hot and wet and tight and soft you’re going to be. I’m thinking about how many times I can make you come before morning, and all the different ways.”

“Oh.” Her thoughts had run away. Oh was the only word she had left.

“I don’t want some scrawny little magazine chick, Ellen. I want you. But you know, I’ve never been much good with words. I’m more of an action guy. So what I’m going to do is show you.”

Oh. He started moving back down her body, tucking his hands beneath her and sliding them downward until they came to rest under her butt. He had such big, capable hands. She really couldn’t get over it. Her entire butt fit in his hands. And my, his broad shoulders did a nice job of spreading her legs apart. My oh my.

“How long since somebody did this for you?” he asked, planting a kiss high up on her inner thigh.

An eternity. “A while.”

“Good.” His lips curved into a very satisfied, very cocky smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

But once he got started, it rapidly became clear that no one had ever done this for her. Not like Caleb did it. When his tongue stroked over the single most sensitive spot on her body the first time, she thought she might pass out from the hot shock of it. She nearly asked him to stop, because her nerve endings were exposed and humming with need, and she understood suddenly that he would be merciless. The question of whether one could have too much of a good thing was not, in the case of Caleb, purely abstract.

It seemed unlikely she would survive.

His tongue swirled around her clit again and again, the pressure varying and keeping her off balance, swimming in sensation just this side of unbearable. A tingling pull built steadily between her legs and forced her to raise her hips toward him, to beg with her body for more, more, more. He seduced her with his tongue and his lips and even, she thought, his teeth, and she kept bringing her knees up so she could dig her heels into the bed, but they just slid down the sheet. She couldn’t find any purchase anywhere.

And then he moved two fingers inside her and located some secret spot she’d never known was there, and he held her hip in place with one big hand while she tried to squirm away from the arrival of the orgasm he’d detonated.

There was no escaping it. The pleasure hit her in one blast wave after another, forcing her surrender. Tightening her muscles and wringing them out until she relaxed into the mattress, limp as a wet rag.

And happy. So happy.

She honestly couldn’t remember when she’d ever felt this good, as if all of the burden she’d been carrying around had lifted and she could breathe and look about, rolling her liberated shoulders and bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet to test what freedom felt like.

She was giddy with it. One orgasm, and he’d made her giddy.