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After what seems like years, my hands are finally on her perfect breasts. Still living on the memory of her pussy tightening on my fingers, I long for more. I pinch and pull until her whimpers extend to a full-blown groan. The tight tips dig into my palm as I squeeze the perfect fit. I break away, and she gulps in air. Smiling when she whispers, “Yes,” I bend to take her in, ripping her blouse down to expose her breasts to my tongue.
I devour her, taking and giving it all back so we can start again. Her whimpers have my dick twitching, and her roaming fingers set my pulse on fire.
Slamming her back into the door, I align our bodies. The only reason to tear our mouths apart is to look at her hooded lids, her lips bruised from mine. With deliberate concentration, I roll and press my dick into her. My aim is perfect. Her long moan assures me of that. Once more, I pull back and press in deep, and this time, it’s my name, long and drawn out on a breath.
“Quaid.”
I smile. The possessive bastard inside of me celebrates at the fact that it’s my name she’s saying. Not Carter’s. Not Logan’s… Although, I heard his name quite a bit the other night.
“Take off your clothes,” I order, done waiting. I’ve been waiting for this moment since the second I saw her there in that fucking perfect red dress, standing under the Eiffel fucking Tower like a fantasy I didn’t think I was brave enough to ever have.
I’d thought that I’d imagined the depth of my feelings for her, I’d thought that I’d become immune to the feelings that are now weighing heavy in my head and quite possibly strangling my heart.
Damn if I’ll let her get away without feeling the same way.
Even if it takes the rest of our lives, I’ll be sure when her eyes open, she remembers where I’ve been. All over her.
“Now,” I growl when she hasn’t moved. Her eyes are cloudy with a hint of apprehension. That, I can’t comprehend. This girl is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.
“Look at me, princess.” My shirt is the first thing to go. Her eyes roam somewhat feverishly over my chest and arms, following the line of my abs to the painful swelling at the front of my pants, her breath spiking, her nipples sharpening, her chest rising and falling while I rub myself.
“Do you want this?” I ask.
Licking her lips and nodding, she breathes out, “Yes.”
“Then show me all of you. I want to see everything before I take you against the wall, and on the table, and get you in my mouth.”
I’m rubbing myself shamelessly as the show starts with her shorts. Valentina’s hips sway while she shimmies them down her lean legs, ass swinging when they’re slow to fall, leaving her in a thong that I want to worship. She turns around, shaking her ass while she looks over her shoulder. I can’t take my eyes off of her, I’m literally glued to every move, and then she’s slipping her shirt off.
I groan when she’s naked in front of me. She’s thin. Worriedly too thin, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that she’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.
Words become lost somewhere in my brain when she turns, arms crossed to shield herself from my prying eyes. “You’re gorgeous,” I breathe, meaning it with every breath in my body. Dropping her arms to her side, she stills for a minute while I take my fill, staring at her.
Valentina
I can hear the longing in the rough gravel of his voice, I can feel it in every touch of his mouth to mine, and the roaming heat of his hands and fingers confirm it.
I’m standing naked before him, and his eyes clearly state his intentions. With heavy lids, his clear gaze roves over every inch of my skin. “I’m waiting,” I whisper.
He smirks. Leaning in, I wrap my arms around his neck, bringing our chests flush together. His breath hitches when my nipples graze over him, and then it’s game over. I’m crushed first into him and then against the wall. His mouth lacks the self-control he’s shown up to now. He plunders, stealing my panted breath and drawing out whimpers at the same time as my knees weaken from the assault. Slowing only long enough to take my bottom lip between his teeth, he sinks in and then sucks the sting away. My whimper-turned-moan fills the room, and still I’m not embarrassed. I’m consumed with need. Wrenching my mouth from his, I gasp for air when he confirms I’ve met both of his expectations.
“Valentina.” His voice is a rough patch against the silken slide of his fingers.
The air is cool against my skin when his heat disappears. After retrieving a condom from his pocket, he slides it in place. And then he’s back, and I’m trapped between his body and the wall. I can’t speak. The only thing I know is that I ache for him. My hips rock to relay the message my mouth is having trouble with.
There is concentration on his brow as I lose myself in him.
“What are you thinking?” I breathe out, not sure why I have to know right at this minute.
A moan vibrates in his chest, and then his mouth hovers over mine, not for a kiss, just waiting while he stares into my eyes. “Do you want to know everything?”
“Yes. Everything.”
“That I’ll gladly lose myself in you forever. I want to drown in you, so the morning will never come. I’m thinking about all of the things I want to do to you with my hands, my tongue, my body, and where I want you. But this…” He presses against my entrance, opening my body to take him. “I want this to go on forever.” Two things happen at once. I use his neck as leverage to hop up and wrap my legs around his waist. He drops his head onto my shoulder, to watch as he pushes forward, slipping in an inch at a time—slowly, deep, and we pulse together. I grip his hair and mewl as he stretches me open, so full, so good. Relief at having him inside of me sends a shiver up my spine, and a ripple wraps around him.
His mouth finds mine, and we kiss, a long, wet mimicry of his retreat and slide back in, until there’s nowhere left to go. An animalistic need takes over, and I rake my nails down his back. I want hard and fast. To hell with this slow rotation of his hips, once, twice, sinking deeper each time.
“Faster, Quaid.” I don’t want him holding back for a second. “Yes!”
