She came up behind him and pressed her lips against his bare shoulder. She did like his mustache, maybe because it framed his beautiful mouth. He had a strong chin and a chiseled jawline. Even the blade of his nose was handsome.
He turned around, feasting his eyes on her. She was wearing nothing but a towel, like him. He slid his hands under the damp fabric and gripped her hips. She shivered at the feel of his callused fingertips on her skin. When he bent his head to kiss her, she twined her arms around his neck and lifted her lips to his. This was what she wanted.
Just this.
No talking. No crying. No well-meant proposals or romantic declarations. Her heart couldn’t take any more stress. She didn’t want to think about what had happened to Armando this afternoon, or where Ian would go tomorrow. They couldn’t make plans for the future. She didn’t need a ring or promises or tender words. She just needed him to make love to her—all night long.
He filled his hands with her bare bottom and buried his tongue in her mouth. She moaned, parting her lips for his kiss. She couldn’t get enough of him. His taste, his heat, his probing tongue. His mouth was like magic. So were his big hands. She wanted them all over her body. Her towel fell away, exposing her completely.
He examined her sleek curves as if it was the first time he’d seen them. She didn’t try to hide herself from his gaze. Her nipples pebbled into fine points, drawing his attention. He moistened his lips in appreciation. He seemed to like the flare of her hips and the dark triangle between her thighs. His erection jutted at the front of his towel, large and stiff. With a strangled growl, he lifted her atop the dresser and kissed her again. He parted her thighs with his hands as his tongue delved deep into her mouth. She clung to his shoulders, already lost. When he lowered his mouth to her breasts, she arched her spine in invitation.
“Yes,” she gasped. His tongue swirled over one taut nipple, and then the other. “God yes.”
He sucked harder, worrying her flesh with his teeth. She squirmed on top of the dresser, amazed by her instant arousal. Her body was on fire. Liquid heat throbbed between her thighs. She spread her legs wider, eager for his touch.
He hadn’t smiled at her clumsiness before. He smiled now, enjoying her shameless response. “You want my mouth on you?”
She flushed at the question.
He trailed two fingers along her inner thigh. “Do you?”
She nodded, quivering with anticipation.
He sank to his knees before her. “Where?”
She groaned.
“Show me.”
She smoothed her hand down her belly and traced her sex with her fingertips. She was moist and swollen, aching for him. His breath caught in his throat, so she went a step further and slid one finger inside. He watched her as if mesmerized. When she removed her finger, he sucked it hotly. Then he replaced her finger with two of his own, thrusting in and out. At the same time, he flicked his tongue over the tight bud at the top of her sex. She couldn’t believe how good it felt. She started mewling and riding his hand, straining toward completion.
“Acábame,” she panted.
He licked and sucked at her sensitive flesh until she exploded against his mouth. He gentled her with a soft kiss as her tremors subsided.
“That was fast,” she said, pushing the damp hair off her forehead.
He smirked in satisfaction and rose to his feet. His towel had slipped off while he’d been busy. He wrapped a hand around his erection, which was straining toward her, ruddy and stiff. “I’ll make you come slower the next time, if you prefer.”
“I want to do everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t know if they’d get another chance to be together, but she knew she’d never feel this way again. He was the only man for her. One night was all they had. She wanted to make the most of it. She wanted the memory to last a lifetime.
“We can’t do every sex act in one night.”
“How many can we do?”
He gave himself a slow stroke while she watched. “I’m good for a few rounds, I guess. What would you like to try?”
“I want my mouth on you.”
He groaned. “Okay.”
“I want the pounding too.”
“All right.”
She smiled at his easy agreement. “Can we do every position?”
“Not without killing me.”
“Which is your favorite?”
He hesitated, but only for a moment. “From behind.”
Her breath quickened at the mental image. “Not face to face?”
“I like face to face,” he said, cupping her cheek. He rubbed his thumb over her parted lips. “I like any position with you. Me on top, you on top. In the shower. Against the wall.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes to what?”
“All of those.”
He kissed her again, slowly. His tongue touched hers and retreated. She framed his face with both hands and kissed the edge of his mouth, the soft bristles on his upper lip, his smooth jawline. She licked the side of his neck, where a pulse throbbed. Then she wrapped her hand around his erection. It felt hot and alive in her palm. She squeezed the shaft, stroking him up and down. His brow furrowed, as if the pleasure hurt.
She slid off the dresser and dropped to her knees. “I’ve never done this before,” she said, moistening her lips.
“There’s not much to it.”
“Do I kiss it, or just suck?”
He threaded his fingers through her hair. “Anything but biting.”
She grasped the base of his shaft and angled him toward her mouth. She’d never seen a penis this close before. There was a bead of fluid at the tip. She touched her tongue to him, tasting salt. He trembled at this brief contact. She wanted to rain kisses all over his hot skin and cradle him to her breasts, but she was afraid of doing it wrong. So she cut to the chase and closed her mouth around him, sucking gently. He seemed pretty excited about her technique. His low moan of encouragement helped her relax. She moved her mouth up and down, taking him deeper.