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I feel her eyes on me, but I can’t tear my gaze from the shape her hand makes in her pants, between her legs.
I watch, mesmerized. It’s so sexy, I just want to flip her over and consume her like wildfire, but I hold back. It’s not what she needs.
She strokes off, thighs rocking above mine. My cock grows hard as granite. Even the weight of her on my lap is hot.
I slide my hand over hers—just lightly, just to be there with her, to feel what she does.
My breath gusts in and out. I can feel my nostrils flaring. I’m starving for her. I need to feel her naked against me, skin to skin, belly to belly, heat to heat.
I tear my eyes up to meet hers, beer-bottle brown, translucent in the daylight.
“Mmm,” she says teasingly, lips curling.
“Vicky.” My voice sounds strangled. Like it might be coming from somewhere else. “Vicky, Vicky, Vicky…”
Slowly, eyes still locked on mine, she draws out her hand, holds up two glistening fingers.
I grip her wrist and my lips are closing over her fingers. She yelps at the speed and violence of my grab. “What are you, a vampire?”
I suck every last bit of her off of them. She tastes sweet and dirty. She’s trembling. Vibrating. I feel it where my skin meets hers.
I run my tongue along the underside of her fingers, giving her the wonderful world of the human tongue and the sparkle in her eyes tell me she’s thinking that, too.
She yanks her hand from my mouth and runs sloppy fingers down my chin and down to my straining dick.
She cups me, squeezing. A shudder thrums through me. I’m about to burst out of my skin for her. I cannot get enough of this woman. I think I never will.
“Carry me,” she says. “Hurry.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I palm her ass cheeks and sweep her up. She locks her arms and legs around me as I whirl her around and walk her in, stopping once at a wall just to press her there and kiss her.
I bring her into the bedroom and lay her down. I unbutton and unzip her, kissing silky soft skin. She wriggles under me, soft limbs in a nest of sheets and clothes and the blanket from the porch.
Her panting has a music to it. A high, shaky note, in and out. Her breath gets shakier when I touch her pussy. She grabs onto my hair, pulling as I do her, as I expertly match the speed she did herself with. She groans and pulls. “I won’t last if you do that!”
I’m stunned at how bad I want her. I want to tell her, but I don’t want to scare her.
There aren’t words for it anyway.
Well, maybe there are.
I stand and pull off my own clothes with much less ceremony, looking her over, laid out for me. Her gaze looks drugged. She presses a foot to my belly while I take off my pants.
I roll on a condom. I crawl over her and worship her. She kisses my biceps as I press her hands over her head, as I settle between her legs, spread open for me.
Not for Henry Locke, Most Eligible Bachelor, but me.
She watches me with those brown eyes, watches me as I guide myself into her. I push low and deep into the hot grip of her body, trembling all the way in.
She lowers her eyelids, gone with pleasure. Her groan, when I’m fully inside her, is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.
She squeezes my ass as I move inside her, rocking gently into her. I change my angle until I hit that spot that makes her gasp, sweet and sharp, and then I stay there, moving at it, watching the way her eyes glaze over. Taking her clear over the edge with me.
Afterwards, I throw on a robe and go around to the veranda to fire up the hot tub.
“I didn’t know this was over here,” she says, coming up behind me and circling her arms around me. She’s wearing one of my shirts. It makes me want to walk her right back into the bedroom. Maybe the wall.
“Little-known secret of my veranda.”
