What You See (Sons of the Survivalist #3) - Cherise Sinclair Page 0,45
stuff?”
“Just something for fun.” He rubbed his nose against hers and kissed her again. “It’s good for sore muscles—and for other areas, as well. Like lady-bits.”
He ran his fingers around her other nipple, tugging it to a point. When he bent and blew air across the jutting peaks, the sensation of heat and the cool air made her toes curl. He cupped a breast in each hand, then squeezed, tightening the skin, so when he circled a nipple with his tongue and suckled, pleasure shocked through her.
“Bull…”
Never slowing, he moved back and forth between her breasts, sucking, teasing, tugging.
Madonna, she might die of pleasure. Moaning, she ran her fingers down his back, over rippling muscles beneath velvet-smooth skin, down the deep furrow of his spine, to his tight buttocks. Mmm. Twisting slightly, she slid a hand between them and under the waistband of his jeans. He was so hard, so thick that there wasn’t any room in there at all. “That must be very uncomfortable.”
He broke out laughing. “Woman, you have no idea.” He sat up and tucked his fingers under the waistband of her briefs and paused to give her a chance to object.
Object? Not hardly. Her whole body wanted those skilled hands on her pussy. She lifted her hips. His smile flashed, and then her briefs were off and tossed onto the coffee table.
He sat back, studying her body with an open appreciation that sent a flush over her skin. “You look delicious in that position.” He ran a finger from her breast, down her stomach, and…down her right thigh.
She glared. Stronzo. Whatever happened to a man going straight for the target? For a change, it was what she really wanted and…he was going to play?
She grabbed his big-boned wrist—her fingers couldn’t even close around it—and moved his hand to her pussy. “There.”
Oh, bad Frankie. Some men felt threatened by—
“There, hmm?” His mouth quirked.
His unshakable self-confidence was even sexier than his body.
He gripped her ankle, lifted her right leg over his head, and set it down in his lap, so he was seated sideways between her thighs. Reaching over to the bottle on the coffee table, he pumped more lotion into his palm. “I forgot. We’re in the middle of a massage.”
Her mouth dropped open. She wanted sex, not a massage.
Smiling slightly, he ran those big hands up and down her thighs, across her stomach, down again—missing her pussy entirely.
She groaned, and her hips tilted up in demand.
“Really?” A corner of his mouth curved.
His fingers were still slick as he moved from her belly down over her mound—and wasn’t she glad she’d shaved that morning? He slid his fingers up and down the plump outer folds, and the skin began to tingle, reminding her of the strange lotion he’d been using. Slowly, he opened her, exposed her, and slid those lotion-coated heavy fingers right over her throbbing clit.
“Aaaah!” Her hips bucked up, and with one hand over her pelvis, he held her down.
Her legs were kept open with his huge body between them, and he circled a finger around her clit. As the lotion heated the swollen tissues, and her sensitive nub began to tingle, she started to squirm. The feeling was…intense.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
Her gaze was caught by his black eyes, held in the same way he held her hips down.
His fingers never stopped moving. Although his hand was so powerful, his touch was light. Teasingly firmer, then only a brush as he drew all the blood, all her focus to that one spot.
Wait, no, making love should be equal. She ran her hands up and down his arms, over his chest and down.
He slid farther away. “Next time. I want you badly enough that I’ll wait.” He grinned. “It’s a guy thing.”
Without waiting for her answer, he bent down, and his lips closed around her. Between the tingling lotion and his mouth, her whole clit seemed to burst into glorious flames.
She cried out, knew she was making noise, and couldn’t stop.
Chuckling, he ran his jaw over the crease between her thigh and pussy, the goatee a rough scrape on the tender skin, then returned to tormenting her. Flicking licks of his tongue alternated with rough suckling.
“More. More, now.” She shot from aroused to urgently needing to come and grabbed for his hair to pull him closer. To make him do what… Her fingers found only warm skin. No reins.
At her frustrated growl, his head came up. His gaze swept over her and filled with amusement.