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She did, watching their shadowy images in the window, watching the way his dark hand moved against her soft, pale belly. She couldn’t speak as his other hand rose to cup her breast through the bra, tweaking her nipple until the touch merged with the visual and she got lost somewhere in between.
Then, finally, he unfastened her bra and they both watched it fall away. He stared at her reflection, slowly moving his hand up to cup her breast, catch her puckered nipple between his fingers and delicately pluck at the sensitive spot.
She whimpered. The tension rose. And while she loved the way he touched her breasts, and his other hand stroked her hip and thigh, she wanted more. She shifted, arching toward him, wanting to feel some part of him inside her.Now.Rightnow.
He understood and complied. She cried out as his finger dipped into her wet body. Watching the reflection—the movement of his hands, the way his fingers disappeared inside her—was almost as delicious as feeling them. Almost.
“More,” he whispered as he finally stepped away. Caro couldn’t move, she was hot and mindless, almost unable to remember where they were or who she was or anything except how it felt to be in Mick’s arms.
He swept her up into those arms and carried her to the bed, then placed her gently in the center of it. For a moment, he stared down at her, devouring her, his control nearly gone. She could tell by the jagged breaths he drew through parted lips and the dark, heavy-lidded look in his eyes.
“Take me, Mick.”
He nodded. But before he joined her, he went back to the window and looked outside. Giving a tiny, mocking bow he whispered to the night, “I think you’ve seen enough.”
Then he closed the drapes and returned to the bed.
MICK WOKE UP slowly Sunday morning, aware of the coolness of the air in the hotel room, not to mention an unusual sensation on his chest. His stomach. His thighs.
Sweet, silky, so soft as it slid down his body, over his morning hard-on. He wondered if Caroline had found a feather or was scraping her silky panties over him. But no. It was her hair. Caroline’s hair was sliding across him as she made an erotic journey down his body.
The covers were gone, the room lit by a sliver of morning light creeping in through the slight part in the drapes.
Not that he could see much with his eyes nearly closed. Not that he could think anything with his mind focused only on what she was doing. Not that he could feel anything other than her mouth, her hands, her tongue…hertongue.
“Oh, God,” he moaned, wondering how Caroline had the energy to torment him after the long, sensual night they’d just shared.
“Good morning,” she whispered as she continued to kiss, taste and lick her way down…down…pressing her lips to that hollow over his pelvic bone, then lower. Her sweet dark hair, so soft and thick, slid across his skin with the sensuality of silk. And her mouth…what her mouth was doing to him could make a grown man beg for mercy.
“Caroline…”
“Shh,” she whispered against his thigh. Then she moved over him, took him in her mouth, slowly sucking the length of him until he thought he’d go out of his mind.
Wet. Hot. Tight. So incredibly erotic that it was hard to control his instinctive reaction. His body wanted him to come right then, to give in to the sweet suction and the little coos of delight she made as she pleasured him. She liked driving him crazy like this. She always had. And it had always taken every bit of restraint he had not to explode into her mouth when what he really wanted was to explode deep inside her body.
“Enough,” he groaned, grabbing her shoulders to pull her up.
She resisted, taking one or two more mind-blowing tastes of his cock, as if she’d never tasted anything better and didn’t want to stop.
“Caroline….”
“Oh, all right,” she grumbled, letting him pull her up so she rested on his chest and their eyes met. Hers held a definite twinkle, a bit of mischief. “I was hoping you wouldn’t wake up until it was…um…too late.”
The mental picture of what she suggested made him lean back his head, close his eyes and groan. He clenched his fists to strive for control. Her words inflamed him as much as her touch.
“You okay?” she whispered, her tone sultry, her lips brushing against his neck.
He thrust up against her, letting her feel just how okay he was. Then, before she had a chance to move off him, he grabbed her hips and began tugging her up his body. He felt the cream of her pussy as he dragged her over his heated skin.
“God, you’re so wet. I want a taste.”
Her eyes widened and she let out a tiny gasp when she realized where he was positioning her. Right over his face.
“My turn.”
He didn’t give her a chance to protest before he licked into her slit, tasting her sweet juices. He’d eaten her before, even last night. But it had been so long since he’d had her like this, so fully exposed above him, open to him, helpless to resist as he gripped her thighs and she held onto the headboard.
Mick licked every fold. Knowing she might be tender from the wild night they’d shared, he kept things tender, soft, even when he slid his tongue into her opening, gliding in and out.
