40-Love - Olivia Dade Page 0,73
relaxed and subsided into the mattress.
When he raised his head, her eyes were still closed.
“Want to sleep now?” he whispered.
Given the rampant state of his body, he wasn’t sure he could drop off anytime soon, and he’d had other ideas for their evening together, but she needed her rest.
She blinked open heavy-lidded eyes. “No.”
“Good.” Urging her to lift her hips, he stripped away her shorts. “Because I want to test out the vibrator tonight, if you’re willing. You know, for scientific reasons. To find out whether using it helps your cramps.”
Her lips curved in a sudden, wicked grin. “I don’t know if my orgasm helped my cramps, but it certainly did a lot for my mood.”
“Noted for future purposes.” He mimed scribbling the information on his palm. “Now for our next experiment. Let me get the vibrator from my—”
“Let’s save that for morning.” She caught his hand and tugged him down beside her. “Right now, I have other priorities.”
“Cuddling, I hope.” He frowned at her. “You deliberately distracted me earlier, and I didn’t get my promised allotment. It was all very unfair.”
She gaped at him for a moment, then closed her mouth with a snap. “I mentioned under-boob sweat, which is possibly the least sexy thing in the world, and the next thing I knew, your hands were in my panties. How on earth can you blame me for that?”
The sweep of his hand encompassed all of her, from her rumpled hair to her cute pink toes. “You were standing there in just a sports bra and shorts. So the better question is: How was I supposed to resist that sort of temptation? It was entrapment, really.”
Despite his best efforts to stifle a grin, she gently poked a fingertip into his dimple. “It was a faded cotton sports bra and baggy shorts, smartass. Not to mention my period panties, which are enormous.”
“It was you,” he said simply.
She faltered for a moment, swallowing hard. “You’re the one who took off my shirt.”
“Then I hereby accept the blame for the offending orgasm.” He inclined his head, his tone lofty and gracious. “And now claim the cuddling time due to me.”
When he tried to tip them both back onto the mattress, her hand on his bare chest stopped him. “Not so fast.”
“Don’t tell me you’re reneging on your cuddle-related promises.” His stare was mournful, even as his lips twitched. “I may cry.”
She wasn’t even trying to hold back her own grin anymore. “Strip, Karlsson.”
“Naked cuddling, I’ll accept.” Quickly, he shucked his shorts and boxer-briefs, then urged Tess back against the pillows at the head of the bed and wrapped her in his arms. “Sorry about, uh—”
“Mr. Perky isn’t a problem.” Her hand closed over him. “Mr. Perky is a bonus.”
He’d been prodding her soft thigh, despite his best efforts, but now…
Fuck. Her hand was strong and agile, the pressure on the sensitive underside of his cockhead perfect, and this wasn’t what he’d intended. At all.
He rocked his hips against her touch, helpless. “Älskling, I didn’t mean—”
“Hush,” she said, and licked her palm before gripping him once more. Then her fingers paused. “Unless you don’t want to do this? It’s okay if you’re not in the mood, or—”
“Oh, I’m in the mood. Trust me.” He blew out a breath. “I just wanted tonight to be all about you. Not me.”
Her brows rose in emphasis. “And what I want is to make you come, just like you made me come. Giving you pleasure makes me feel…”
Her grip tightened as she trailed off, and the wash of pleasure stole his breath. “Makes you feel what?”
“Connected to you. Powerful. The way you look at me right before you have an orgasm…” She bit her lip. “I want that. Again. But only if you do too.”
They both looked down then, and the sight of her long fingers wrapped around his ruddy cock, her pale, plump thigh gleaming in the light of his bedside lamp, the swollen wetness of her lower lip…
The urge to rut into her hand, against her giving flesh, overwhelmed him. He had to close his eyes for a moment to regain even a sliver of control.
When he opened them again, she asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
Silently, he shook his head. Closing his fingers over hers, he tightened her clasp.
She didn’t move a millimeter. “I need words.”
“Don’t stop. Please.”
His voice was hoarse, and maybe he would have been embarrassed by that, by his pleading, another time, or with another woman. But not now, and