He tasted like heaven. A hint of mint, of the dinner they’d shared, of sin served up on a golden platter. One of his large hands slid down her back and pulled her closer, until she was forced onto her knees, straddling his hips.
Her skin was on fire as he changed the angle of the kiss and his hands became more urgent. For a second she wondered if he was too weak for sex, then quickly dismissed the thought when he tugged her down and she settled on that monster erection she’d drooled over before. If he didn’t have the strength for it, she’d do all the work. No way she was stopping now.
Her hands took on a life of their own as she examined his muscular torso and kissed him back. Her fingers ran down his black shirt to the hem, then up under so she could feel his chiseled abs and the silky smooth skin of his belly. His cock twitched against her, and she pressed against it in answer, wanting nothing more but to feel him deep inside her.
He growled his approval. His kiss turned frantic. Possessive. His hands rushed to the buttons on her jeans. “I need to touch you,” he managed between breaths. “Need to feel if you’re wet.”
She was soaked, but she couldn’t take the time away from kissing him to tell him that. As soon as his fingers found the button at her waistband, something inside her snapped. An urgent need she’d never experienced before. Suddenly she was wiggling against her jeans, helping him in any way she could.
He wrenched the zipper free, pushed her back just enough so he could slide one hand inside. He bypassed her underwear and went straight to her skin, and she gasped at the first touch.
His finger found her slick knot, already hard and aroused. He rubbed over and around until she broke free of his mouth, threw her head back and moaned in ecstasy.
His lips slid over her throat. He bit down, and a lick of pain shot through her. Then he suckled the spot until she was moaning all over again. “Oh, meli. You are so wet.” His finger slid lower. Deeper. Inside. He groaned against her pulse. “And so tight.”
Casey couldn’t speak. Could barely move. Her release was coming and she was powerless to stop it. Gripping his shoulders with both hands, she tightened around his finger and let go.
But just as the wave was about to hit, his hand slid free and the pressure eased. He growled low in his throat and grasped the loose denim at her hips. “Need these off. Now.” He pushed her quickly to her feet and stripped her free of her jeans in one quick swoop.
She didn’t have time to protest, and should have been embarrassed, standing in front of him in only her sweater and low-rise boy shorts, but she wasn’t. As he lowered his head and kissed her again, she gave herself over to him and kissed him back while he pulled her close and that erection stabbed into her belly.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered.
He drew her bottom lip into his mouth in approval. While he took his fill, she reveled in his kiss, brushed her hand down his torso and slid it palm up into his boxer briefs. He groaned long and deep against her mouth as her fingers wrapped around his arousal. Velvet and steel filled her hand, raw power and the promise of mindless pleasure. She stroked up the shaft, circled the head, and marveled at the control she held over him as his big body shuddered against her.
His hands brushed her breasts, slid under her sweater and into her bra. Her nipples tightened as one rough finger grazed the tip. His mouth nipped her jaw, kissed its way across her skin and settled on the soft skin beneath her ear as he played with her breasts and brought her to new heights of sexual arousal.
Her strokes grew longer, bolder with every touch from his hands. On the downstroke she slid her fingers lower to grasp the twin weights beneath.
He groaned against her neck. “You’re playing with fire. In a moment I won’t be able to stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop. I want to know what you feel like when you come.”
Whatever restraint he’d been exercising broke with her words. Her sweater was quickly wrenched over her head, her bra ripped free of her breasts as if it were paper. He bent, and his mouth captured first the right nipple and then the left, until she thought she would explode from just that attention.
Just as she was about to beg him to finish her, he turned her quickly and pushed her to her knees on the seat of the couch. One big hand pressed her torso into the cushions so she was leaning over the back of her grandmother’s blue-and-orange-checked afghan.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he growled at her back. His weight depressed the sofa as he braced one knee on the cushions between her legs and nudged her thighs wider. “I can’t wait to find out if you’re as tight as you were in my dream.”