Oh, yes I was.
Just as her lust had followed her into dreamland, it followed her back out. Caught in a fit of need, she grasped his head and pulled him to her, not caring about her breath or decorum or guilt. She only knew she couldn’t wait any longer, and she wouldn’t let him make her. Already, she trembled on the edge of orgasm, having been brought there by dream Jared, but he had nothing on real-life Jared.
“I was dreaming of you,” she whispered against his lips.
He groaned, only inflaming her further. “I was dreaming of you too.”
Starla let her hand skim down his rock-hard abs and found evidence that he was telling the truth. He was so hard, it drew a whimper from her throat, and her touch drew an answering growl from him. “What was I doing in your dream?” she asked.
“Riding me.”
God, she couldn’t even wait to get this man under her, to get him inside her. “I think I can make that a reality for you.”
“I want to see you,” he breathed into her mouth.
She wanted that too, so much. It was so dark. “See me, then.” But the few seconds he was away clicking on the lamp were agonizing. Soft, warm light flooded the room, highlighting the outer curves of his muscles and becoming lost in the dips and recesses of his body. He looked edible—she probably looked a hot mess with bedhead and her nightshirt pushed haphazardly up her body. Before he could lie down again, she sat up and trailed her mouth down his taut abdomen while he was still on his knees, following the line of dark hair to the waistband of his pajama pants. His breath hissed in; his hand drifted down on the top of her head, soothing, encouraging, nothing of force or selfishness in its weight.
Oh yes, this was what she’d wanted, what she’d hoped for since seeing him at her door tonight. Gently tugging his pants down, she took great joy in watching the waistband hang on his hard cock, even greater joy in watching the latter spring free, thick and gorgeous and all for her. Wrapping a hand around the base, she angled the head toward her lips, listening for his reaction with every touch. Her heart sang in triumph with each groan and growl he uttered. She wanted to drive him crazy, push all memories of any past love out of his head and heart for good, so that there was only room for her. One day, if they didn’t work out, she would be the one he couldn’t get over. She would be the one who haunted his heart, whom he compared every other woman to. It seemed cruel to wish that on someone, but if only they could last forever, it would be beautiful.
She stroked and teased, licked and sucked, showing him everything in her bag of tricks until sweat broke out on him, and she finally pulled him so deep down her throat, her air cut off and his hands fisted in her hair, and he seemed to want to pull her away but couldn’t make himself. Her name falling in rough ecstasy from his lips was the most precious sound she’d ever heard. More, she wanted more of him. Clenching her fingers in the firm muscles of his ass, she pushed him even deeper. Her * ached in response, jealous of her mouth getting all the fun.
Suddenly, he pushed her away and fell back on one hand, the most gorgeous creation on God’s green earth with his cock even bigger and harder now and an angry red from the suction of her mouth. She expected him to come, but he didn’t—he was only catching his breath. “Fuck, Starla,” he rasped, then exhaled long and deep, his mouth forming a sexy O.
She winked at him, lying back with her knees spread wide. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Fuck Starla. Fuck her now.”
“Oh, baby. If I go in now, I won’t last three seconds.”
“I don’t care.”
His gaze was hot and heavy on the scrap of fabric between her legs. She felt that look, felt her body’s reaction to it as if it were a physical caress he gave her. “I do,” he said. When he pushed her knees apart and dove in, she nearly came off the bed. Heated breath rushed over her damp panties, tickled her inner thighs. He licked her and sucked her, leaving that cotton panel as a barrier between them, getting it wetter. She reached down to move it out of his way, to feel the slick heat of that tongue. He grabbed her hand and held it fast, his grip as good as iron. The same fate met her other hand when it wandered down—really she’d just wanted to be held down by him, helpless, dominated. Her thighs pressed wide by his broad shoulders, her arms immobile, she was dying of denied pleasure.