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He flattened his hand on her torso, holding her still. His tongue took up the battle his fingers had abandoned in favor of keeping her in place while the fingers of his other hand circled the pucker between her ass cheeks. She moaned at the dual sensations, surprised yet again by the wicked thrill of having him penetrate her back there too.
And then the war was over before she’d even launched a suitable defense.
She rocketed upward, her heels bearing down as she ground against his face. He lapped at her, his enjoyment clear from the sounds he made. They were both noisy as hell in bed, and she took a moment to thank God that Kim wasn’t home before she dropped back to the mattress and basked in the afterglow. Nah, not strong enough. Afterblow maybe, because he’d blown her freaking mind.
Again.
“I. Love. Your. Mouth.” Each word was separated by a half breath. Her lungs hadn’t quite started functioning normally yet, and him crawling up the bed to plant his hands on either side of her head didn’t help. Especially when she could look down and see the thick, swollen gift awaiting her between his legs.
He kissed her, his tongue leisurely playing with hers. He knew she liked tasting herself, even without her ever telling him. Sexually they were in perfect sync. Everything else? Working on it.
“Mmm, and I love your pussy. It’s always so quick to welcome me back.”
He caught her giggle against his lips as he grasped her breasts in his palms, caressing them through the nubby cotton nightgown she wore. She arched at the rough pull of his fingers, relaxing into his touch. There was nothing wrong with the world when Brad O’Halloran’s hands were on her body.
Without warning, he tugged her up and splayed her on top of him. “I’m weak and sickly. Isn’t that the line you used?” He bit her earlobe at her laughter. “Think you need to handle things from here on out.”
“Oh, do you now?” She sent her nightgown flying and braced her hands on his rock-hard stomach, using him for leverage to slide up and down. She didn’t take him inside her yet, just teased him with the proof of her excitement. His groan told her what she already knew—she was getting him plenty wet, and he had only himself to thank. “Well, I suppose I can do this for a while.” She bit her lower lip, gyrating on him while heat flared in his eyes. “How’s this?”
Body issues in his presence? Gone. How could she wonder how he viewed her when his gaze practically devoured her, clothed or naked? There was no mistaking the frank appreciation in his expression and in his touch. He wanted her, every bit as much as she wanted him.
Though his gaze burned, he crossed his arms behind his head, clearly intending to make her work for it. And work she would. “Faster,” he gritted out. Just his voice caused her empty pussy to contract. Perhaps this dry—so not dry—humping idea hadn’t been her best. “Make those pretty tits bounce for me.”
Oh God, there he went with the dirty talk. It was like pure ambrosia to her starved senses after years of furtive clinches that consisted of descriptive soundtracks like “ooh, yeah, babe, nice.” With him she could be as naughty as she wanted to be—and she would.
She picked up her pace as requested, one hand traveling between her breasts to plump her nipples the way he liked. The way she liked. She reached back to stroke his cock, its heavy weight against his thigh an irresistible temptation. His eager length pulsed in her grip. Wetness smeared her palm as she pumped him, getting him brutally hard within a few short strokes. Then she went for his balls, toying with them even as she twirled her fingers around her own sensitive nipples.
His chest rose and fell in quick succession, and his lids lowered to half-mast, his beautiful irises partially hidden by his heavy fringe of dark lashes. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open, and his hips stirred beneath her as if he couldn’t stay still.
“Watch,” she whispered, lifting up and then sinking down to take him into her body. Slow, so slow. Like she was sliding down a mountain. At the base she collided with his groin, and the contact sent her clit into hyperdrive. She gasped at the sudden spasm that gripped her. He broke his casual pose and reached out to grab her hips, anchoring them together while their bodies flexed and separated without her conscious thought.
The gravitational pull of Brad’s magnificent penis had taken over, and all she had to do was ride him for all she was worth.
She twisted her nipples harder, her other hand snaking down to strum her clit. He groaned and drove into her, so hard and deep that her back bowed in supplication. Even from below he was controlling things, shoving her to the brink and holding her there. She might’ve been embarrassed by the way her sex clutched at him, so slickly that wet noises accompanied his every retreat and thrust. Might’ve been had his fevered groans not offered distracting background music.
“That’s it. Deep. Deeper. Take me.” Said while he bent her backwards, her hands on his knees the only thing keeping her from flying off the bed. As roughly as he fucked her, he tenderly skimmed his hand over her stomach.
And in his eyes she saw the words they still hadn’t shared, the twin of the emotions that carved through her as cleanly as a blade. Leaving no room for doubts, for anything but him.
With one flick of her nipple, she cried out, her climax even more unexpected for its force. She’d built and built and now she crashed, shaking and limp as aftershocks rampaged through her system.
But he didn’t stop. He never stopped.
Somehow she found herself on her knees at the side of the bed, facedown on the mattress. How exactly she’d gotten there, she couldn’t say. All she knew was that Brad was still as hard as granite inside her, and she’d started to ascend that peak again, her spine arching with each plunge. She couldn’t fathom how she could come again. Knew she would die if she didn’t. She fisted the bedsheets, her shoulders hunched, her body melting into the bed from his relentless siege. He’d made her his, and now he was staking his claim.
He pulled her hair, and the pain felt like permission. To be completely in this moment, to give herself totally to him. To let go again with a moan that verged on agony. Even if they wrecked, they’d go over the cliff together. And God, the trip would be fucking fabulous.
His shout as he came made her shudder. Out of reflex her teeth scissored into the rumpled bedding as his release blasted her inner walls, renewing spasms that had yet to fully cease. He continued to surge into her while he softened. Extending her pleasure, sharing it. Wrapping it around them so nothing could ever touch them but its fragil
e, transcendent beauty. He fumbled for her hands on the bed and, holding them, swiveled into her until he’d sated the need he’d aroused, easing her body to a shivering plateau beneath his.
Gripping her fingers tight, he brushed his lips over her neck. Her ear. The curve of her jaw. “I’m falling for you, Sara.” Hearing him repeat what he’d said the other night when he’d been drowsy from cold meds caused her pulse to skip. “It’s not too soon when it’s right.”
“Too soon?” She let out a watery laugh. “I’ve been waiting forty-two damn years.”
He didn’t say anything, just pressed close to her back and buried his face in her hair. Waiting. Asking the question without words.
So she answered it.
