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He lifted off of her slightly, to capture his weight on his hands, and Vivienne began to frantically tug at his tie. The man was still dressed while she was in her underwear. It was not fair. She wanted to see him naked, wanted to run her hands along taut skin and underlying muscle, and…she wanted to taste him. That thought sent delicious shivers down her body. She tossed the tie to one side of the bed and he captured her lips. Moaning, she shifted up against him, grinding against the hardness still encased in his pants.
Vivienne turned her head away from the kiss, and pushed at his shoulders. She began to work at the crisp, white shirt, unbuttoning it, and then pushing it from his broad shoulders.
A gasp escaped her as she stared at the solid mass of his chest. Sinewy, beautifully sculpted, and what a magnificent tattoo. It covered half of his chest and most of his arm, inch-wide curved lines of black ink, which seemed to begin at his upper arm and spiral downward, almost like a sleeve, before branching out onto his chest. Vivienne had never found guys with tattoos particularly attractive, but there was something about his tattoo that seemed natural, like it wasn’t just art, but an extension of him. She reached out with a finger and traced the lines, wondering what they symbolized. Under her touch, she felt him tense. His eyes closed, and his breaths came fast. A wicked smile touched her lips as she pushed onto an elbow and ran her tongue over his flat nipple. Should any man taste so good?
Before she knew what was happening, Vivienne was once more pinned to the bed and her bra was being removed and tossed. When Conall kissed her again, her body erupted into flames and she grabbed the back of his head. The hardness of his chest crushed her breasts, and his hips nestled directly between her spread legs. His lips moved down her neck, licking and sucking at pleasure points, before making their way to her nipples.
“Oh my Go—” She ended on a loud groan as his tongue flicked rapidly over her nipple before circling the peak, and then lightly nipping at it. He licked down the valley of her breasts to her navel, where he circled the little indentation. The bed shifted, and she opened her eyes. He was standing at the foot of the bed, his features harsh and controlled.
“Conall,” she began, shifting her hips at him and fully prepared to do whatever was necessary to get him back into the bed.
***
A squeal escaped her lips when his large hand locked onto her ankle and pulled. She slid down the bed. Conall pulled once more, until her hips were at the bed’s edge and she was spread before him like a delectable feast.
His eyes held hers as he palmed her. Biting her lip, she arched into his hand, her breasts rising high on her chest. He tucked his fingers into the flimsy panties, and pulled them from her body, exposing her glistening sex. Perfect.
Kneeling for better access, he put his face forward, inhaling the very essence of her being as a pounding began in the base of his skull. Once more, his beast rose to the surface, demanding release. Fuck! He’d thought he would be able to control it.
The first touch of his tongue to her slit sent her spiraling into orgasm. Conall growled low as he felt the rapid pulsations. He hadn’t even started. Pushing her legs farther apart, he attacked her with a ravenous vengeance. He’d never wanted any woman this much. He couldn’t get enough of her taste, of her scent. As it was, his own scent rode high on the air, higher than usual, as he prepared to make her his.
***
Coming down from her last orgasm, Vivienne watched, dazed, as Conall turned away from her and pushed his pants and boxers down in a fluid motion. Even in her state of satiaety, she felt her mouth water as she stared at his muscular back, tight buttocks, and toned legs. His body was a work of art, better than the David statute everyone identified with perfection. The tattoo, which also curved around one half of his back, only made him more museum-worthy.
And then he turned around. Vivienne pushed herself onto her elbow to stare in wide-eyed fascination at the thing springing up from a nest of black hair at his thighs.
Is it supposed to be that big?
Between the era of the Internet and Drew’s curiosity about the male anatomy, Vivienne had seen a few penises before. From Cosmo and other magazines, she knew that six to eight inches when erect was normal. She also knew for certain that Conall was definitely over that size range.
As she stared, it seemed to grow even larger. For the first time since she’d entered the suite, panic erupted in her mind. He wouldn’t fit!
Suddenly, the lights went out and darkness greeted her, obscuring her vision.
“Conall,” she began, her voice small with fear. “What happened to the lights?
