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Alana grinned. “Very.”
She placed a knee on the hard- packed earth on each side of his hips and moved into position. Dew coated the grass and the blades tickled her skin. He bit off an invective when she gripped his thick length, her other hand aiming for the wetness between her thighs.
“How does it feel to touch yourself?”
She still couldn’t see his eyes clearly and his voice was husky with need. So sexy.
She could pretend she was with anyone, touching anyone. Even Ramon.
But it was Nicky’s face that formed in her mind. His eyes half- closed as he lowered his face to hers while Aerosmith played in the background. His grin tonight when he dispatched her bitchiness with a wisecrack.
Again, she almost asked him. Is it really you? But did she honestly want to know?
“Like not enough,” she whispered, silencing her internal questions with thorough swipes of her fingers along her slit.
She knew how to make herself come fast. Four years spent sharing a bedroom with two younger sisters had meant learning to take the edge off in a hurry. Her other talent was a soundless climax. Some guys didn’t like that she didn’t whimper or beg, but she made up for her lack in some areas with other talents.
“You’re wet.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Your clit’s swollen.”
“And pounding.” She danced her sopping fingers over his length. “There’s a little hint of what you’re missing.”
He cursed, long and low. “You’ve got two seconds. Either you take me inside you or I’ll forget I’m a gentleman and flip you on your back and get you all dirty.” She rubbed him in firm strokes from the crown of his cock to the base, nestled in a thatch of wiry hair. She almost wished he hadn’t suited up so soon because she wanted to feel that little trickle of precum on her palm. “I like it dirty. I also like that you’re so fucking hard.”
He practically growled.
Tormenting him was fun. His rough exhales definitely encouraged her mischievous side. Maybe she’d have to take him home after all.
Easing forward, she crawled up his body to explore. She started with long licks of his stubbled throat, butterfly kisses along his jaw, quick nips of his earlobe. He had a tiny mole near his collarbone, and a wet kiss there made him groan. His aftershave was subtle, just a hint of alpine that fit the woodsy scents surrounding them. Even the crisp aroma of his shampoo ignited her lust.
He drove his hands in her hair and dragged her face back to his. His tongue took possession of her mouth, his tempo slow and unhurried despite the rigid shaft trapped between their stomachs. The kiss went on forever. She hadn’t been consumed like this in years, if ever. These were soul- searching kisses, the kind long- term lovers shared. His hands didn’t wander her body but just the sensual movements of his mouth wet her thighs.
She massaged his cock while the nails of her free hand dug into his chest. He grabbed her wrist, lifting her fingers to his lips. “Give me a taste.” His satisfied groan rang out as he sucked her finger deep. “Oh sweetheart. Chocolate ice cream has nothing on you.”
Laughing felt so damn good, even when she ached so much she wanted to scream.
“You like it creamy, huh?”
“Hell, yeah. Your cream especially.”
Still smiling, she slid back and impaled herself, engulfing all of him in her snug wet sheath. Her smile disappeared quickly as delirious tremors racked her body.
“Fuck, yes.” She hissed out a breath. “Yes.”
She shoved up his shirt, needing to feel his bare flesh under her palms. Then she started to move, taking slow trips up and down his cock while he steadied her with his hands on her hips.
Alana triumphed at the flash of his teeth in the darkness. Ramon who?
“That’s it. God.” He matched her pace effortlessly. “Baby, you’re so good.” Her breasts tingled and as if he knew it, he reached up to tug sharply on her nipples through her shirt. Her core clenched in time with his pulls.
“Harder.” He twisted his fingers on her sensitive peaks and she arched, taking him deeper to show her appreciation. “You take direction well.” He let out a pained half laugh. He filled her perfectly, and better yet, he let her control the show. That he gave her the reins so easily increased the slow burn of arousal cramping her belly and fed the steadily increasing moist heat that clasped his shaft as she rocked them both into heaven.
“I can’t wait.” His whisper seemed almost conspiratorial. “Sweetheart, come with me.”
Baby, sweetheart. She wasn’t normally one for endearments, but she liked his. They made her feel treasured. She squeezed her inner walls, needing him to go over more than she needed to follow. His body tensed and the rise and fall of his hips became more erratic. She loved making a man lose control. Even if she didn’t come, his orgasm would make her feel good. Already her pussy was tightening in anticipation.
