He stopped in front of me and bent his head to capture my mouth. Water dribbled from the ends of his hair, running down my face and my neck and into my dress while he skillfully worked my mouth.
I wasn’t actually nervous, per se. I just didn’t like the idea that, the first time this perfect specimen of a man saw me naked, I was going to be awkwardly struggling out of a dress in a brightly lit hotel bathroom.
I would have preferred a dimly lit bedroom where he walked in after I was already naked and seductively lounging on the bed, strategically posed with my hair fanning out around me.
I quickly got over the lighting issues when he peeled my dress over my head.
His tongue was again tangling with mine when his large hands proved their dexterity by snapping the clasp of my bra. As my bra fell to the floor, I momentarily lost his mouth only to find it at my breasts a blink later. His shoulders were rolled forward, bowing his tall body awkwardly, but it might have been the sexist sight I had ever seen.
I’d seen Quarry without his shirt on thousands of times. Whether he was at the gym working out, in the ring during a fight, walking around our apartment, or just sitting out on our balcony while shooting the shit, Quarry was never wearing a shirt.
Striking, black tribal tattoos covered nearly every inch of his back. I’d always thought they were attractive, but never once had the sight of them caused my knees to buckle.
But, then again, never once had they been hunched over my naked body while he was devouring my breast.
“Oh, God!” I cried, gripping the back of his head for balance.
He groaned, dropping to his knees and switching his attention to my other breast. “Fucking perfect.”
Closing my eyes, I swayed against him. His tongue teased one nipple while his fingers rolled the other.
Pure erotic torture.
My clit pulsed with need.
With his mouth working me toward the edge, it was becoming too much—or, more accurately, not enough.
I guided his hand down my stomach. His eyes flashed up to mine in question. Stepping to the side, I spread my legs wider as my reply. He didn’t delay in dipping between my legs.
My core clenched when he hummed his approval against my breast.
But then it was gone.
His hand disappeared, and then the mouth, and then so did the ground.
With his arms around my thighs, he carried me to the bed. “Fuck the shower,” he cursed under his breath.
I landed on the bed, and a split second later, Quarry’s mouth landed between my legs. He hooked my calves over his shoulders and gripped the tops of my thighs as he devoured me. It was a frenzied feast that alternated between wild licking from top to bottom and back again, only slowing when he thrust his tongue inside my opening, and sucking at my clit before jolting me with an exquisite flick of his tongue.
It was the most unbelievable combination of sensations.
But it wasn’t for me.
This was for Quarry’s pleasure, and judging by the loud growls and purred moans, he was enjoying himself immensely.
It was beginning to drive me insane. Each time I would get close, he’d switch up his technique. The edge of climax evaded me only to reappear, taunting me with an unattainable release seconds later. I was on a sexual bungee cord I couldn’t seem to break.
My frustration was unmistakable, but either he didn’t care or he was too busy ravaging me to notice.
I pulled at his hair—the ache of my clit making the action far rougher than I had intended. Finally, his eyes flipped up, and with one last lick, his mouth disconnected.
“You’re killing me,” I signed, my voice barely able to accompany my hands.
A slow, sexy grin played at his lips. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to come?”
I gave him my best death-stare, but it was rendered worthless when I realized I was also smiling.
He dipped his head and trailed his tongue up to my belly button. “I’d apologize, but you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to taste you.”
My hips lifted off the bed, pleading for him to go back down.
He didn’t—at least, not yet.
After sliding his hands up my stomach, he palmed my breasts, squeezing firmly before gently brushing his thumbs over my nipples.
I greedily arched into his hands.
“I’ve known my entire life that you were beautiful. But this…” He shook his head, at a loss for words. Upon gliding a hand back between my legs, he pushed one finger deep while still rolling my sensitive nipple. His eyes were aimed at my chest when he asked, “You want me to make you come, Liv?” He said my name in what could only be explained as awe.
I did want to come. So fucking badly.
But the way in which he’d said my name, as if he had been in shock that I was actually lying there with him, made me want more.
I no longer wanted the release his fingers or his mouth would surely give me. I wanted the connection of him inside me. His eyes on mine. His heavy weight anchoring me to the bed in the present while our bodies made plans and promises for a future together.
For however long it lasted, I wanted to give Quarry Page all of me.