The VIP Doubles Down
Page 67
Her movement sparked a searing flare of desire. “And I want the same,” he said, pulling out of her and then thrusting back in so fast and hard he felt the resistance of the water between them.
“Yes!” Her cry echoed off the glass walls. “Again!”
He was nearly crazed with the effort of withholding his climax, but he flexed his hips back and forward again, making her breasts bob and her hair ripple.
He rotated his hips so he hit her clit, and he felt her go still as she balanced on the edge of orgasm. Then she convulsed around him and triggered his release so fast that he barely had time to brace himself. He threw back his head and shouted as her clenching muscles seemed to pull his climax from every corner of his being.
She gasped his name over and over, her body seizing and letting go, seizing and letting go, magnifying his pleasure.
Finally, all he could feel were tiny shivers running through her, so he gently eased out. Even that movement made her moan.
“Don’t let go of me,” she said, her West Virginia accent strong. “Or I’ll sink like a stone.”
The ordinary request struck deep. He wanted to tell her that he would never let go. He was becoming a maudlin idiot.
“There’s a lounge for two that has our name on it,” he said, shifting his grasp to her waist and tipping her upright.
She draped her arms over his shoulders and buried her face against his chest. “You exploded my insides.”
“That sounds gory and not at all pleasurable. And yet you seemed to enjoy it.”
Her breath tickled his skin as she chuckled. “I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“If you thought that was punishment, I guess handcuffs would be out of the question.”
“As long as there are no whips in the room. I see enough real pain to find inflicting it the opposite of sexy.”
He had a vision of her arms stretched up over her head with handcuffs gleaming on her wrists, her naked body stretched taut over a black velvet bedspread, and felt his cock begin to stir again.
“I’ve always wanted to play bad cop.” He slipped his hands under her bottom and lifted her so he could walk up the steps of the pool. The feel of her most private parts against his abdomen added to his cock’s interest.
“Does that make me the good cop?” Her head lay on his shoulder, and her wet hair streamed down her back like wet satin.
“That makes you my prisoner to do with as I will.” He made it to the wide chaise longue and laid her on the striped canvas cushion. She curled up on her side. He stared down at the soft curves of her bottom and thighs. “And I will do many, many wicked things to you.”
“Promise?” Her voice was sated and sleepy.
“I considered it more of a threat.” He stretched out beside her and dragged the terry-cloth throw up from the foot of the chair to cover them. Sliding one knee between hers, he wrapped his arm around her waist to spoon against her back.
She snuggled in close to him with a happy little hum, her skin still damp and slightly cool in contrast to the heat between her legs.
As he lay there, Gavin felt as though the water had drained from his moat, the archers had wandered off the ramparts in search of some ale, and Julian had disassembled and packed up his sniper rifle. One small red-haired sprite had rendered his defenses useless.
Chapter 22
Allie came slowly awake in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, but with a familiar purring sound in her ears. She also recognized the feel of the male body she was cradled against. Then she remembered that they were in Southampton, in Gavin’s gigantic bedroom that faced the Atlantic Ocean. Which was why the morning sun was spearing brilliant rays of light through the french doors.
She rolled within the circle of Gavin’s arm to discover that he was lying on his back with Pie ensconced on his chest, where the cat was enjoying the strokes of his clever fingers.
“Morning,” he said, his voice rumbling under Pie’s purr. “I told Pie to keep it down or she would wake you.”
“It’s your magic touch,” Allie said, fascinated by the sensuous way he caressed the little cat. “We can’t stop purring when you pet us.”
He crooked a smug smile at her. “Your vocalizations last night were significantly louder than a purr, even Pie’s.”
“You weren’t exactly Silent Sam yourself.”
“I’m a writer. I feel the need to communicate.”
“Most of your communication didn’t have any intelligible words in it.”
After their romp in the pool, they’d made love on the chaise longue before returning to the house to greet Pie. The cat had made the trip with only one “incident,” which Ludmilla dismissed as nothing, but Allie still felt guilty.
Despite Gavin’s assurances that they would work like dogs, they’d frittered away the rest of the day on a tour of the spectacular mansion, a walk on the wind-smoothed beach, and a candlelit gourmet dinner for two. It was like a deliciously romantic movie with Gavin cast as the hero, his mockery turned to charm, his snark turned to laughter, and his pain banished to a mere shadow lurking in the depths of his eyes. She felt herself falling deeper and deeper under his dark wizard’s spell.
Through it all he’d never stopped touching her, which had led to uninhibited lovemaking in his huge bed for half the night. Allie stretched, feeling a few sore spots, but mostly utter, bone-deep satisfaction. As the emotional barriers came down between them, the physical connection became more profound and intense.
She must have made a noise of some sort, because Pie reached out and patted her cheek with one soft paw. “I can see that she’s having a tough time settling in here.”
“Wherever you are is her home.”
“Me and some tuna.”
“Don’t undersell yourself,” Gavin said in a surprisingly serious tone.
“You notice who she’s lying on top of.”
“I’m simply a large flat surface generating heat . . . and petting.” He picked the cat up with one hand and gently set her down beside him before dragging Allie halfway on top of him to kiss her. His hands drifted up and down her back, each stroke going lower until he was caressing the curve of her bottom. “But I’d much rather pet you.”
She had enough sense left to pull her mouth away from the temptation of his firm, warm lips. “Nope. Today we have work to do.”
“Yes!” Her cry echoed off the glass walls. “Again!”
He was nearly crazed with the effort of withholding his climax, but he flexed his hips back and forward again, making her breasts bob and her hair ripple.
He rotated his hips so he hit her clit, and he felt her go still as she balanced on the edge of orgasm. Then she convulsed around him and triggered his release so fast that he barely had time to brace himself. He threw back his head and shouted as her clenching muscles seemed to pull his climax from every corner of his being.
She gasped his name over and over, her body seizing and letting go, seizing and letting go, magnifying his pleasure.
Finally, all he could feel were tiny shivers running through her, so he gently eased out. Even that movement made her moan.
“Don’t let go of me,” she said, her West Virginia accent strong. “Or I’ll sink like a stone.”
The ordinary request struck deep. He wanted to tell her that he would never let go. He was becoming a maudlin idiot.
“There’s a lounge for two that has our name on it,” he said, shifting his grasp to her waist and tipping her upright.
She draped her arms over his shoulders and buried her face against his chest. “You exploded my insides.”
“That sounds gory and not at all pleasurable. And yet you seemed to enjoy it.”
Her breath tickled his skin as she chuckled. “I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“If you thought that was punishment, I guess handcuffs would be out of the question.”
“As long as there are no whips in the room. I see enough real pain to find inflicting it the opposite of sexy.”
He had a vision of her arms stretched up over her head with handcuffs gleaming on her wrists, her naked body stretched taut over a black velvet bedspread, and felt his cock begin to stir again.
“I’ve always wanted to play bad cop.” He slipped his hands under her bottom and lifted her so he could walk up the steps of the pool. The feel of her most private parts against his abdomen added to his cock’s interest.
“Does that make me the good cop?” Her head lay on his shoulder, and her wet hair streamed down her back like wet satin.
“That makes you my prisoner to do with as I will.” He made it to the wide chaise longue and laid her on the striped canvas cushion. She curled up on her side. He stared down at the soft curves of her bottom and thighs. “And I will do many, many wicked things to you.”
“Promise?” Her voice was sated and sleepy.
“I considered it more of a threat.” He stretched out beside her and dragged the terry-cloth throw up from the foot of the chair to cover them. Sliding one knee between hers, he wrapped his arm around her waist to spoon against her back.
She snuggled in close to him with a happy little hum, her skin still damp and slightly cool in contrast to the heat between her legs.
As he lay there, Gavin felt as though the water had drained from his moat, the archers had wandered off the ramparts in search of some ale, and Julian had disassembled and packed up his sniper rifle. One small red-haired sprite had rendered his defenses useless.
Chapter 22
Allie came slowly awake in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, but with a familiar purring sound in her ears. She also recognized the feel of the male body she was cradled against. Then she remembered that they were in Southampton, in Gavin’s gigantic bedroom that faced the Atlantic Ocean. Which was why the morning sun was spearing brilliant rays of light through the french doors.
She rolled within the circle of Gavin’s arm to discover that he was lying on his back with Pie ensconced on his chest, where the cat was enjoying the strokes of his clever fingers.
“Morning,” he said, his voice rumbling under Pie’s purr. “I told Pie to keep it down or she would wake you.”
“It’s your magic touch,” Allie said, fascinated by the sensuous way he caressed the little cat. “We can’t stop purring when you pet us.”
He crooked a smug smile at her. “Your vocalizations last night were significantly louder than a purr, even Pie’s.”
“You weren’t exactly Silent Sam yourself.”
“I’m a writer. I feel the need to communicate.”
“Most of your communication didn’t have any intelligible words in it.”
After their romp in the pool, they’d made love on the chaise longue before returning to the house to greet Pie. The cat had made the trip with only one “incident,” which Ludmilla dismissed as nothing, but Allie still felt guilty.
Despite Gavin’s assurances that they would work like dogs, they’d frittered away the rest of the day on a tour of the spectacular mansion, a walk on the wind-smoothed beach, and a candlelit gourmet dinner for two. It was like a deliciously romantic movie with Gavin cast as the hero, his mockery turned to charm, his snark turned to laughter, and his pain banished to a mere shadow lurking in the depths of his eyes. She felt herself falling deeper and deeper under his dark wizard’s spell.
Through it all he’d never stopped touching her, which had led to uninhibited lovemaking in his huge bed for half the night. Allie stretched, feeling a few sore spots, but mostly utter, bone-deep satisfaction. As the emotional barriers came down between them, the physical connection became more profound and intense.
She must have made a noise of some sort, because Pie reached out and patted her cheek with one soft paw. “I can see that she’s having a tough time settling in here.”
“Wherever you are is her home.”
“Me and some tuna.”
“Don’t undersell yourself,” Gavin said in a surprisingly serious tone.
“You notice who she’s lying on top of.”
“I’m simply a large flat surface generating heat . . . and petting.” He picked the cat up with one hand and gently set her down beside him before dragging Allie halfway on top of him to kiss her. His hands drifted up and down her back, each stroke going lower until he was caressing the curve of her bottom. “But I’d much rather pet you.”
She had enough sense left to pull her mouth away from the temptation of his firm, warm lips. “Nope. Today we have work to do.”
