Swept Away By The Seductive Stranger. Amy Andrews
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Lower.
But for now it was her turn. Her mouth.
Felicity’s pulse tripped as she slid the zip down and the fabric peeled back to reveal his impressive girth stretching the limits of his briefs. She looked up at him, her pulse skipping a beat to find him still watching her intently. Locking her gaze with his, she slid a hand up his thigh, inside his underwear and grasped the steely length of his erection.
He shut his eyes and groaned as she pulled it free. The sound was low and needy, sluicing over her like warm rain. His hand slid onto her shoulder and squeezed before his eyes drifted open again.
She made sure he was focusing on her before she transferred her attention to the solid weight of him in her palm and thanked whoever was the patron saint of trains for that strip of light at the bottom of the door allowing her a visual she was never going to forget.
He was big and hard and perfect. Thick and long. And for tonight—what was left of it—hers.
She leaned forward, placed her lips against the rigid perfection of him, kissing him there like he had first kissed her. Slowly and gently, testing things out, discovering his contours and the heady aroma of him, teasing him a little with her light kisses.
It wasn’t until his quad started to tremble beneath her palm that she realised the level of control he was exercising. She glanced at him, seeing it in the taut planes of his face, feeling it in his grip on her shoulder. So she shut her eyes and let him have it all, leaning forward, pleasuring him with her mouth, taking him in as far as she could.
‘Yes-s-s,’ he hissed, sliding both hands into her hair. ‘Yes.’
His gratification spurred her on and she went harder, revelling in the husky timbre of his breath and the utter hedonism of giving oral pleasure to a man she barely knew while she was topless in the privacy of a luxury train compartment.
She felt wild and reckless and completely wanton.
So freaking James Bond.
And she was never going to forget this night as long as she lived.
‘Oh, God,’ he groaned. ‘We have to stop.’
But Felicity barely heard him. She was swept away in the moment, her pulse roaring through her ears.
It wasn’t until he said, ‘Stop,’ again and pulled away that Felicity tuned back in.
‘Sorry,’ he panted. ‘I’m too close...’
His forehead was scrunched, his lips tight. He looked in pain and completely undone, looming over her almost fully dressed, still potently aroused but somehow achingly vulnerable.
He didn’t look like a man who was used to that state of being. His vulnerability hit her hard in the soft spongy spot that was never too far from the surface. She’d give him just about anything right now.
‘What do you need?’
‘To be in you.’ He ducked down and kissed her hard. ‘Now.’
The compartment tilted as the dizzying effects of the kiss continued even after it had finished.
Him in her? Now? That she could accommodate.
She shimmied back on the bed, dragging her yoga pants and underwear off in the process, aware of him watching the jiggle of her breasts with laserlike focus.
‘Well?’ she said as she wriggled to the centre of the bed, her nipples responding blatantly to his unashamed gaze. ‘Am I the only one getting naked?’
‘Nope.’ He grinned, immediately toeing off his shoes and hauling his still-buttoned shirt over his head.
Watching him strip was sexy. Him watching her watch him strip even more so.
Felicity salivated at the perfection of his chest. It was wide at the shoulders, narrow at the waist. The muscles of his abdomen were defined but not excessively. Tanned and smooth, there was only a fine trail of hair trekking south from his belly button.
She wanted to kiss his chest. Smell it. Lick it. Stroke her fingers over the hills and valleys of his abs, trail them between his hips and watch how it turned him on. Feel the weight of it as he pressed her into the bed.
He stripped off his trousers and underwear together, revealing long, lean legs—more athletic than meaty. Before kicking them away he quickly retrieved his wallet from his back trouser pocket and plucked out a foil packet.
‘Condom,’ he said, as he took the two paces to her bed.
Felicity smiled as she let her gaze roam over every inch of his body. He was six feet plus of lean male animal and he was hers. ‘Just the one?’
He put a knee on her mattress, tossing the packet near a pillow. ‘We’ll improvise.’ He smiled.
And then he was lying on his side next to her, his head propped on his hand, his other hand trailing down her neck, through the valley between her breasts, down to her stomach, swirling around her belly button before continuing south all the way down through the soft curls of her pubic hair, stopping just before he reached ground zero.
Felicity’s breath hitched as his finger hovered, taunting her. She doubted she’d last long either if he were actually to touch her.
She groped for the foil packet and thrust it at his chest. His totally freaking awesome chest. ‘In me. Now. Remember?’
He smiled, his finger circling just out of reach. ‘I can play a little first.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s been a while for me too.’
He regarded her for a moment before taking the condom and easing onto his back to roll it on. It was a position Felicity couldn’t resist, taking advantage of his momentary distraction to move on top of him, straddling his hips, his fully sheathed erection sliding deliciously through the slick heat between her legs.
‘God,’ he muttered, his hands drifting up her belly to her breasts. ‘You look magnificent.’
Felicity smiled as she arched her back and rubbed herself up and down the length of him. ‘I feel pretty damn magnificent right now.’
His thumbs brushed her nipples and she shut her eyes, revelling in the heady glow of sexual abandonment for a moment or two.
But it just wasn’t enough.
Her eyelids fluttered open to find him watching her again with an intensity that practically melted her into a puddle. She held his gaze as she leaned forward, tilting her pelvis and grasping his girth. His hands fell to her hips as she guided him to where she was slick and ready.
Where she needed him to be.
The feel of him there, so thick and big, was incredible. His eyes on her as she slowly sank down and he filled her—stretched her—was a whole different level. Felicity gasped as she settled flush against him, leaning forward with outstretched arms, bracing her hands on his shoulders, steadying herself as she took a breath.
‘So good,’ she muttered.
‘God, yes,’ he panted.
And it was. So good. Too good to just sit and do nothing. Too good not to move. Not to flex up and down and back and forth and round and round. Too good not to find a rhythm that was perfect and would drive them both towards a conclusion that had been building between them all night.
Her fingernails curled into his shoulders, his fingers gripped her hips like steel bands as they did just that, staring into each other’s eyes as the tempo picked up, finding a rhythm and an angle that tripped her switch. His fingers slid between her legs again, not teasing this time but going straight to the spot she needed it most and rubbing sure and hard.
Nothing fancy. Just merciless pressure.
‘God, yes,’ Felicity gasped, drumming her feet behind her on the bed, riding him harder, faster