“Stop thinking about it,” he instructed firmly. “And stay right here in this moment with me.”
“Spencer,” she whispered helplessly.
“Right here, with me,” he maintained. “Daff. Look at me. I’ll make it worth your while.”
She lifted her eyes to his, and he grinned.
“Keep looking,” he coaxed and then rewarded her by unfastening the top button of his shirt and dragging it over his head. He tossed the shirt aside and she nearly sighed at the familiar sight of his gorgeous chest. She reached up to touch all that smooth, firm flesh and was delighted when his muscles bunched and jumped beneath her fluttering touch.
“Oh God, Spencer. You’re magnificent,” she said in awe, and his grin widened. She lifted her head and started trailing her lips over his warm, smooth, and slightly salty skin. Her mouth found his taut nipples and began to voraciously lick and suck the sensitive flesh.
“You’re just so—” The rest of whatever he was saying was muffled against her neck, which he kissed and sucked before he found his way back to the lure of her mouth.
He dragged his head up to peer down to her pouting breasts in unabashed hunger. They were both topless now, Daff in her panties and Spencer in his jeans. He reached down reverently to cup her breasts with both hands, testing their weight in his palms, his thumbs finding and teasing her nipples again. He stalled there, spending so much time on her nipples, Daff found herself uncomfortably overstimulated, dizzy and disoriented. He had to stop—he was literally driving her insane with pleasure.
“Spencer,” she pleaded. “I can’t stand it anymore. Please.”
“Hmm.” His mouth clamped over a nipple, the suction bordering on painful, and his hand burrowed beneath her panties, where his thumb stroked her clit while his middle and index fingers buried themselves inside her tight, wet sheath. She shuddered and screamed as she came almost immediately. He continued suckling on her nipple while his free hand stroked the other, prolonging and intensifying her powerful orgasm. She screwed her eyes tightly shut and fought for breath. Her complete focus was on the pleasure he was giving her.
When she finally stopped clenching around his fingers, she melted onto the bed in a boneless, exhausted, sweaty heap of satisfaction. She was still trembling from her release and feeling more than a little shattered by the sheer magnitude of her orgasm. Spencer dragged her panties off, tearing them a little and leaving the ruined and soaked garment tangled around one of her ankles.
“Okay, darling?” he asked gently, and Daff barely found the energy to shake her head.
“No. Damn you. I’m not.” It took everything in her not to cry like a baby again. What was it about the orgasms this man gave her that made her dissolve into an emotional heap every single freaking time? He kissed her again, and she was vaguely aware of him tugging something from the back pocket of his jeans. He got off the bed to very carefully drag off the offending denim garment. Good thing, too. Those damned jeans had overstayed their welcome.
God, he had superlative thighs. Heavy, well defined, and gorgeously muscled. A sportsman’s thighs. Her mouth went dry as she watched him climb back onto the bed. Brandishing that massive erection like a club, he clambered between her thighs, and she gawked at that huge thing so comfortably resting on top of her naked mound. It throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and the red, plum-size glans shone with moisture. She unthinkingly reached down to pet it.
“Uh-uh,” he rasped, intercepting her hand. “Hair trigger, remember?”
Daff stared mutely up into his beautiful, savage face.
She couldn’t believe they were finally going to do this. It felt so right. There was no overthinking it, and she was happy in this moment to trust Spencer not to abuse the power she was ceding to him.
She watched him open the little foil package and drag the latex up over his hardness. Afterward he sawed that sheathed column up and down against her cleft and she groaned, more than ready to go again.
“Spencer,” she whispered, thrusting up against him, wanting so much more. She felt open and exposed, but she didn’t care if he could see right into her soul. Not anymore.
“Darling Daff,” he growled, intensifying the sawing against her clit. He never quite allowed her to come down from her previous climax, and it was driving her crazy because while she felt sated, she didn’t feel finished. Finally, he reached between them and took hold of his shaft, placing himself at her entrance. Very slowly and very gently he eased himself inside. Daff whimpered at his impossible size, bigger than anything she’d ever felt before. She craved more and moved impatiently against him, even while his largeness felt uncomfortable. He refused to rush, doing this in Spencer time. And Spencer time crept along at a snail’s pace.