“Just the sex,” I whisper over her gasp as my finger enters her. The throb of my cock as it begs to be the one doing the fucking. The scrape of her nails up my back. Her moan as I tease her.
My lips are back on hers. My tongue demanding just like my fingers are. “Glad you see things my way.”
And with those words, it’s like a switch has been flipped. Every ounce of hesitancy on her part is gone. She lifts her dress over her head. She undoes her bra and my mouth can’t wait to suck those perfect pink nipples.
Her skin—toned and supple—smells of shampoo and perfume and sex . . . god does it smell like sex. I take her nipple in my mouth and roll my tongue over it before my teeth scrape its tip. My hands shove down her panties and then my underwear all the while doing that stumble-grope-fumble walk backwards to the bed.
When she lies down . . . when I get the full effect of Harlow Nicks nude, it takes my breath away. There are women . . . and then there are women. Harlow is long with curves in all the right places and a tight strip of brown curls atop her pussy, pointing like an arrow to exactly where I want to be. Her thighs glisten with what I’ve already coaxed out of her and her tits are the perfect handful.
Images of what I want to do to her—with her—flicker through my mind as she taunts me with a teasing smile that says she’s waiting. She’s ready. She’s willing.
Every part of me aches to touch and taste and fuck her pussy into oblivion. We’ve had our foreplay in a sense—nights on end sleeping next to each other but not touching—and while I’d be the first guy to volunteer when it comes to dipping my tongue in her well, right now all I can think about is having her, wrapped around me.
It’s going to be brutally painful to take it slow when it comes to her considering how tormented I already am.
But I’m up for the challenge, in more ways than one.
I start with her ankle. Kiss her shin up to her knee. Trace a line with my tongue to her inner thigh. She squirms beneath me, her legs tensing and hands gripping the sheets as my name falls breathlessly from her lips.
And if that’s not enough to make me harder than a rock, her fucking scent does me in. It’s sex—pure goddamn sex and when I breathe her in as I press a kiss to that strip of curls. The hold I have on my restraint snaps.
“Christ, Harlow,” I groan as I crawl up her body, the head of my cock brushing against her skin as I go, its own subtle form of torture.
Her fingers slide up my chest as I dip down and capture her nipples in my mouth. First the right. Then the left. The palm of my hands taking over for me as I kiss my way up her collarbone and then under her neck to her ear.
“I’m dying here, Harlow,” I murmur against her ear and then moan as her hand wraps around my dick and begins to stroke. “I need you. To be in you. To fill you. To fuck you.”
“Yes, please!” Her thumb rubs over my head as her fingers squeeze my shaft and when she leans up and kisses me, I know she’s game. That our foreplay has been enough for her.
Hell if I’m not a man who prides himself on making sure a woman comes at least once before I jacket up, but this time—with her assent—I’m definitely not going to say no.
Our lips meet again. “Condom?”
“Drawer. Top left,” she says.
I grab the box and then curse when I see it’s sealed in plastic. Just one more barrier, one added second until I can have her.
And one more affirmation that she really was sick the other night and not off with her man of the moment like I was miserably thinking she was.
Harlow’s throaty laugh fills my ears as I lean back on my haunches between her thighs and struggle with the box.
“Here,” she says as she sits up, legs astride mine and takes the box from me. Within a second, her fingernail slides against the seal so it breaks. Her eyes hold mine as she takes the packet of foil, tears it apart and withdraws the ring of rubber.
“Can we speed this unsexy process up so we can get to the sex-y part of it?”
“By all means,” she says as she hands it to me and then lays back onto the bed of pillows at her back. I look down to roll the condom up my dick. Then my hands still as I notice hers sliding between her thighs.
Her sigh fills the room as she parts herself and slowly rubs back and forth over her clit. Her back arches some. Her legs tense against mine.
I watch her fingertip slide down her seam, coat itself, and then move back up to rub some more. Another groan.
My eyes flash up to hers to find them trained on me. Inviting me. Asking me. Telling me it’s my turn. And when her teeth bite into her bottom lip and her eyes close in pleasure, I’m done for. Gone.
Within a beat, her hips are in my hands, my dick is lined up at her entrance and I’m pushing into her inch by fucking inch.
Warm. Tight. Wet. Heaven.
Those four words fill my mind before my thoughts turn to nothing and desire wins the war on restraint.