The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2)

I exhaled heavily and cleared my throat. “K-kiss me.”


My head lay against the pillows as he braced himself above me and lowered his mouth to mine. His lips moved slowly, almost hesitant, but when I slid my tongue against his he groaned and deepened the kiss. I felt myself heating up, a slickness forming between my thighs, and in no time at all I was panting, my clit swollen and aching for pressure.

“What do you want now?” Sean whispered and my arousal heightened.

“Kiss me,” I repeated the same command as before.

His mouth curved in a smile. “I am kissing you.”

“Somewhere else,” I said shyly and his eyes darkened. I quickly added, “But no teeth. Not yet. Just your lips.”

“As you wish,” he murmured and began planting soft, barely there kisses down my body. Once his head was between my legs he paused, like he was wary of getting things wrong again.

“B-blow on me, gently,” I said, throat catching.

His lips formed an O as he softly blew and I moaned so loudly I’d be surprised if Broderick didn’t hear it next door.

“Lick my clit,” I went on, my entire body flushing with embarrassment. It felt strange to be instructing him, but at the same time it was a massive turn-on. He was like an obedient servant, waiting on my every command.

Sean Cassidy as my own personal sexual servant . . . I wondered if I could get him to peel me some grapes afterward.

Bringing his mouth closer, his tongue snaked out and he licked me. My body bucked, my clit pulsing at the contact, and his hand went to my hipbone to hold me in place. My eyes met his and I realized he was waiting for further instructions.

My voice was throaty and strained. “Now use your tongue to draw circles around it.”

“Gently?”

“Yes.”

He did as I asked and I moaned again. A low, gravelly hum emanated from the back of his throat as he continued to lick circles around my clit.

“Oh God,” I breathed. “Now a little faster.”

My thighs clenched tight and I knew if he kept this up it wouldn’t take long for me to come.

“Look at you,” Sean whispered, eyes blazing.

“Put your fingers inside me,” I said and he complied.

“Like this?” he asked, moving two fingers slowly in and out, gently.

“Yes,” I answered, my voice suddenly high-pitched.

I closed my eyes, feeling an orgasm building. Sean’s fingers were hitting just the right spot, and combined with his circles on my clit, I found myself panting and shaking as I came violently on his tongue. I let out a long, satiated sigh, then opened my eyes to find him watching me intently.

I collapsed into the pillows and threw an arm over my face, slightly embarrassed by his close inspection. He climbed up the bed and pulled my arm back so he could look at my face.

He seemed fascinated. I stared back at him, unsure why he was looking at me like he was.

“What?” I whispered, self-conscious.

“You came,” he said, his voice awed.

I couldn’t help letting out a small laugh. “Yes, that’s generally what happens when you go down on a woman as fantastically as you just did, Sean.”

He huffed a gruff breath and grabbed my face, kissing me again. I tasted myself on his tongue. “I could get addicted that.”

“To what?”

“To giving you orgasms.”

I laughed. “Well, who am I to deny you?”

He smiled, wide and bright, and kissed me some more before murmuring against my mouth, “I want to fuck you now.”

I hummed my agreement, my body a pliant mass beneath him. His cock nudged at my opening and it felt amazing, but then I started, realizing he wasn’t wearing any protection.

“Sean, wait. We need to get a condom.”

“Christ,” he swore and held himself up. “Are they in your bag?”

I instantly deflated. “No. I didn’t bring any. I hadn’t planned for . . . this.”

He studied me, brows drawing together. “No, I don’t suppose you did.” A pause and then a spark lit behind his eyes. “Actually, I think I have one in the back pocket of my jeans.”

“Oh?” I said questioningly.

He grinned. “You can never be too prepared.”

“You were planning on getting laid during the hike, weren’t you?”

Pulling the small foil packet from his jeans, he returned to the bed. His grin didn’t falter. “Well, you are a picnic professional. Why not add another skill to your belt?”

“I don’t aspire to gain skills that could get me arrested,” I answered, flirtation in my voice.

“No, I imagine your thievery gets you into enough trouble as it is,” he shot back.

My smile fell, and a sharp stab of pain sliced through me. I wasn’t sure why, perhaps because we’d just been intimate, but the careless way he made fun of an addiction I truly struggled with had me feeling less than enthusiastic to continue.

I sat up on the bed, pulling the covers around myself to hide my nudity.