Page 54 of Breaking All The Rules
His words, loaded with innuendo, slid in between the muscle fibers buried deep inside her pelvis and licked, long and slow.
“And as far as I know,” he added with a wry smile, “no dude’s dick has ever actually dropped off from a prolonged boner.”
Bea glanced at the dick in question, looking flushed and potent and all dressed up, waiting for her, and a hot wave of arousal surged through her system. Urgent SOS signals from her clitoris demanded she quit screwing around with the foreplay and just get on top already.
“Maybe not,” Bea said, returning her attention to his face. “But we probably shouldn’t press our luck. You know”—she smiled—“just in case.”
“Right.” He grinned. “’Cause that would be—”
“A tragedy.”
“Of epic proportions.”
Bea smiled. “You ready for this?”
“Honey,” he said, his gaze locking on hers, “I’ve been ready since the day I saw you eating ice cream outside Annie’s.”
And damn if her heart didn’t do a funny little triple tap in her chest. No twenty-five-year-old should have such a way with words.
With their gazes still locked, Beatrice rose from her haunches and slid her leg over him. His breath hissed out and his hands went to her rounded hips as the length of him slid between her slippery folds. His groan, deep and low, was followed swiftly by her own gasp as tissues screamingly sensitized by their foreplay reacted to the thick nudge of his head, and it took all her willpower not to rub it over her clit for a few moments as she lifted and notched him at her entrance.
With his fingers biting into her hips and his blue gaze boring a hole into hers, Bea sank slowly down, taking him inside her bit by bit. Her heartbeat roared through her ears and she panted hard, her mouth parted as his length disappeared, inch after delicious inch, watching his face intently as she swallowed him up. He slid in easily, and Bea took a moment to savor the stretch as he bottomed out.
She pulsed around him, adjusting to his girth, her entire body one giant throb as nerve endings flicked on like switches, sizzling and ready, humming in anticipation. When her eyes finally drifted open, Bea found him watching her, his blue gaze heated but lazy, like he’d been enjoying the show.
“Beatriss…” His fingers tightened on her hips again as his eyes took in his hat and her mouth and her breasts and her belly button and continued all the way down to where they were joined. It was a slow and thorough perusal, and Bea felt it all the way to the bottom of her heart. “You belong on top of me.”
It wasn’t said with brashness or bravado. There was no possession implied. It was just a quiet statement of the moment, and it turned Bea to mush.
Gah! This man and his words.
“Now what?” he asked.
Bea dragged herself back from the place where all his lovely words were being stored, because it was rodeo time. Using an index finger, she pushed the brim of his hat back a little and tossed her head. She smiled then, leaning in a little as she planted her left hand on his right shoulder. “Now I’m going to ride you long and slow.”
“Because you haven’t tortured me enough already?”
She smiled. “Lay back and enjoy.”
He gave an exaggerated, resigned sigh, but there was a wicked kind of glint in his eyes as he said, “Yes, ma’am.”
She almost laughed at his choice of phrase—like she needed to be any more turned on. Steadying herself for a beat, Bea rocked on top of him, her breathing sucking away at the potent stimulation.
“Oh, fuuuck,” he muttered, and Bea couldn’t have put it any better herself.
Gripping his shoulder harder, she rocked some more. Then, leaning into her hand for leverage, she lifted off him halfway, feeling every damn inch of it. “Oh God,” she gasped, staring at him incredulously as the tight, slick glove of her squeezed the hard jut of him before she lowered again, taking him all the way to the hilt.
Surely sex had never been this good?
“Yeah.” He grunted as she rocked on him a little to ease the delicious burn. “I know.”
It had been Bea’s plan to wring this out for as long as she could. To undulate like a belly dancer on top of him, like a snake charmer weaving a spell for a cobra, until Austin was begging her to come. But hell if she could do that now. Her months of abstinence had caught up with her in an instant, and the urge to come was a wild beat in her pulse, overriding all her fancy plans.
All she wanted was the shortcut to O town. Screw the scenic route.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t think long and slow is an option for me right now,” she admitted.
He gritted his teeth. “Thank Christ for that.”
