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He took his time now, his lips teasing along her ribcage, exploring her trembling belly, until he reached the edge of her panties. He whipped them off with one strong hand, then spread her legs wide.
He paused for a moment, glancing up at her from beneath thick lashes. “You’re so fucking perfect Camille.”
When he blew lightly against her center, she moaned and slid her fingers into his thick hair. He groaned, then licked her in one long, thorough stroke.
“Please.” Her mind shut down and blinding sensation took over. “More.”
He looked up again, his eyes bright, his lips curved up. “I love how sensitive you are. I’m going to make you come again now.”
He lowered his head and worked his magical tongue on her. When she couldn’t control her hips––she had to move––his calloused palms gripped tight, holding her legs apart. “Stay still,” he demanded.
Her fingernails dug into his scalp––no way would she allow him to stop now. Not being able to move intensified the pleasure flowing through her. The small humming noises he made in his throat, as if she was the yummiest treat he’d ever tasted, drove her wild.
Her skin was slick, her moans uncontrolled now, and the orgasm blasted through her. “Oh my god, Trent. Yes.” Her words emerged as a scream.
She collapsed back, shockwaves pulsed through her from her scalp to her toes. Again. “Wow.”
He took his time, pressing kisses along her damp skin, and gently bit the spot where her neck and shoulder met. He’d discovered one of her most sensitive spots and exploited it––on their first time. Goosebumps erupted along her skin.
Finally, he reached up one hand and caught her jaw, turning her so he could capture her mouth. Their kiss was languid, lazy, like a dream. She reached for him, eager to return the favor, to take her time driving him wild. Her hands met the smooth fabric of his tuxedo.
Her eyes flew open. He was fully dressed, scarlet bowtie and all. His hair was rumpled from where she’d tunneled her hands in and held on for the ride. His lips were shiny from her, his eyes hooded.
“Hey beautiful,” he rasped. One strong hand stroked down her waist and wrapped around her hip.
“Hi yourself. My turn.” She caught the end of his bowtie and tugged it off. Anticipation sparked through her.
She pulled impatiently at the buttons on his crisp white shirt and stroked her fingers along the smooth column of his neck, savoring the jump of his pulse beneath her touch. He sat up and ripped the buttons open, revealing his strong square pecs, and the defined ridges of his sculpted abs. A light sprinkling of hair between small flat nipples led down to a dark trail that disappeared into his trousers.
Her mouth grew parched. He looked like one of those calendar guys who posed with kittens and puppies to help charity––flawless. She licked her lips. “The pants too, please. And tell me you have a condom.”
His jaw tightened, but his lips quirked up. “Give me a sec.” He leapt off the bed in one graceful move and stalked to his duffel bag. He’d tossed his shirt and jacket somewhere, and his back was as mouthwatering as his front. Broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, and a butt she couldn’t wait to get her hands on.
He whipped off his belt and shucked his slacks, leaving only a pair of black boxer briefs. He bent and grabbed a foil packet from the bag, lean muscles rippling as he moved. He strode back to the bed on long powerful legs, the front of his briefs tented out.
When he dropped one knee to the bed, she held up a hand. “Wait right there.”
She shimmied across the smooth coverlet until she sat in front of him. She moved her legs to frame his and reached one hand to palm him through the thin cotton.
He hissed her name through gritted teeth, his fingers curling into fists.
His skin burned beneath her touch, satin over steel. She ran one finger along the waistband of his boxers and looked up at him. His eyes were hooded, his nostrils flared, his chest rising and lowering with his breath.
Keeping her gaze locked with his, she used both hands to free him from the confinement of his boxers, his huge erection jutting out. She gripped his thick base, leaned down and swirled her tongue around him.
“Camille.” His voice was raw, strained.
She smiled and lowered her mouth, sliding down until he hit the back of her throat.
He rumbled and his hands grasped her head, not forcing her but keeping her in place as his hips began to rock. They found a rhythm and power surged through her––loving the taste of him, the feel of him. Imagining just how good he would feel inside her.
He stepped back and stared down at her, his breath coming in harsh pants. “It’s been a really long time and if I don’t stop you now, I won’t be able to make it further. I want to be inside you.”
Her inner walls clenched. “Yes, please.”
“Back up against the pillows. Now,” he growled, his eyes feral.
Excitement pulsed through her veins at his sensuous command. She scooted back until she hit the pillows. He advanced on her, caging her between his powerful arms. He lowered his full weight down on her, settling between her spread thighs. He entwined his hands in her hair, holding her head immobile. His solid length dug into her, and she tilted her hips up. Eager. Ready.
