Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,72

tight. Nothing is better than this. He gripped her waist and moaned, her urgent puffs of breath skating across his skin.

“Fuck me, Tarquin,” she begged in his ear, daring him as she teased his balls, stroking and gently squeezing. “Fuck me fast, so we can do it again…and again…” As she slipped her tongue along the nape of his neck, Tarquin shivered, desire quaking through his body. “Let’s set a new record,” she purred, digging the nails of her free hand into his ass. “Think we can beat three times?”

“Better believe it. I could do it with both hands tied behind my back.”

“Ooh, I’ll file that for later.”

“Good thing I have ropes from rock climbing, then.” Tarquin raised a speculative brow as he began to roll his hips. “A smart, beautiful woman once told me, ‘Be careful what you ask for.’”

Leia rode each slow thrust, a grin breaking through her gasps. “I always ask for exactly what I want.” She tightened her grip on his balls then released them, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. She playfully nibbled and then sucked—hard.

Oh, mother of… The pleasure of her wicked mouth rocketed straight to his throbbing penis as it slid deep in and out. Two can play at that game. Tarquin drew in a heady breath, his finger rounding the curve of her hip. He swept between her thighs and Leia pushed against his hand, his gentle touch, stroking, teasing a vulnerable whimper through her lips, parting with need.

“Make me come…”

Capturing his mouth, Leia’s tongue parted his willing lips, their kiss frenzied and deepening, hands grabbing, their passion chasing the same goal as Tarquin thrust faster.

Going at it like this, we won’t last long. Sucking and kissing, an uncontrollable rush of heat and urgency pressed heavy in Tarquin’s core. She feels so good.

Leia left his lips with a growl, her gaze wild and determined, watching where their bodies met again and again. She writhed against him, grinding, swiveling her hips, her hands gripping his shoulders, which glistened with sweat.

God, she’s unreal. She’s right here with me, not backing down, giving as good as she gets. Tarquin held her waist, kissing her again, tasting her as his hips slammed—forward and back, faster, deeper—reveling in her hot, slick skin and breathy moans growing louder with each thrust. It was almost too much, her sounds, her heat lighting his fuse. His thighs burned, aching for release.

I can’t come first. I have to keep climbing so I can watch her, see her finish. He left her lips and dug his fingers into the curve of her ass, fighting to focus, desperate to hang on. I can’t surrender first.

Tarquin barely got his wish.

“Oh, god!” Thighs squeezing tight, a silent groan stalled in Leia’s throat. She shook and clung to him, her whole being coming apart in his arms—and pulling him down with her.

Tarquin moaned, Leia’s open lips and sweet gasps pushing him beyond the brink. I’m in trouble. I’m in freefall, losing myself completely. I… I love this girl. “Fuuuck!” He plunged over the edge, jerking with each intoxicating wave rolling through his body. Holding Leia tightly, his legs trembled with relief as the sweet ecstasy of learning her body’s secrets and earning her trust stole his breath—and his heart.

Fifteen

LEIA

I love it! This room looks like a hip bookstore meets Soho coffee shop—but tidier. He’s way too neat! Wrapped in Tarquin’s thick cotton robe, Leia sank into his luxurious sofa, a modern oasis of curved edges and sumptuous mulberry velvet, and admired the towering walnut bookshelves framing the room. Their contemporary design was comprised of one hundred and two (Leia had counted) open squares and rectangles of various sizes, stacked and arranged to best showcase Tarquin’s enviable collection of trade fiction paperbacks and hardbacks—all organized in a rainbow of candy-colored spines. I can’t get over all this! Tarquin should be a Bookstagrammer. She sipped her chilled orange juice and sat back, marveling at his knack for bookish flare.

The only wall spared of books was actually a window, yet another of the vertigo-inducing variety overlooking London’s jewels—in this case, literally. Leia had read about the Crown Jewels being kept under lock and key in the Tower of London, and the eighth-floor library offered an impressive cross-Thames view as well as a front-row seat to the morning’s spectacular sunrise.

She stretched against the sofa, careful not to aggravate last night’s injury—a pulled muscle in her back. Ugh, it pinches. Turns out, sex against his phone booth wasn’t one of my