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He slips a soap-covered hand between my legs and gently strokes where I ache. I flinch at first but then his rhythm becomes arousing. It’s clear he knows it too, judging by the cocky smirk on his face.
It soon changes when I remove his hand and settle a lot closer to him, so close that his dick throbs against my belly. I move his hand over my bottom and whisper, “Keep stroking.”
His hands tremble. When I cover my hands in bubble and wrap them around his heavy shaft, he clenches me to him. “I’m going to come if you do that.”
“I want you to. I want you to come all over me.”
He growls and lifts me up and down so his shaft gets friction from my belly. I continue while his hands slip beneath me and he inserts a digit into my wet channel. “That feels good.” I grip his shoulders and rock into him. My eyes stay glued to the head of his shaft. Watching the bulbous head flare and seep with pre-come heats my arousal and nothing can stop the climax that rushes through me.
My eyes roll and I moan while I clutch Michael to me, his hips twitch and I feel his release as he squirts all over my belly and breasts.
He groans, throwing his head back the tendons in his neck pulse. So while he’s distracted in the thrall of orgasm, I reach between us and grab his cock. I pump my fist and watch as more creamy liquid shoots out, and more still. I stroke until there’s nothing left and when his gaze holds mine, I see surprise and exhaustion.
“You loved that?” Although I asked him the question, I certainly don’t expect an answer. “It was hot watching you come because of me.”
“I always come because of you.” He chuckles and, holding my bottom, he slides me toward his knees while his eyes rove over my chest. “I made a mess,” he comments.
“Mmm.” I run a finger through the semen and watch as his eyes darken and his cock sits up and takes notice. “But, I’m not sure I can have any part of you inside of me right now,” I admit, sadly.
Michael hugs me to him, and then, very carefully, proceeds to clean me with a soft sponge. “We need to behave for a few days while you heal.” He kisses between my breasts and then my lips. “I’ll be happy to just hold you in my bed. I’ll be even happier to hold you in my bed back in Lexington. That’s where I want to see you. I want to see you wearing one of my shirts and nothing else while you eat breakfast with me in my kitchen.” He cups my face in a tender caress. “I want to drink hot chocolate with you while we’re wrapped in blankets to keep warm on my veranda overlooking the lake.”
I exhale slowly while my belly fills with nerves. “That sounds—”
“Anyone here?”
Our heads turn toward the sound of Carrie’s angry voice before we look back at each other. “You stay here. I’ll get rid of her.” Michael’s face is filled with determination.
“What? No!” I stand on shaky legs and Michael helps me to keep my balance. “She isn’t seeing you without clothes.” I shake my head. “Like hell.” I quickly grab a large towel and wrap it around me. “You get dressed and come out. I’ll change then.”
Before he can catch me, I dash out of the bathroom, annoyed that she ruined a perfect moment between us.
Just in time, it would seem. “Those aren’t yours to look at,” I hiss.
“Ah,” she turns, letting Michael’s papers drift back to the table, “my little sister has claws.”
“I’m not in the mood for you right now, Carrie. You have no right coming in here without an invitation.”
“Father owns this villa.”
“And, Michael is staying here while he works. Which means you knock at the front door and wait for him to answer.” Seeing that she doesn’t care, I add, “I’m sure Dad will be telling you the same when I ask him for clarification later.”
Michael slips behind me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I have a meeting with your father later this morning, I’ll be sure to ask him to clarify for me on your behalf Carrie.”
Her face twists in anger.
“I’m going to get dressed. Did you actually want anything?” I ask.
“I wanted to remind you about the beach with Sinclair. Wondered if you’d forgotten.” She moves slowly toward the door, her gaze roaming over Michael.
I narrow my eyes. “No, I haven’t. It’s still early.” I raise a brow. “I’ll meet you up at the house in an hour. Sinclair should be
awake by then.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” she asks, her eyes gleaming with some emotion that I can’t place.
Mine are probably showing just how irritated I am with her, which is why she’s prolonging this. Instead of playing her games, I throw my hands up in the air. “I’ll see you later.” I storm into Michael’s bedroom to grab my clothes. As I reach for my dress, I spy a shirt of Michael’s. Smiling to myself, I slip it on and only fasten a few buttons before I sit on the end of the bed and wait for him.
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