Feeling Hot
Page 33
“You like this?” he murmured before turning his attention to her other nipple.
“Uh-huh.”
He alternated between fleeting licks and deep pulls, kissing and sucking until Jen started making sexy whimpering sounds and grinding her lower body against his in an agitated rhythm. The heat of her pu**y scorched his thighs, sent a bolt of lust to his thickening cock.
“I need to touch you,” he said, rubbing his cheek on the underside of her breast.
She choked out a laugh. “You are touching me.”
“It’s not enough. I need to touch…every f**king inch of you.”
With a growl, he flipped her on her back and latched his mouth to hers, kissing her roughly.
His hands took on a life of their own, exploring the soft female body sprawled beneath his. He skimmed his fingertips over her flat belly. Stroked the baby-fine skin of her inner thighs. Squeezed her luscious ass. And while his hands played and roamed, he used his mouth to tend to the places his fingers were too impatient to reach, like the graceful arch of her neck, which he nuzzled and kissed. The spot right beneath her ear, which he nipped at with his teeth. The sweet crease between her br**sts, which he lapped his tongue over.
Jen shifted restlessly beneath him, her arms coming around his shoulders, her short fingernails gouging into his skin. “I want to come,” she said desperately. “Make me come, Cash.”
His pulse roared in his ears, his c**k so stiff he was actually in pain. Breathing hard, he moved off the couch and got on his knees, digging his fingers into her thighs. “Spread for me, sweetheart.”
She spread, and he almost came from the sight of her bare sex. Her pu**y was as perfect as the rest of her, pink and smooth and glistening with excitement. His mouth went parched. His heart thumped a wild beat in his chest.
He needed to taste her. Now.
With a groan, he parted her legs farther apart and buried his head in that tempting paradise, licking from the top of her sex down to her wet opening. The sweet, tangy taste of her coated his tongue and he lapped her up like a cat, every muscle in his body coiled tight from raw, unadulterated lust. He nibbled on her slick folds, tickling her slit with the tip of his tongue, kissing and sampling but making a pointed effort to avoid the swollen bud begging for his attention.
“Stop teasing,” she squeezed out.
“No,” he muttered.
His tongue danced down to her core again, jabbing inside with sharp strokes. Jen’s hips bucked, a wild cry leaving her mouth.
Fighting a smile, he continued to f**k her with his tongue. His fingers circled both her ankles so he could lift her legs up to his shoulders and bring that pu**y closer to his face. Her anxious moans egged him on, heightened his own arousal and summoned a growl of satisfaction.
“Oh, God. Cash. Please. Please.”
The throaty begging nearly did him in, but he willed away the impending release and distracted himself by plunging his tongue into her again. When her pleads turned into nonsensical muttering and tortured whimpers, he finally gave her what she wanted.
The second his mouth suctioned around her clit, she orgasmed in a loud, hot rush, thrashing on the sofa and grabbing his head to keep his mouth glued to her sex.
Cash rode out the release with her, licking and sucking until her clit stopped pulsing against his tongue and her body went as limp as a rag doll.
Chuckling, he lifted his head and studied Jen’s face, damn pleased with what he saw. Flushed cheeks, glazed eyes—a woman who’d just been thoroughly satisfied.
His erection demanded that same satisfaction. Staggering to his feet, Cash peeled his T-shirt off and tossed it on the hardwood floor.
When Jen started to sit up, he fixed her with a stern look and said, “Don’t move.”
He darted into the hall, grabbed a condom from the drawer in the bathroom and hightailed it back to the living room like a man possessed. Jen was still sprawled on the couch, her blue eyes dazed, her br**sts red and splotchy from his gentle assault. His fingers had even left red marks on her thighs, which would’ve made him feel guilty if not for the way she spread those thighs the second he approached.
She eyed him with unabashed passion. “Get in me. Now.”
“Well, aren’t you bossy.” He taunted her by gripping his condom-covered erection and giving it a lazy stroke, ignoring the deep ache of anticipation in his balls. “Maybe I don’t want to do that yet. Maybe I want to stand here and look at you for a while.”
Her eyes went as wide as saucers as he stroked himself, but she must have seen the need burning on his face, must have heard his labored breathing, because she gave a soft laugh and taunted him right back. “Liar. You’re dying to be inside me.”
No point in denying it. “Busted,” he agreed wryly.
And then he launched himself at her and slid his c**k into her with one smooth glide.
She gasped.
He cursed.
Jesus, she was as tight as a glove, her inner muscles clamping around his dick as if to trap him there. And he didn’t mind one damn bit.
Sweat beaded on his skin as he began to move. Slow, languid, trying to prolong the pleasure. The sofa dipped under their weight. The air in the living room grew hot, a thick sexual fog that made it difficult to breathe.
Cash placed a palm flat on either side of her, his biceps flexing and straining as he tried to control the pace. A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. Christ. He wanted to go faster. He wanted to f**k the living daylights out of her, to hear the sound of flesh slapping flesh, to feel the couch cushions bounce as he drove them both over the edge.
“Uh-huh.”
He alternated between fleeting licks and deep pulls, kissing and sucking until Jen started making sexy whimpering sounds and grinding her lower body against his in an agitated rhythm. The heat of her pu**y scorched his thighs, sent a bolt of lust to his thickening cock.
“I need to touch you,” he said, rubbing his cheek on the underside of her breast.
She choked out a laugh. “You are touching me.”
“It’s not enough. I need to touch…every f**king inch of you.”
With a growl, he flipped her on her back and latched his mouth to hers, kissing her roughly.
His hands took on a life of their own, exploring the soft female body sprawled beneath his. He skimmed his fingertips over her flat belly. Stroked the baby-fine skin of her inner thighs. Squeezed her luscious ass. And while his hands played and roamed, he used his mouth to tend to the places his fingers were too impatient to reach, like the graceful arch of her neck, which he nuzzled and kissed. The spot right beneath her ear, which he nipped at with his teeth. The sweet crease between her br**sts, which he lapped his tongue over.
Jen shifted restlessly beneath him, her arms coming around his shoulders, her short fingernails gouging into his skin. “I want to come,” she said desperately. “Make me come, Cash.”
His pulse roared in his ears, his c**k so stiff he was actually in pain. Breathing hard, he moved off the couch and got on his knees, digging his fingers into her thighs. “Spread for me, sweetheart.”
She spread, and he almost came from the sight of her bare sex. Her pu**y was as perfect as the rest of her, pink and smooth and glistening with excitement. His mouth went parched. His heart thumped a wild beat in his chest.
He needed to taste her. Now.
With a groan, he parted her legs farther apart and buried his head in that tempting paradise, licking from the top of her sex down to her wet opening. The sweet, tangy taste of her coated his tongue and he lapped her up like a cat, every muscle in his body coiled tight from raw, unadulterated lust. He nibbled on her slick folds, tickling her slit with the tip of his tongue, kissing and sampling but making a pointed effort to avoid the swollen bud begging for his attention.
“Stop teasing,” she squeezed out.
“No,” he muttered.
His tongue danced down to her core again, jabbing inside with sharp strokes. Jen’s hips bucked, a wild cry leaving her mouth.
Fighting a smile, he continued to f**k her with his tongue. His fingers circled both her ankles so he could lift her legs up to his shoulders and bring that pu**y closer to his face. Her anxious moans egged him on, heightened his own arousal and summoned a growl of satisfaction.
“Oh, God. Cash. Please. Please.”
The throaty begging nearly did him in, but he willed away the impending release and distracted himself by plunging his tongue into her again. When her pleads turned into nonsensical muttering and tortured whimpers, he finally gave her what she wanted.
The second his mouth suctioned around her clit, she orgasmed in a loud, hot rush, thrashing on the sofa and grabbing his head to keep his mouth glued to her sex.
Cash rode out the release with her, licking and sucking until her clit stopped pulsing against his tongue and her body went as limp as a rag doll.
Chuckling, he lifted his head and studied Jen’s face, damn pleased with what he saw. Flushed cheeks, glazed eyes—a woman who’d just been thoroughly satisfied.
His erection demanded that same satisfaction. Staggering to his feet, Cash peeled his T-shirt off and tossed it on the hardwood floor.
When Jen started to sit up, he fixed her with a stern look and said, “Don’t move.”
He darted into the hall, grabbed a condom from the drawer in the bathroom and hightailed it back to the living room like a man possessed. Jen was still sprawled on the couch, her blue eyes dazed, her br**sts red and splotchy from his gentle assault. His fingers had even left red marks on her thighs, which would’ve made him feel guilty if not for the way she spread those thighs the second he approached.
She eyed him with unabashed passion. “Get in me. Now.”
“Well, aren’t you bossy.” He taunted her by gripping his condom-covered erection and giving it a lazy stroke, ignoring the deep ache of anticipation in his balls. “Maybe I don’t want to do that yet. Maybe I want to stand here and look at you for a while.”
Her eyes went as wide as saucers as he stroked himself, but she must have seen the need burning on his face, must have heard his labored breathing, because she gave a soft laugh and taunted him right back. “Liar. You’re dying to be inside me.”
No point in denying it. “Busted,” he agreed wryly.
And then he launched himself at her and slid his c**k into her with one smooth glide.
She gasped.
He cursed.
Jesus, she was as tight as a glove, her inner muscles clamping around his dick as if to trap him there. And he didn’t mind one damn bit.
Sweat beaded on his skin as he began to move. Slow, languid, trying to prolong the pleasure. The sofa dipped under their weight. The air in the living room grew hot, a thick sexual fog that made it difficult to breathe.
Cash placed a palm flat on either side of her, his biceps flexing and straining as he tried to control the pace. A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. Christ. He wanted to go faster. He wanted to f**k the living daylights out of her, to hear the sound of flesh slapping flesh, to feel the couch cushions bounce as he drove them both over the edge.
