walked up the stairs, shaking it at me, all I’ve been able to think about was getting you on your hands and knees and slamming into you from behind.”
She didn’t hesitate, rising onto her knees, her bottom perched up invitingly. When he caught sight of that glistening pink slit, he forgot everything else. Nothing mattered except the need to get inside her and pump wildly, to imprint himself on her, body and soul.
“Come and take me,” she ordered. “Take me and come.”
He knelt on the bed behind her, nestling his cock between her cheeks, sliding up and down to wet it with the cream seeping from her sex. She was whimpering, pushing against him, silently begging for more. Unable to resist a moment longer, he nudged her legs farther apart and moved his cock to her slick opening.
“Yes. Now, please!”
He didn’t need any further urging. Giving in to her demands, and his own body’s, he thrust into her. Sensation battered him, and he was left stunned at how good the angle felt, how much deeper he got, and how fucking erotic it was to look down and see his cock buried balls-deep in her body.
He grabbed her hips, pulling out, thrusting back. Candace met his strokes, groaning, begging, going mad.
It was wild. Hot. Incredibly pleasurable. When he bent over her to cover her back, and reached around so he could toy with her clit, she came with a loud cry.
He almost followed her, but something made him stop. Yeah, he loved this. Yes, he knew it would go down as one of his favorite things in the entire world.
But he wanted to see her face. Wanted to memorize how she looked when racked with pleasure and totally lost to everything but him.
So without saying anything, he pulled out of her, gently turned her over and settled back between her thighs. She reached for him, encircling his neck, smiling as she pulled him down for a long, slow kiss.
“Amazing,” she whispered against his lips when the kiss ended.
“Yeah. We are.”
She tightened her hold on him, wrapping her legs around his hips as he slid back into her. Their bodies melted together, each of them giving and taking by turns. He lost all sense of time and place, sure only of one thing.
He couldn’t lose her. He’d do whatever it took to keep her in his life forever.
11
OLIVER HAD TAKEN pity on her and given her thirty minutes to get dressed rather than fifteen. Other than that, though, he kept his word, giving her more orgasms in an hour and a half than she’d thought humanly possible. As they rode the elevator down to the ballroom where this evening’s event was being held, Candace had to shift back and forth on her feet, incredibly aware of how tender and well used she felt.
He apparently noticed. Stepping close, he slid an arm around her waist and ducked his head toward hers. “Are you okay?”
“Perfect,” she whispered back, conscious of the other people on the elevator, another couple—middle-aged and well dressed—and a duo who looked like a mother and daughter. Neither of whom could take their eyes off Oliver, who did things to a tux that James Bond would envy.
Good heavens, the man was handsome. Not just hot and sexy, but so amazingly handsome he turned heads—male and female. Tonight she thought he could outshine Tommy, routinely called one of the top ten sexiest men in the world.
Tommy.
Hell.
She hadn’t thought much about him today. Nor had she answered when he’d tried calling a little while ago. She’d been busy, using all of her thirty minutes to clean up, fix her hair and makeup and get dressed. She would call him tomorrow, once she’d willed herself to pack up and head home. Tonight, she didn’t want to think about anyone or anything but Oliver.
When they reached the ballroom, Oliver removed two tickets from his breast pocket and handed them to the person at the door. The minute they walked in, a congenial older gentleman with a barrel chest and very little hair walked over and greeted them. When he heard who she was, he enquired after her grandfather.
“I heard he was laid up—some kind of accident?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. But he’s recovering nicely. He’s supposed to come home from the hospital tomorrow.”
The man nodded absently, then moved on to what she suspected was his real topic of conversation. “Say, I’ve been hearing some stories. Something about a fabulous secret collection of antique vintages?”
The Northern California