She didn’t know how long she was down there, sucking, licking, pumping. When he lifted his hips and thrust into her mouth, his pace quickening, she knew he must be close. She felt his cock pulsing against her tongue and drew him in deep, while shivers of pleasure shimmied up her spine and tickled her skin. She wanted him to explode, wanted to see him come apart, wanted to make him come apart. But to her disappointment, he suddenly yanked her up, and she found herself sprawled on her back as Cooper licked and caressed every inch of her body.
He didn’t need any direction—he simply knew exactly what to do. One hand squeezed and fondled her breasts, his mouth surrounded her nipple, sucking hard. His other hand slid down between her legs, where he palmed her wet core and rubbed until she cried out in pleasure. He pushed one long finger inside her, then a second, a third, moving them in and out and eliciting wave after wave of sheer sensation.
“Don’t come yet,” he rasped against her breast, and then he was gone, off the bed, disappearing through a darkened doorway across the room. A bathroom, she deduced, when he came back a moment later with a condom stretched over his impressive erection.
She figured he’d spread her legs and do his thing, but once more, he lay on his back and made her straddle him. Heart thudding, she slowly brought his cock to her opening.
“No,” he murmured. “Tease me first.”
She wasn’t exactly sure what to do, so she improvised. Grasping him in one hand, she used his cock to rub her slick folds, leaning forward so that her breasts were pressed to his chest. The wiry dark hairs there tickled her nipples. And what she was doing down below teased her as much as it teased him. She ground her clit against his cock and they both moaned loudly. Ripples of impending orgasm danced inside her, threatening to break the surface, and when she finally couldn’t take it a second longer, she seated herself on his cock and started to move, slow and apprehensive at first.
“Harder,” Cooper ordered, gripping her hips with his hands. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
Insult flashed through her. Fuck him like she meant it? Well, he asked for it. She rode him fast and furiously, grabbing one of his hands and placing it between them, forcing him to stroke her aching clit. A flicker of surprise flitted in his eyes, replaced by a glint of satisfaction. He rubbed her with his thumb as she rode him, fisting a hunk of her hair to bring her head down so they could kiss. As their tongues tangled, Maddie closed her eyes and threw self-control into the wind.
She came in a wild, heated rush, digging her nails into Cooper’s shoulders. She moaned and shuddered, lost in a burst of ecstasy that only intensified when she felt him thickening and pulsing inside her. His fist tightened in her hair, hard enough to bring a jolt of pain, but that only heightened the orgasm too.
“Holy fuck,” Cooper choked out when they both went still a minute later.
She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her breath fanning over his damp skin. “So did I pass?” she asked in a muffled voice.
“I think that was an A+ effort, darlin’.” His arms wrapped around her, and a rumble of laughter tickled her ear. “I should write you a fucking recommendation letter.”
Maddie burst out laughing.
Chapter Seven
“Hey, Maddie, it’s me. Again. It’s pretty clear you’re still avoiding me, but sooner or later you’re going to have to call me back. We need to talk about what happened.” With a stroke of inspiration, he finished with, “Never thought you’d run away from a confrontation.”
Owen hung up, his jaw set in determination. She’d have to call back now, what with his insinuation that she was a coward. Nothing pissed Maddie off more than being accused of cowardice.
He supposed he could always drive over to her apartment, but he was kind of apprehensive about seeing her until he gauged how angry she actually was. Besides, the large Victorian she lived in had been converted into four apartments, and if she started hitting him or throwing things, the other tenants would surely hear everything. Which would be embarrassing.
He wondered how mad she was. Like on a scale of one to ten. Where would practically throwing a woman off him before intercourse land on the scale? A five? Seven?
Owen still felt like a total ass for the way he’d handled things. And he still craved that damn woman on some crazy primal level that had left him with a hard-on, even two days later. He just wished she would let him explain, damn it. Tell her that he hadn’t rejected her because he didn’t want her—but because he wanted her too much.
He glanced at the cell phone he’d placed on the kitchen counter, but it lay there, still and silent. She wasn’t calling back.
Groaning, he turned away. He needed a distraction. Maybe there was a preseason game on or something. He drifted into the living room, caught sight of the treadmill by the window and made a beeline for that instead. Exercise. A surefire way to clear his head and rid all traces of desire from his body.