“If I agree, then that’s when you say my ego is out of control.”
She licked her lips. “Looks like you’ll have to find a way to shut me up, then.”
“You’re definitely giving me ideas.”
Judging by the gravelly tone in his voice, just the right kind of ideas. She tightened her grip on his cock, stroking it from the base to the head as pre-come pooled on the tip. It wasn’t an invitation she was going to decline. Keeping her tongue flat and wide, she lapped it up as she watched him let his head drop back as he groaned again.
“You can’t stop there,” he said, not a plea but not quite an order.
Tormenting him at a time like this was just the sort of thing she loved to do and he got off on. “Are we negotiating?”
“No.” One word. One order.
Her core clenched. “Good.”
She curled her fingers around his thick forearms and moved them so his hands cupped either side of her head then opened her mouth, wrapped her lips around his swollen head, and took him in as far as she could before retreating. His groan echoed in her ears as she reached behind and cupped his hard ass. That sound, the one that said he was already lost in the moment. God, she was going to miss it, but if she thought about that then she’d miss these last few hours with him and she wasn’t willing to give that up. She’d have the rest of her life to remember.
“You’re killing me.” His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling in some places, and he joined her efforts and slid his cock through her parted lips. “And you’re still wearing all your clothes.”
She wouldn’t be for long, but she was enjoying this too much to stop now so she sucked him deeper until he filled her mouth completely and the head of his cock dipped down into her throat. Relishing the way his ass tightened under her fingers, she kept it up, taking him in and letting him go, until he held her head firm and withdrew from her mouth with an audible pop.
“I’m beginning to think you’re an exhibitionist,” she teased.
“All I’m thinking is that you have too many clothes on,” he said, his voice as hard as the rest of him. “Take ’em off.”
If she was a more patient woman, she’d make him wait—or have him tear them off of her like he’d done to her panties. But that time was passed. She wasn’t about to deny either of them what they really wanted, not tonight. She slid her jeans and panties down over her hips and then took off her tank top as she stepped out of the material around her ankles.
…
Watching Clover strip was like watching the sun rise after the longest, coldest night of the year. It made the whole world a better place. It made time stand still, and it made him want to be a better man so he’d be worthy of touching even a single inch of her soft skin.
“Jesus, you’re beautiful.”
“I hope you’re not planning to just look,” she said, feathering her fingers across her tits.
“Only for a little bit longer.”
If this was their last night together—and despite what he knew was the right thing to do, he wasn’t willing to agree to that right now—he was going to look his fill, put it to memory. The way her blond hair fell to her shoulders, not long enough to reach the rosy tips of her hard nipples. The flare of her hip as her body curved out from the pinch of her waist. The line of six freckles on the back of her thigh pointing up to her perfect ass. All of that was amazing, but it wasn’t what he really saw when he looked at her standing tall and proud in front of him, daring him to look his fill. It was what he’d seen of her before. The way she’d laughed so loud at one of the flea market dealer’s corny jokes that everyone around them turned to look. The ease with which she jumped into new situations without the slightest hesitation. The tired smile she gave him and the soft, satisfied sigh she made after they were both wrecked from brain-depleting orgasms that made him want to do it all over again just to see and hear it again.
Hudson had warned him about getting distracted, but Sawyer knew he was way past that for all the absolutely no good it did him. She had adventures to go on that didn’t involve him or his big-picture vision, and while part of him—that selfish, shitty part of him—wanted to keep her with him, he couldn’t do it because his brother was right. It would cost him too much, just not in the way Hudson meant or Sawyer wanted to admit—even to himself.
“Enough lookie-loo time,” she said, closing the distance between them.
Her fingertips gliding down the middle of his chest broke him out of his daze.
He grabbed her wrist before she could get to his happy trail and he lost the will to set some ground rules. “This will be slow.” He lowered her arm to her side and let go. “There will be foreplay.” He dragged the pad of his thumb across her full bottom lip. “There will be kissing.” He dipped his head lower, stopping just shy of her mouth. “There will be no negotiating.”
Of course, he never said it would be gentle or sweet, so when he kissed her he did it like a man staking a claim because tonight Clover was his. Her lips parted and he swept his tongue inside, tasting her and teasing her until she sank against him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Fuck, she was soft in all the places he was hard and aching. His hands roamed over her smooth skin, imprinting on her in an invisible script that said all the things he could not.
Her hands were everywhere—sliding down his spine, squeezing his ass, and roaming across any inch of skin she could reach—as they kissed, taking everything from each other they could and giving back just as much. It wasn’t enough. He needed to feel her everywhere so he loosened his hold on her and they slid to the blanket. He broke the kiss, tracing his lips across the line of her jaw and down the long column of her throat.
“Sawyer.” Her plea.
“Yes.” His answering promise.
He cupped her tits, brought them higher and lowered his mouth to them and circled his tongue around her pebbled nipples, first one and then the other. Answering her moan, he grazed his teeth across one nipple before drawing it into his mouth and sucking hard. She cried out, her fingers gripping his hair. So he did it again and again until she’d wrapped her legs around one of his and rubbed her wet folds against his thigh in search of relief.
“What do you want, Clover?”
“Touch me.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“Here?” He slid his fingers down her side, following the dip and expanse of her waist and hip.
She may have meant her frustrated groan to hurry him along, but it did the opposite. They both might be cursing later but he planned on drawing this out as long as he could stand it, which judging by the tingling ache in his balls would definitely not be as long as he wanted. Still, he caressed the gentle curve of her belly, going low enough for her to let out a whimper of gratitude before traveling upward and rolling one hard nipple.
“Touch me.”
“Where?”