Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,44

her belly, nipped at her hip bone, his lips grazing the hollow above her groin. His face brushed against the curls concealing her sex and she couldn’t stop her hips from thrusting up in welcome.

He turned her to face him, then tugged one leg over his shoulder, opening her to his hungry gaze.

“Oliver,” she whimpered as embarrassment warred with utter lust. The look on his face was so covetous, so admiring, she decided to go with the lust.

“You are absolutely mouthwatering.” He traced his fingertip over her clit, then down, separating the lips of her sex, opening her for his most intimate perusal. “So pink and shiny. I love how wet you are.”

She gulped. No lover had ever examined her so frankly, or spoken so bluntly. That thick note of hunger in his voice said he meant every word he said. This man knew how to use language, all right—he seduced her with every word he said. She’d bet he was wicked in the courtroom. And more wicked in the bedroom.

“This is so pretty,” he mused as he thumbed her clit, rolling it around. He slipped a finger into her channel, drawing a low gasp from her. “And so is this. I can’t decide which I want to taste more.”

He was apparently the decisive sort. Because not ten seconds had passed before he moved his head between her thighs and went down.

When he buried his face in her sex and began to devour her, she saw stars. She clutched him, twining her fingers in his hair as he lifted her other leg and draped it over his shoulder. Her limbs were practically wrapped around his neck, but he didn’t seem interested in going anywhere else, so she left them there and focused on the incredible sensation of his mouth against her plump, swollen lips.

He devoured her, licking into her, making love to her with his tongue. She was gasping as he moved up to her clit and gently sucked and stroked. Back and forth he went until she was arching, twisting, helpless against her body’s intense reaction.

This time, when she came in a heated rush, he didn’t stop what he was doing. He went right on pleasuring her, focusing on her clit while he slid his fingers deep into her and worked some magic on a spot high inside. Tears formed in her eyes, and she was whimpering as another orgasm washed over her.

Now he finally seemed satisfied. He gently lowered her legs and kissed his way back up her body. Still dazed, she only regained her senses when she realized he was pulling away to stand up and unfasten his jeans.

This was worth her full, utmost attention.

She caught her lip between her teeth and watched him, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning who was finally going to get to open her biggest present.

“Wow,” she whispered when he peeled away his boxer briefs.

Because big didn’t quite describe him. His cock could be described with three of her favorite adjectives: long, thick and rock-hard. It jutted out, proud and male and hot. That river between her legs threatened to turn into an ocean just at the sight of him.

“I’ve been walking around like this since the night you slammed me with the frying pan.”

“Feel free to get even by slamming me with that,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly, but he soon stopped laughing. Because Candace wasn’t satisfied with just looking. She had to touch him, feel all that silk-encased steel.

She sat up straight. Scooting to the very edge of the couch, she parted her thighs to make room for his legs and leaned close to his naked body. Close enough to cast warm breaths of air over him, her lips hovering an inch from all that luscious maleness. But she didn’t go further, not quite yet. She wanted him as out of his mind with desire as she’d been.

Groaning, he twined his hands in her hair. Candace knew she was tormenting him, but knowing from very recent experience that anticipation was wonderful, she didn’t give him what he wanted. Instead, she reached up and traced her fingers over his cock, from the top down the long back, to the sacs beneath. She cupped them gently, hearing his gasp and feeling his hands tighten in her hair. The position was incredibly intimate. He was as physically vulnerable as a man could make himself, and she was conscious of the trust that must require. Obviously, given how men loved to be blown, the