His tongue glued itself to the roof of his mouth. His balls pulled up close to his body. And his dick flexed and bowed as another drop of pre-ejaculate rolled over his heated crown to dampen the waistband of his shorts.
She was beautiful from the top of her dark head to the tips of her sparkly toes. Beautiful in the way only a woman in her prime sexual years could be. Gone was the skinny, tomboyish angularity of youth. She was all soft curves and smooth skin. Narrow waist. Flaring hips. And red lace that covered creamy mounds of flesh.
Their breaths were ragged as they stared at each other, wanting each other. Their eyes hot as they devoured inches of flesh and sought more. She caught her lower lip between her teeth when, with one finger, he slowly traced the edge of one cup, savoring the contrast between her silky skin and the lacy material. Savoring the moment before he pulled down the cup and revealed her, like a kid opening his last Christmas present, trying to draw the moment out for as long as possible.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, trailing his finger over the strap, gently pulling it from her shoulder.
“I could say the same about you.” She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his arms, across his chest. The blood beneath his skin rose to her delicate touch until every inch of him was vibrating, even the torn muscles in his leg. When she feathered her fingers over his nipples, causing the centers to contract into tight nubs of pleasure, he hissed. And when she used the edge of her thumbnail to gently abrade the skin, he begged for mercy with one breath and egged her on with the next.
He wanted to stand there, just stand there and let her touch him, but his control was dangling by a thread. And before it snapped, before reason left him, he wanted to see her. Appreciate the subtle nuances that made her Samantha.
The female form in all its glorious incarnations had always brought him pleasure. There was nothing in the world, to his mind, more marvelous than a woman. And a woman being ridden by lust? One who was soft and sexy in her need? Forget about it. That was the closest thing he’d ever seen to heaven.
“I want to look at you. All of you,” he told her.
“Then look.” She crossed her ankles behind his thighs and pulled him tight against her. She was so unabashedly sensual. So brazenly wanton.
His eyes crossed when the heated head of his dick kissed the warm, soft flesh of her bare belly. His own wetness slicked her skin, and the satiny feel of it must have turned her on, because she moaned, low and long, and once again wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to press her mouth to his.
There was nothing gentle in her kiss, nothing hesitant. Just female need. Just a woman’s demand.
He gave in to it. He couldn’t not give in to it. As if he were a junkie taking his first hit, Samantha’s initial kiss had caused an addiction in him. Now, the exotic taste of her ran hot in his blood. He craved her. He needed her.
He met her kisses with everything that was in him—all the fight, all the knowledge, all the passion. And still it wasn’t enough. He wanted to devour her, consume her, become so much a part of her that it would be impossible to tell where she started and he ended.
Her catching breaths urged him onward. Each flick of her tongue between his teeth felt like a benediction. Samantha was a star, burning bright and hot in his arms. Shining all around him until the darkness inside him had nowhere to hide. He was washed clean by her glow. Doubts? Gone. Self-pity? Gone.
It was just her. Just glorious, wonderful Samantha clinging to him so tightly that he felt every breath she took, every beat of her wild heart.
He couldn’t wait another minute.
Never breaking the suctioned wonder of their mouths, he softly pulled her remaining bra strap from her shoulder. Using his free hand, he reached behind her back to unhook her bra. But his fingers fumbled with the task, shocking him. He hadn’t bumbled a bra in years, knew every kind of closure and snap there was and could undo them without thought. But now, when it mattered most, he botched the job like a horny teenager trying to cop his first feel.
He knew why. He was shaking. She made him shake. With need. With desire. It was too much…and not enough. Part of him wondered if it would ever be enough.
Get out of your own head, you idiot!
Right. Sound advice. He made a second attempt at her bra.
Success!
The closure popped open, and she shivered when he carefully pulled the scrap of lace from her body, tossing it aside. And then, with a nipping kiss to the corner of her swollen mouth, he lifted his head and did what he wanted to do. He…looked.
Fuck. Me.
The air wheezed from his lungs. The tips of his ears burned hot. His whole body thrummed with tension.
She was lovely. Her breasts weren’t too large, but they weren’t too small either. Like Goldilocks and the Three Bears, he had finally found a woman who was just right. Her flesh was dewed with the sweat of desire. Her breasts were heavier on the bottom than on the top, causing them to point slightly toward the ceiling, toward his devouring eyes. And her rosy nipples were the size of quarters, furled tight around their centers.
When she breathed, those creamy mounds rose and fell. It occurred to him that she was exactly where he had wanted her earlier. She was on the island. All but naked. And if he had his way, he’d be hammering away between her pretty thighs, emptying himself into her very soon.
“Please, Ozzie,” she rasped, reaching out to him, taking his hand and guiding it toward her. “I want you to touch me. I need you to touch me.”
Her voice was a stroke against his balls. Her words a warm, wet mouth devouring the head of his cock.
He never lost control. Never. Not even with the first woman he’d ever touched. But Samantha made him crazy. Made him lose the ability to reason. To think. To do anything but feel…
The smooth weight of her breast in his palm.
The hot flush of her creamy skin beneath his fingers.
The hard jut of her nipples as he feathered the rough pads of his thumbs over the tips.
She hissed and let her head fall back. His heavy erection ached at the sight. Now she was an offering. His gift. A feminine sacrifice to his masculine desires.
Just the way I like it…
Chapter 9
When Ozzie’s hot mouth closed around her nipple, Samantha’s whole body buzzed. She could feel the suctioned pull of his lips…everywhere. The wet sweep of his tongue…everywhere.
“Ozzie!” She croaked his name.
“Shhh, sweetheart,” he rumbled against her flesh. “I know it hurts so good. But it’s okay. I got you.”
And he did. With an arm behind her back, he held her up as he feasted at her breast. With her legs wrapped around his waist, he supported her even as he continued to grind against her, never letting the friction ease, keeping her climbing ever onward, ever upward.
“Are you wet for me?” he asked.