She wasnotgoing to use the termdoggy stylein front of Councilor Hugh Blacke, Esquire. No freaking way.
“Got it.” He sounded satisfied. “You can just relax, Gwen. I’ll do the work this time.”
Propping himself on an elbow, he slowly skated his hand over her round belly. Dragged his knuckles lightly up her inner arm and along her collarbone. Then he carefully, tenderly cupped her breast. His thumb brushed in an arc over the stiff tip of her nipple once, then again.
He paused, brows drawing together as he studied her face. “You’re not especially sensitive there, are you?”
No, she wasn’t. He was the first partner who’d ever noticed.
She shook her head, and he made a thoughtful, humming noise. Then retraced his path down to her stomach and dipped even lower. As she sucked in a shuddering breath, his hot, smooth fingertips slipped back between her legs. Back over her slick, swollen flesh and damp, crisp hair. He watched himself toy with her there, face rapt and taut, eyes glowing with heat while he leisurely explored and experimented, learning what made her squirm and gasp and shamelessly spread her thighs wide for him.
The pulsing of his dick grew stronger minute by minute, its flush deepening. Touching her, bringing her pleasure, was definitely turning him on too. Just like he’d told her.
Then his thumbs skimmed over her clit, one after the other, again and again, and she couldn’t watch his reaction anymore, because her own had grown too intense. She squeezed her eyes shut with a helpless moan—only to find his hot palm pressed over her mouth, ensuring her relative silence in the dark, quiet house.
“Okay?” he murmured.
She sucked in a breath through her nose and nodded fervently, because oh, heavens, something about his hand over her mouth, keeping her quiet, was really,really, working for her.
He paused. “Morethan okay?”
“Mm-hmmm,” she told his palm, nodding again. “Mmmmm.”
He left that hand in place and occupied the other between her legs once more. Teased her entrance with a swirling middle finger while his thumb pressed her clit. Rubbed her vulva between his careful knuckles. Dipped inside her and played, paying assiduous attention to every spot that felt good, in the world’s slowest, most delicious finger-fucking.
“Gods and goddesses, you’re lovely,” he told her, voice raw with sincerity and need.
She arched and trembled. Rocked her hips and clutched the pillow on either side of her head. Sweated and cried out into his palm.
Once she was aching and desperate, on the verge of another mind-bending orgasm, his relentless hand finally stilled. With his customary gentle efficiency, he had her face down and comfortably propped on pillows within moments.
He knelt between her legs. Ran soothing hands along her damp spine and over her ass. Waited patiently.
Right. He wanted words.
“Please,” she told the pillow, then turned her face to one side so he could hear her clearly. “Hugh, I need you.Please.”
That was all he evidently required. In one long, smooth push, he sank inside her, setting every nerve in her body aglow. Oh, shit, that raised spiral on his dickrubbedevery sensitive spot she—
He pulled back to the tip, then surged forward again withdeliberate, measured force. The quiet slap of skin against skin filled the room, and the pillow muffled her gasp. With one hand on her hip, he guided her movements and set the rhythm, while his other palm glided over every square inch of her skin he could reach in an endless, admiring caress.
That touch was a message, one she didn’t require empath abilities to read. He was fucking her—gods, was he fucking her, each firm, ridged stroke a cymbal clash of pleasure she could almost hear—but he was also making love to her. Worshipping her.
They might not be face-to-face, but he wasn’t thinking of anyone but her. She had no doubt about that. And when she desperately pressed back against him, when she eagerly took his cock inside her over and over, squeezing around him in greedy need, she couldn’t remember any other partner. Didn’t want to have anyone but him in her mind. In her body.
Within moments, she was ready to come again. Almost. But she couldn’t quite reach between her legs in this position, and—
Heat lapped over her clit. Retreated. Swirled and teased. Washed over her once more in a sudden surge that echoed another steady, inexorable push of his dick.
She cried out into the pillow, coming so hard she lost track of anything but the clench of her body around the cock buried deep inside her and the white sparks behind her scrunched-shut eyelids with every relentless flick of heat over her clit.
Her orgasm lit her like a star and wrung her out like a dishrag, and once it was done, she collapsed into the pillows and probably would have slept then and there. If, that is, Hugh weren’t already maneuvering them both with careful, strong hands.
Somehow he was now sitting with his back against the sofa,rooted firmly within her once more as she straddled his lap. And she loved seeing his gorgeous sweat-streaked face and the need that hardened his bearded jaw to stone, but this wasn’t going to work.
“I don’t have the strength to move,” she whispered hoarsely, faintly embarrassed.
It was an apology but also the honest truth. And he was much stronger than he appeared, but not strong enough to lift her entire weight and fuck himself with her body.
