“And you missed me, too,” he purred with masculine satisfaction, the tip of his middle finger rimming my cleft. “You’re swollen and wet for me.”
He pulled my legs over his shoulders and licked between my folds, soft and provocative laps of hot velvet against my sensitive flesh. My hands fisted in the sheet, my chest heaving as he circled my clit with the tip of his tongue, then nudged the hypersensitive knot of nerves. I keened, my hips moving restlessly into the devious torment, my muscles tightening with the clawing need to come.
The light, teasing flutters were driving me insane, giving me just enough to make me writhe but not enough to get me off. “Gideon, please.”
“Not yet.”
He tortured me, coaxing my body to the brink of orgasm, and then letting me slide back down. Over and over. Until sweat misted my skin and my heart felt like it would burst. His tongue was tireless and diabolical, cleverly focusing on my clit until a single stroke would set me off, then moving lower to thrust into me. The soft, shallow plunges were maddening, the flickering against the nerve-laden tissues making me desperate enough to beg shamelessly.
“Please, Gideon…let me come…I need to come, please.”
“Shh, angel…I’ll take care of you.”
He finished me with a tenderness that made the orgasm roll through me like a crashing wave, building and swelling and spreading through me in a warm rush of pleasure.
He threaded his fingers with mine when he came over me again, restraining my arms. The head of his cock aligned with the slick entrance of my body and he pushed inexorably into me. I moaned, shifting to accommodate the heavy surge of his penis.
Gideon’s breath gusted hard and humid against my throat, his big frame trembling as he slid carefully inside me. “You’re so soft and warm. Mine, Eva. You’re mine.”
I wrapped my legs around his hips, welcoming him deeper, feeling his buttocks flex and release against my calves as he demonstrated to my body that it would indeed take his thick length all the way to the root.
With our hands linked, he took my mouth and began to move, gliding in and out with languid skill, the tempo precise and relentless yet smooth and easy. I felt every rock-hard inch of him, felt the unmistakable reiteration that every inch of me was his to possess. He drove the message home repeatedly until I was gasping against his mouth, thrashing restlessly beneath him, my hands bloodless from the strength of my grip on his.
He spoke heated praise and encouragement, telling me how beautiful I was…how perfect I felt to him…how he’d never stop…couldn’t stop. I came with a sharp cry of relief, vibrating with the ecstasy of it, and he was right there with me. His pace quickened for several slamming thrusts; then he climaxed with a hiss of my name, spilling into me.
I sank lax into the mattress, sweaty and boneless and replete.
“I’m not done,” he whispered darkly, adjusting his knees to increase the force of his thrusts. The pace remained expertly measured, each plunge staking a claim—your body exists to serve me.
Biting my lip, I fought back the sounds of helpless pleasure that might’ve broken the tranquility of the night…and betrayed the frightening depths of emotion I was beginning to feel for Gideon Cross.
Gideon found me in the shower the next morning. He strode into the master bath gloriously nude, moving with that sleek confident grace I’d admired from the beginning. His hair framed his face and shoulders in a sexy disheveled mane, a look that screamed a woman had clenched the rough black silk in greedy hands. Watching the flexing of his muscles as he moved, I didn’t even pretend not to stare at the magnificent package between his legs.
Despite the heat of the water, my nipples beaded tight and goose bumps raced across my skin.