Double Time
Page 22
The limo’s door closed behind him and he settled beside her. He leaned close so that his nose brushed her cheek near her ear and his warm breath tickled her earlobe. “Later,” he said in a low voice, “I’m going to make love to you slowly and appreciate every inch of that gorgeous body of yours, but right now…” He sucked a sharp breath between his teeth as if his own thoughts were torturous. “Right now I’m going to devour you.”
Eyes wide, she turned to look at him. His mouth captured hers in a deep, sucking kiss. His tongue flicked against the inside of her upper lip and she groaned, opening her mouth to his possession. His lips tasted of cherry and some unique flavor that could only be described as Trey-licious. She leaned into his hard body, pressing her br**sts against his chest.
He shifted and she found herself belly-to-belly with him and sprawled across the backseat of the limo. He moved his thigh between her legs and pressed it firmly against the throbbing ache that longed to be filled by him. She squirmed, needing rougher stimulation, and felt the evidence of his desire against her hip. He tore his mouth from hers and met her eyes. “I want you,” he said. “Reagan.” He buried one hand in her hair and tilted her head back so he could move those sucking kisses of his to her throat. “Reagan.”
“I want you too,” she said breathlessly.
“Say my name.”
“Trey.”
He moved his hand to brush the straps of her tank top down until her breast was exposed. He flicked his tongue over one nipple and her entire body tensed.
His hands skimmed down her sides, drawing her tank top down to her waist. She got lost in a sea of sensation, unable to keep track of where his hands were, his lips, his tongue. She’d never been this excited in her life. Cool air bathed her crotch and she wondered when he’d managed to unfasten her pants. She lost track of that thought when his tongue flicked against her swollen clit. Her hips buckled and she cried out. He rubbed the flat of his tongue against her several times and then lifted his head. He reached for his cherry slush and took a drink. Reagan almost had time to collect her scattered thoughts before he lowered his head and dribbled a trail of frigid ice over her hot and achy flesh. She groaned when he lowered his head to warm her with the friction of his tongue and lips.
Within seconds her womb tightened and the first ripples of orgasm gripped her aching center. “Trey, Trey, Trey!” she chanted as she came, wishing he was inside her as her core clenched with hard spasms of pure bliss.
“You’re gushing,” he said as if in awe and started lapping at her freely flowing juices. “You taste so good,” he murmured, “Reagan mixed with cherry.”
Still trembling with aftershocks of release, she chuckled. The guy had a thing for cherry. He continued to lick and suckle her while he removed her pants. Her panties, which she had taken off back at Dare’s house, were still in her pocket. With nothing on but her tank top around her waist, she found herself mostly naked while Trey was still fully clothed. Didn’t seem quite fair. She wanted to see him. Touch him. Kiss him. Taste him, too.
She sat up in the seat and reached for his shirt, tugging impatiently at the fabric along his back. He caught her hands and locked fingers with her, his tongue still dancing over the heated flesh between her thighs.
“Trey,” she whispered desperately. “I want to touch you.”
“I couldn’t stand it,” he said. “After I come, you can touch me as much as you want. I’m much too excited right now though.”
His tongue plunged into her body. Twirled inside her. Withdrew. Plunged inside again. Twirled. Withdrew. She writhed against his face, unable to control the motion of her hips. Oh dear God, if he kept that up much longer she’d come again. He released one of her hands and softly, gently stroked her quivering belly. Her hand moved to his hair and tangled in the long silky strands. She tried to tug him upward, to direct him to her throbbing clit, but he resisted, still teasing her pu**y with that talented tongue of his. She felt her tank top go taut against her waist. He grabbed her hand, did some fancy twist, and the next thing she knew her wrist was trapped at her side, imprisoned by her own shirt.
He lifted his head and said, “Don’t interfere,” before nipping her clit. Her entire body jerked. He flicked the sensitive nub with his tongue, sucked on it until she was writhing against his face again, and then switched to suckling her swollen lips.
“You’re killing me, Trey,” she said breathlessly. “Will you just f**k me already?”
He lifted his head and chuckled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He wanted her to ask? If she’d known that, she would have asked ten minutes ago. He shifted back to kneel on the floor between her wide open legs. The cold air that bathed her slick heat reminded her how much she needed him inside her. She struggled to free her wrist from her twisted tank top and, once free, she sat up and reached for Trey’s belt. He was checking the pockets of his jeans frantically.
Reagan unfastened his belt and worked at the buttons of his fly. Trey had his wallet out and was digging around inside. When Reagan got his pants open, she reached inside and carefully pulled his c**k out of his pants.
He shuddered. “W-wait,” he breathed.
His c**k was magnificent—long and hard, tipped with a large, thick head that she wanted to suck almost as much as she wanted it inside her.
“Hurry,” she whispered. “God, I want you.”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah, f**k. That’s what I had in mind.”
He grimaced when she rubbed her thumbs over his c**k head in wide circles.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a condom on you, would you?”
“Not on me, no. You’re supposed to put it on you and put it in me.” She chuckled.
“I don’t have one with me.”
She groaned. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
He bit his lip and shook his head. “I probably lost them one of the times I hit the deck at the skate park. Or when I bought our drinks. Or at Dare’s house. Or at the hospi—”
She released a frustrated breath. “Maybe there’s a drugstore nearby. We’ll send the driver in.” She peeked out the window and found they were in a familiar parking lot. “Oh, I’m home. I do have condoms upstairs.”
Trey breathed a sigh of relief. “Awesome. I’m dying to bury myself inside you.”
Chapter 7
When Ethan heard Reagan fumbling with her key in the lock of the front door, he glanced up from the boxing match he was watching on TV. Wide smile on his face, he climbed to his feet and prepared for her excited launch into his waiting arms. He probably shouldn’t love it when she was excited about something, but Lord he missed the feel of her body against his. As far as Ethan was concerned, any excuse to embrace Reagan Elliot was a good excuse.
Eyes wide, she turned to look at him. His mouth captured hers in a deep, sucking kiss. His tongue flicked against the inside of her upper lip and she groaned, opening her mouth to his possession. His lips tasted of cherry and some unique flavor that could only be described as Trey-licious. She leaned into his hard body, pressing her br**sts against his chest.
He shifted and she found herself belly-to-belly with him and sprawled across the backseat of the limo. He moved his thigh between her legs and pressed it firmly against the throbbing ache that longed to be filled by him. She squirmed, needing rougher stimulation, and felt the evidence of his desire against her hip. He tore his mouth from hers and met her eyes. “I want you,” he said. “Reagan.” He buried one hand in her hair and tilted her head back so he could move those sucking kisses of his to her throat. “Reagan.”
“I want you too,” she said breathlessly.
“Say my name.”
“Trey.”
He moved his hand to brush the straps of her tank top down until her breast was exposed. He flicked his tongue over one nipple and her entire body tensed.
His hands skimmed down her sides, drawing her tank top down to her waist. She got lost in a sea of sensation, unable to keep track of where his hands were, his lips, his tongue. She’d never been this excited in her life. Cool air bathed her crotch and she wondered when he’d managed to unfasten her pants. She lost track of that thought when his tongue flicked against her swollen clit. Her hips buckled and she cried out. He rubbed the flat of his tongue against her several times and then lifted his head. He reached for his cherry slush and took a drink. Reagan almost had time to collect her scattered thoughts before he lowered his head and dribbled a trail of frigid ice over her hot and achy flesh. She groaned when he lowered his head to warm her with the friction of his tongue and lips.
Within seconds her womb tightened and the first ripples of orgasm gripped her aching center. “Trey, Trey, Trey!” she chanted as she came, wishing he was inside her as her core clenched with hard spasms of pure bliss.
“You’re gushing,” he said as if in awe and started lapping at her freely flowing juices. “You taste so good,” he murmured, “Reagan mixed with cherry.”
Still trembling with aftershocks of release, she chuckled. The guy had a thing for cherry. He continued to lick and suckle her while he removed her pants. Her panties, which she had taken off back at Dare’s house, were still in her pocket. With nothing on but her tank top around her waist, she found herself mostly naked while Trey was still fully clothed. Didn’t seem quite fair. She wanted to see him. Touch him. Kiss him. Taste him, too.
She sat up in the seat and reached for his shirt, tugging impatiently at the fabric along his back. He caught her hands and locked fingers with her, his tongue still dancing over the heated flesh between her thighs.
“Trey,” she whispered desperately. “I want to touch you.”
“I couldn’t stand it,” he said. “After I come, you can touch me as much as you want. I’m much too excited right now though.”
His tongue plunged into her body. Twirled inside her. Withdrew. Plunged inside again. Twirled. Withdrew. She writhed against his face, unable to control the motion of her hips. Oh dear God, if he kept that up much longer she’d come again. He released one of her hands and softly, gently stroked her quivering belly. Her hand moved to his hair and tangled in the long silky strands. She tried to tug him upward, to direct him to her throbbing clit, but he resisted, still teasing her pu**y with that talented tongue of his. She felt her tank top go taut against her waist. He grabbed her hand, did some fancy twist, and the next thing she knew her wrist was trapped at her side, imprisoned by her own shirt.
He lifted his head and said, “Don’t interfere,” before nipping her clit. Her entire body jerked. He flicked the sensitive nub with his tongue, sucked on it until she was writhing against his face again, and then switched to suckling her swollen lips.
“You’re killing me, Trey,” she said breathlessly. “Will you just f**k me already?”
He lifted his head and chuckled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He wanted her to ask? If she’d known that, she would have asked ten minutes ago. He shifted back to kneel on the floor between her wide open legs. The cold air that bathed her slick heat reminded her how much she needed him inside her. She struggled to free her wrist from her twisted tank top and, once free, she sat up and reached for Trey’s belt. He was checking the pockets of his jeans frantically.
Reagan unfastened his belt and worked at the buttons of his fly. Trey had his wallet out and was digging around inside. When Reagan got his pants open, she reached inside and carefully pulled his c**k out of his pants.
He shuddered. “W-wait,” he breathed.
His c**k was magnificent—long and hard, tipped with a large, thick head that she wanted to suck almost as much as she wanted it inside her.
“Hurry,” she whispered. “God, I want you.”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah, f**k. That’s what I had in mind.”
He grimaced when she rubbed her thumbs over his c**k head in wide circles.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a condom on you, would you?”
“Not on me, no. You’re supposed to put it on you and put it in me.” She chuckled.
“I don’t have one with me.”
She groaned. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
He bit his lip and shook his head. “I probably lost them one of the times I hit the deck at the skate park. Or when I bought our drinks. Or at Dare’s house. Or at the hospi—”
She released a frustrated breath. “Maybe there’s a drugstore nearby. We’ll send the driver in.” She peeked out the window and found they were in a familiar parking lot. “Oh, I’m home. I do have condoms upstairs.”
Trey breathed a sigh of relief. “Awesome. I’m dying to bury myself inside you.”
Chapter 7
When Ethan heard Reagan fumbling with her key in the lock of the front door, he glanced up from the boxing match he was watching on TV. Wide smile on his face, he climbed to his feet and prepared for her excited launch into his waiting arms. He probably shouldn’t love it when she was excited about something, but Lord he missed the feel of her body against his. As far as Ethan was concerned, any excuse to embrace Reagan Elliot was a good excuse.
