And Able. Lucy Monroe
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we need to fix that before the pleasure starts. Can I pull the covers back?” he asked, his fingers poised to do so.
“If you’re sure you want to do this.” She sounded like she honestly could not understand why he’d want to. “You know I can’t…”
“I know.” What did she think, he was some kind of selfish adolescent who would demand sex in payment for helping her feel better? “I don’t expect you to and I wouldn’t let you even if you were offering, which I’m intelligent and mature enough to realize you aren’t. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He pulled the blankets back, teasing himself by revealing her sexy curves one tiny bit at a time. When he had the blankets at the bottom of the bed and her entire body was exposed to his hot gaze, he just stopped and stared at her. She had the perfect woman’s figure. Full breasts, a small waist and narrow hips, but not so narrow that she could ever be mistaken for a boy. He knew her butt was heart-shaped, but he’d give about anything to examine it in detail.
He wasn’t going to. It was hard enough on him to be doing this. How he was going to keep his hands off of her after giving her a climax he had no idea, but he’d do it.
He’d faced harder challenges…somewhere in his past, even if he couldn’t remember them.
“Is something the matter?” she asked.
“No. You are just so beautiful, it about takes my breath.”
“You like my body?”
Was she serious? “What’s not to like? You’re the stuff adolescent boys’ wet dreams are made of.”
She frowned in distaste. “I don’t want to star in anyone’s wet dreams.”
“Not even mine?”
Her eyes widened and then filled with reluctant interest. “Do you dream about me?”
Instead of answering her, he started touching her feet again. If they started talking about his dreams, he was going to want to live them out, and his current level of arousal was painful enough. She made a purring sound as he kneaded her arches and he smiled.
Giving her even this level of pleasure was a major delight for him. He could grow addicted to that sound.
He worked his way up her legs, reveling in the freedom to touch her, this time with no intention of stopping at her knees. Masseuses did this all the time without getting boners, but day-am…he was so hard he could have drilled for oil in a rock canyon with his penis.
He didn’t mind one bit, though.
The sexual discomfort was worth it because she was relaxing and her eyes had closed again. The frown of pain smoothed from her pale features, to be replaced by an expression of bliss that made him feel as arrogant as she’d accused him of being.
He was doing that to her and he loved it.
He was careful not to touch any blatantly erogenous zones at first as he massaged her body into total liquid compliance to his touch. So when he caressed her breasts again through the shirt, she didn’t even moan. He massaged them as carefully as he had the rest of her body.
When he zeroed in on her nipples, he brought them to rigidity slowly so that her body remained pliant. But once he began to play with them in earnest, she moaned and arched upward.
He pressed down on her breastbone. “Relax, baby. Think boneless, liquid thoughts.”
“Okay,” she sighed out, relaxing once again against the bed.
He played with her, letting one hand slide down her stomach and back up again until the scent of her arousal filled the air around them. Every time she started to stiffen, he stopped touching her or massaged a less erogenous area until she relaxed again. He was shaking with his own need by the time he let his fingertips slide underneath the waistband of her panties.
He almost lost it at the feel of the damp, silky curls covering her mound. She cried out when his finger dipped between her humid, swollen outer labia. He stopped moving his hand and reminded her to relax.
“I can’t. It’s too much.”
“You can do it, Claire. It will be worth it. Trust me.”
“I’ll try,” she said on a pant.
“Breathe slowly, sugar.”
She took a deep breath and did as he said. He started touching her again. She felt so good, so silky and wet and hot.
He dipped into her, barely trespassing her opening. “You are amazingly tight.”
She mumbled something he couldn’t catch and he smiled despite the pain of his acute arousal.
He circled her wetness, brushing upward to contact with her clitoris. The small nub was swollen and hard against his fingertip.
He touched it, telling her how beautiful she was, how good she felt to him, but stopping every time she tensed in any way. He brought her to the edge of release again and again while her breathing ruptured. He wanted to keep her from spending until she was so ready to go over, he could blow on her and she would come.
When they got to that point and she reached her ultimate pleasure, her orgasm lasted as long as most men spent in foreplay. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She arched, crying softly and then moaning out her pleasure.
When her body fell back against the bed in total abandon, he slid his hand from her warmth and then cupped her from the outside of her panties until her breathing pattern indicated she had fallen asleep.
He covered her up and headed for the shower to take care of the boner that had been tenting his jeans for the last hour, or more.
Claire woke up to the sound of a steady thumping. It wasn’t an unpleasant sound, like someone hammering. More like those heartbeat recordings played to calm crying babies. She’d read about it on the Internet and then listened to the wave files that accompanied the article. She had easily understood why the sound soothed babies. It was nice. Comforting.
So was the warmth against her cheek and sense of security she felt, from being held.
Oh, gosh, she was being held. That heartbeat was Hotwire’s and he was underneath her, just like earlier. How had she gotten here?
Had she rolled over on top of him? She couldn’t see him pulling her into his arms, but then she would never have imagined him touching her the way he had before she slept, either. And not expecting recompense in her body. Men just were not that generous.
But he had been.
He had asked if he could give her pleasure to take away the pain. She’d agreed, but been totally unprepared for what he meant by pleasure. She’d never experienced anything like it, which was not so surprising. She’d be willing to bet few women had, but she’d never read about anything like it, either. And she read a lot.
It had worked, too. The dull ache in her head was now nothing like the sharp, slicing pain she’d experienced earlier.
But that still didn’t explain how she had ended up on top of him. She’d been a light sleeper for as long as she could remember. Claire simply could not see how Hotwire could have pulled her into his arms or how she could have rolled on top of him without her waking up.
Not only had she slept very soundly, but she had slept for hours. She could see the bedside clock from where she lay on top of Hotwire. Unbelievably, it was just a little after five A.M. And other than the almost negligible throb of pain in the back of her head, she felt great.
Ready for anything. If normal sex did this for a person, celibacy would be just a word, not her way of life by choice. What if sex with Hotwire was that good?
It was an interesting thought, but not one she wanted to explore at the moment. Even if maybe he was a guy who could make her feel things she had thought were pure fantasy before last night. He was still totally