She sucked his tip gently before taking him almost to the back of her throat. Groaning again, Matt cupped her head and gave an upwards thrust. She moaned, the sound vibrating through his cock. She’d had his clothes off the second they stepped into her apartment, and as irritated as he’d been then, he felt none of that irritation now. Instead, he leaned his head against the headboard of her bed and closed his eyes, losing himself in the remarkable sensations she produced in his body.
His eyelids popped open when her mouth left him, but she didn’t leave him in the lurch. She just shimmied up his naked body, rolled a condom on his stiff shaft and lowered herself onto him. The moment her wet heat clamped over him, he wrapped his arms around her slender form and pulled her toward him.
“I need to taste you,” he muttered hoarsely.
Savannah cupped her breasts and brought them to his mouth. He devoured one, then the other, licking and sucking her pearly-pink nipples while she rode him in a slow, lazy rhythm. Her skin tasted like saltwater, and the still-damp hair streaming down her shoulders had a slight curl to it. She was the most beautiful fucking woman he’d ever seen, and a fresh dose of arousal flooded his groin.
“See how much better this is,” she murmured, bending down to kiss him. “Who needs dating?”
If he weren’t on the verge of losing control, he would’ve been annoyed with the throaty remark, but as it was, he couldn’t concentrate on anything but the feel of that tight pussy squeezing the hell out of his dick.
“Faster, darlin’,” he said, gripping her hips. “Make yourself come before I explode.”
With a sexy little smile, she did what he asked, grinding her lower body against his in a suddenly reckless pace. His breathing became labored, a tense knot of impending release coiling in his body. Savannah rode him hard and fast, but still he held back, watching the hazy desire swimming in her gray eyes, waiting for the moment her lips parted to let out a wild cry. Her inner muscles gripped his cock as she lost herself in orgasm, and the knot of tension in his groin snapped apart and pleasure seized his balls. His climax seared into him, the incredible burn spreading through his body until every muscle, every limb was infused with pleasure.
Savannah collapsed on top of him. Her hair tickled his chin. He could feel her heartbeat hammering against his chest.
“Why does it just seem to get better?” Her breath moistened his shoulder.
He was wondering the same damn thing. As much as he didn’t like Savannah’s “first thrills” mentality, he understood it. After half a dozen times, he got bored of the woman in his bed. The sex just lost some of its passionate appeal after a while. But not with this woman. With Savannah, each time felt like the first time.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” he said gruffly.
She lifted her head to peek up at him. “A sign of what?”
“That you should be more open-minded to this dating thing.”
Her hand slid between their sweat-coated bodies to squeeze his condom-covered dick. “I’m more open-minded to this thing.”
Making a disapproving sound with his tongue, he reached down and firmly moved her hand. “No way. You don’t get the little soldier again until after the next date.”
She burst out in gales of laughter. “You have a nickname for your penis?”
“No,” he lied.
Her laughter died, replaced by a groan of frustration. “You’re seriously sticking to this ridiculous plan?”
“Yep. One round of sex for every date.”
“You’re a sadist.”
“Yeah, but you still like me.”
Savannah sat up with a thoughtful look. Pink splotches covered her breasts, chafed from his stubble. He kind of liked the sight, knowing he’d marked her this way.
“If we order Chinese food, does that count as a date?” she inquired.
He mulled it over. “Sure.”
“And then afterwards we can do this again?”
“That’s the rule.”
“Fine.” Her arm shot out to the cordless phone sitting on the bedside table. “Let’s have some dinner so I can play with the little soldier.”
“This is perfect,” Annabelle exclaimed, marveling over the sample centerpiece Savannah had created. They’d agreed for Annabelle to come by the shop at ten in the morning in order to approve or ask for a redo of Savannah’s work. Approval seemed to be the conclusion. So far, Annabelle loved everything, including the sketches Savannah had done of the orchids twining around the delicate white birch archway that would serve as the altar.
Annabelle pulled out her Blackberry and snapped a few photos of the centerpiece, then clicked a couple of buttons. “I’m just sending these to Jeannine. She was happy with the description I gave her, but I’d like to give her a visual so she can suggest changes if she wants.”
As it turned out, the bride agreed with Annabelle’s assessment, quickly texting back PERFECT.
Savannah experienced a burst of pride. She’d worked hard on the arrangement, and she was glad her efforts had been successful. She’d dreaded having to redo the centerpiece, particularly because of the vague details the bride had described. Now she wouldn’t have to.
“Did you order the silk for the head table panels?” Annabelle asked as she tucked her Blackberry into the pocket of her loose brown Capris.