Ride Rough - Tessa Layne Page 0,45

the way it makes love to my mouth. I like fingering, too. But gentle, and light touches around my clit... and my lower back is especially sensitive."

"I don't even want to know how you learned that," he growled as she stopped for air.

She jumped right back in because if she thought about what was pouring out of her mouth she'd lose all her courage. "I love having my tits caressed, but not kneaded like they're bread dough. And when you suck on them, I like teeth, but not too much. I love it when you grab my hair. And your spanking threats make me want to be very, very bad." Her voice ended on a breathy note, heart racing so fast it might pound right out of her chest. She shut her eyes, because she couldn't look at him. Not right now when she'd rather the earth swallow her whole.

"Cecilia. Look at me." His voice was firm and gentle, but definitely brooked no arguing.

She grabbed a quick breath, let it out, then sucked in more. She hated feeling this vulnerable, this exposed.

"Cecilia." This time fingers brushed her cheek. She cracked open one eye, then the other. Her eyes widened at his broad grin. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She let out a breath and rolled her eyes. "If you overlook the near heart attack that caused, then sure."

"I appreciate you telling me."

"Why?" She recognized she was being difficult, but she had to know why it was such a big deal to him.

Trace's mouth twitched. "Because maybe I'm worried I'm off my game and I want to get it right. Having a roadmap... helps."

"Wait." A slow smile spread across her face. "You're... nervous?"

"Not anymore," he said frankly. "Now that you've shared your secrets, you better buckle up."

"Yeah?" she palmed his cheek, relishing the scrape of his beard on her wrist. She really, really wanted that scruff on her sensitive parts.

He didn't answer. He dropped his head and took her mouth like it was plunder, tongue invading and sweeping against hers.

Cecilia moaned threading her fingers through his hair, and holding on for dear life as he worked over her body, tasting her neck, her collarbone, her sternum. He latched on to a nipple, tongue swirling, teeth scraping, just like she'd asked for. She arched into his mouth, offering herself without pretense or shame.

"You're beautiful. Fucking beautiful," he uttered between kisses as he bit the soft flesh between her bellybutton and her hip, then licked it, moving lower with each lash of his tongue until he rested on her mound. "So soft," he muttered as his fingers grazed her swollen lips. "So wet." Trace settled himself between her legs, squeezing and stroking her thighs

She cried out when at last his tongue slid along her wet seam before he sealed his mouth around her clit, licking and sucking like she was his last meal. "Oh, god, yes," she rasped, rapidly spiraling into the stratosphere. He settled into a rhythm that drew her energy into a tight, feverish knot, coiling hotter and brighter with each stroke of his tongue. Her body was no longer her own. It was simply a vessel of need moving of its own volition, carried on a surge of sensation until she thought she would break apart from the madness of it. She could feel her orgasm building, winding through her body with the force of a hurricane. She cried out, clutching Trace's head as wave upon wave crashed over her, shattering her mind into a million white shards of light.

"Stay with me, babe," he uttered, shifting.

She dimly registered the tearing of foil, and then he was there, pressing against her entrance, pushing into her filling her up with long, firm strokes.

"That's it, sweetheart, ride it out, let me feel you."

The gravel in his voice, the weight of his words, the thrust of his cock filling her up, was more than she could bear. She hadn't even come down from one orgasm, and already her body was soaring to new heights as he hit a place deep inside her. She cried out again, not recognizing her voice or the string of profanity pouring out of her. There was just more sound and more sensation. The next orgasm hit her with dizzying ferocity, blanking her mind. Above her, Trace went rigid with a strangled noise, pushing deeper, harder with each stroke, grinding against her pussy and coming at last with a shout that mingled with her own cries.

Only one thought entered Cecilia's