“Gladly.” Skimming his lips up her thigh, along the satin of her skin, he took in her taste. Salty skin. Sweet woman. His woman. Slipping his hands under her hips, he dragged her to the very edge of the mattress and lowered his head, pressing his mouth against her.
She bucked against him, slamming her hands down on the mattress. “Joss,” she hissed out, her voice a garbled little shriek.
“I love the taste of you,” he whispered. “Love it.”
She whimpered and reached down, cupping his head in her hands and holding him against her, moving her hips, rocking up to meet his mouth. “Oh . . . like that,” she said, her voice a broken gasp when he stabbed her clit with his tongue.
When he pushed a finger inside her slick sheath, she keened out his name, her nails biting into his scalp. And then he twisted his wrist, adding a second finger, screwing them in . . . out. As she came a second time, his dick gave a violent, demanding jerk.
Inside her . . . now.
As she started to come back down, he stood up, tearing his pants open, shoving them down. The kiss of air on his painfully sensitive flesh was torture, and then she sat up, languid and slow, reaching out to curl her hand around him. “Is it my turn now?” she asked, her voice breathless, odd little tremors still wracking her body as she leaned in and pressed her lips to the head of his cock.
He wanted to tell her that it could be her turn whenever she damn well wanted, except then she opened her mouth and took him inside. She curled her tongue over him and every last muscle in his legs started to tremble, threatened to give out. Closing his hands around her head, he started to tug her back. But then she took him deeper. Pulled back and rolled her eyes to smile up at him. Did it a second time, a third . . .
With a ragged snarl, he fisted his hands in her hair and started to rock forward to meet her, fucking her mouth, easy and slow, while his legs trembled and his knees threatened to give out on him.
He was absolutely certain he’d never seen anything as erotic as this, not in his life. Dru’s mouth, so pretty and soft, on his cock, one hand holding the base, the other gripping his thigh, her neat nails biting into his skin. So erotic. So perfect. So very his . . .
His . . .
The need to come spread through him, sizzling through his spine, tightening his balls. Fisting his hand in her hair, he tugged her back, shaking his head, feeling half-crazed when she tried to take him back in her mouth. “Not this way,” he growled. “First time is inside you, damn it. In you.”
A bit of a smile curved her pretty lips. “You didn’t let my first time happen with you inside me.”
“So I’m a chauvinistic bastard.” He nudged her back on the bed, coming down on top of her, and then he had to stop, closing his eyes at the feel of her body against his. After all this time. Finally.
“Joss?”
Groaning, he turned his head to hers, blindly seeking out her mouth. He hooked an arm around her neck, needing her so much in that moment, so much he was all but stupid with it. Couldn’t think, breathe, or speak without her. She was everywhere, inside his head, his heart, under his skin.
Finally . . .
His cock jerked against the soft curve of her belly, demanding. Insistent.
She whimpered low in her throat and rocked, like she couldn’t wait to have him inside her.
Damn. He understood that feeling. Although it was like severing an arm in that moment, he tore his mouth from hers and shoved upright, fumbling on the bed for one of the rubbers. “A week,” he rasped. “When this is done, you and I are gonna find someplace where we can be alone and do nothing but this for an entire week.”
Her eyes, dark and serious, rested on his face.
His fingers felt too big, awkward, as he tried to tear the foil packet open.
“Let me,” she murmured, easing upward and taking it from him.
Licking his lips, he watched as she discarded the foil, and started to roll the latex sheath down over him. Her slim fingers were strong and confident as she smoothed it down, her hand steady.