Sure, Rob was good-looking enough, but he had an endurance runner’s build. Stronger legs than arms. Spare and lean. Pared down to the essentials. Given her own size and build, part of her had always worried she might snap him in half if she wasn’t careful. Even during sex.
But Karl... she wasn’t worried about breaking him. That sturdy body of his could handle hers. And she couldn’t wait to feel allthat heat, all that hair-roughened skin and tough muscle and ample softness, surrounding her so completely that she couldn’t register anything but how he felt. Around her. On top of her. Inside her.
She let out a long, low wolf whistle—half sincere appreciation, half taunt—and he flipped her off with both hands before unzipping.
When his jeans dropped to the floor a moment later, his wide, muscular thighs were finally bared to her gaze. They wereglorious. Between those thick thighs, the insistent swell of his erection strained the fabric of his burgundy boxer briefs, and she wanted to squeeze his hard cock with her hands. Suck it so deep, he’d swear and beg.
With a crook of her finger, she urged him closer. He toed off his socks before stomping up to the side of the mattress, looking cranky. His eyes weren’t quite meeting hers, and his flush had spread down his neck and over his chest. Which meant he was nervous and trying not to show it, but that wasn’t a problem. A few honest words would fix everything.
She flipped onto her side, facing him more directly, then offered him a smile that contained all her genuine appreciation and desire. And when she spoke, she let those emotions inflect her voice too.
“You are so fucking sexy, Karl,” she told him bluntly. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this. Ever.”
His shoulders dropped a fraction. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” With her forefinger, she slowly traced the line of his rampant cock through his boxer briefs. “Take these off too, and I’ll show you just how much.”
His expression much less grumpy now, he shoved down his last remaining clothing and kicked the fabric aside, then set his hands on his hips again and let her observe him.
In her experience, the appearance of a dick didn’t tell an outside observer much about its usefulness in bed. But at first glance, Karl’s still seemed promising. It reminded her of his agile, strong fingers. Not abnormally long, but definitely thick—and hopefully very, very capable of bringing her pleasure.
Under her gaze, his erection twitched and grew even more. A responsive bolt of heat flashed between her legs at the sight, and her next exhalation shook.
“How...” She cleared her throat. “How do you like to be touched?”
“By you.”
Brusque. Seemingly sincere. Not nearly informative enough.
She pressed her lips together. “That’s flattering—”
“Not flattering. Honest.”
“—but doesn’t actually help me much. So let’s get more specific. Do you want me to be gentle or firm? Slow or fast? Is there anywhere I should avoid, or anywhere that feels particularly good, apart from”—her eyes involuntarily drifted back toward his dick—“the obvious?”
“Touch me anywhere you damn well want,” he said immediately.
“Anywhere? Really?”
“Yeah. But make it firm, not gentle. Fast, not slow.” His chest expanded even farther in a deep breath, which he blew out slowly. “Don’t tease, Dearborn. Can’t take it. Not this time.”
No problem. Waiting had turned from painful to unbearable somewhere around the moment his boxer briefs had dropped to the floor.
“Fair enough.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged him onto the bed beside her, tumbling closer to his naked body as the mattressdipped under his weight. “Let me know if something doesn’t work for you, and I’ll do the same.”
A single nudge of her hand turned him onto his back. She climbed half on top of him, straddling his thigh. The coarse hair dusting his chest, his legs, his arms scratched delightfully against her overheated skin, and she rubbed up against him for a moment and closed her eyes at the faint abrasion against her stiff nipples and throbbing clit. He made a low, harsh sound, one big hand clamping on her hip while the other fisted a handful of her hair.
“Too rough?” he managed to grit out.
His hold was firm. Inescapable. Not even a tiny bit painful.
“Perfect,” she told him, and hardly recognized the muffled rasp as her own voice.
Without further ado, she licked her palm, claimed his mouth in a voracious kiss, and reached between them for his dick. She gripped it. Squeezed hard. Used the wetness at its tip to jack him in a fast rhythm as he grunted and bucked into her grasp.
His hold on her hip urged her into a rocking motion too, encouraging her to grind her clit against the tense, flexed muscle of his thigh. He pressed her down firmly, a silent demand to chase her own pleasure. She did—and promptly lost track of what she’d intended to do to him.
Lost in a haze of sunshine and need, she moaned into his mouth.
