climbed toward release. She was ready, primed to climax.
But Reinier stopped his caress altogether and she groaned in her abandonment, breaths coming shallow and fast. His hand remained completely still while he delighted in her frustrated moan. At that, Connor chuckled, a low, sultry sound, like velvet rubbing against Reinier’s back.
Looking up, Reinier watched Connor touch himself, his broad hands brushing over his belly and lower still. When he reached the fly of his breeches, Connor rubbed the impressive bulge in the garment. Reinier’s lids lowered, and hissing through clenched teeth, he felt his own hardness twitch and strain against his breeches.
Another surge of her slickness bathed his fingers resting in her dewy folds and drew his attention back to her. Parting his fingers suddenly, Reinier spread her core and bent down, buried his face against her, and let his tongue delve and play over her with the exhilarating finesse of an expert, continuing what his fingers had started.
Once more her body heaved off the bed. Once more she moaned and Reinier burrowed deeper, tasting her, and swirled and toyed with the exact spot that made her writhe and shudder under his touch.
But just like before, he halted. And just like before, release did not find her.
Reinier moved off the bed to crouch between her spread legs. His eyes traveled slowly over her glistening core and the moment he saw, he understood. So, this was her secret. It all made sense now, her shyness, her lack of experience. But the bed was moving; Connor was getting up and stalking toward him.
Quickly, Reinier covered her moistness with the flat of his hand, disguising the protective gesture with a rolling movement against her. Her breaths came in sighs. Her lids fluttered close. She wanted it. Every fiber of her body screamed for it. So, Reinier kept silent. He stored her secret for later, though.
The gentle, exquisite pressure against all of her center had her hips meet his hand with a steady rhythm. Connor crouched down behind him. He pressed close, fondling the soft tissue of the scar on Reinier’s back. Longing streaked through his body. When he turned his head, their eyes met. Leaning forward, Connor’s arm came around Reinier.
“Let me have a taste. She smells so sweet,” Reinier heard Connor whisper. Parting his fingers, Reinier exposed only her sensitized bud for Connor’s kiss.
His body pressed fully against Reinier’s as his tongue flicked over her for a quick sample. Then the Irishman’s dark head bent and his mouth closed entirely over her most ticklish spot. Connor licked and swirled his tongue over her, light and fast, until she squirmed on the bed and moaned helplessly. His tongue was pleasuring her, taking her higher and higher. Suddenly, her arms snaked up and her hands fisted in Connor’s hair.
“Please,” she sobbed, begged.
Reinier smiled when he heard Connor’s muffled chuckle. One last flick of his tongue and Reinier saw the coil that had been nourished spring free. Her body was shaken with tremors, tiny, violent quakes of ecstasy. Connor continued his sweet, gentle caresses, lapping at her with the flat of his tongue until her body stopped trembling with the force of her climax.
Connor drew back and left Reinier also to crawl up the bed to her side. Elbow braced against the mattress, the Irishman’s gaze settled on her passion-flushed face while he cupped her breast and squeezed it gently, pressing a fleeting kiss to her earlobe. Reinier came to lie on her other side just as Connor’s arm came around her limp body and her eyes fluttered open.
Reinier saw the light of understanding in her eyes. She had been told to give, but now she comprehended that she was supposed to take pleasure in return.
Tentatively, she brought her hands up and placed them on Connor’s sculpted upper body. Gooseflesh rose where her hands explored, and the Irishman closed his eyes lazily. Seemingly emboldened by his reaction to her touch, her fingers, although hesitant, ran over the prominent bulge in Connor’s breeches.
Reinier let his head rest over hers to watch her progress. He pressed his front into her back, and instinctually her body started moving against him. Reaching down, Reinier entwined her fingers with his to help her unbutton Connor’s fly, and as soon as it was open far enough, he guided her in.
Connor hissed when Reinier wrapped her small hand around his hardness. His own hand grasped her wrist and he showed her how to stroke him. Down he guided her, then up.
His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin beneath her earlobe, his breath cooling the wet trail just a little. “Slowly,” Reinier breathed into her ear. “But hard, lass. Squeeze the tip just a little before you let your hand slide back down again.” Hearing Connor’s deep, throaty purr sent a yearning quiver through Reinier. He moved against her more, his own hardness riding the cleft of her cheeks.
She answered them both with a soft moan. While her hand on Connor became bolder, her body moved, rubbing against them like a lazy cat at first, but soon her motions became more urgent, faster.
Receiving their attention only for the moment, Connor wrapped his arm around both their heads and Reinier grabbed her free hand. He entwined her fingers with Connor’s and sat up, guiding them to her mouth. She needed a little encouragement, though, so he pressed their fingers against her lower lip until she parted her lips to welcome them.
“Yes, sweet. Take his fingers into your mouth. Let them go a little, then suck at them again.”
She did as he had instructed her; quickly, Reinier laid her on her back and nudged her thighs apart while she continued to suckle Connor’s digits. Braced on his arms, he settled between her legs, pushing his cock, still painfully confined in his breeches, against her creamy core. Then he leaned down, his tongue flicking over her earlobe. “Now let your tongue run around his fingertips every time they almost slip from your lips.”
He saw she obeyed; her throat jumped as she rolled her tongue, and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked Connor’s fingers deeper into her mouth.
Reinier’s breathing was coming hard. Her honey soaked his breeches, cooling his hot flesh for just a tiny moment. “Very good,” he encouraged her, well aware that his voice was hoarse with hunger.
He wanted more. Now. It was high time they got to the heart of the matter. Rolling off her, Reinier shed his breeches, then crawled a little farther up the bed to lie on his side.
He cupped the back of her head. “Wrap your hand around me and stroke me.”
She let go of Connor and turned to her side to face Reinier. She was studying him closely now, and Reinier had to press his lips together not to chortle at the mixture of fascination and bewilderment on her face. Tentatively, her hand wrapped around him. Immediate, sizzling lust shook his body at her touch.
Reinier noticed the bed move under him. Connor must be getting rid of his breeches also, he thought, and when he looked down, he saw Connor’s arm come around her waist, his dark head bent over hers.
“Use your mouth on him,” Reinier heard Connor instruct her.
Another surge of quivering sparks, both hot and cold, washed over him as he heard the Irishman’s sensual command. Lifting her chin, she met Reinier’s gaze and hesitated. Her eyes flicked from his cock to his face and back. Timidly, she bent and opened her mouth. Reinier’s blood was pumping harder, every inch of his skin alive and burning for more. Her tongue snaked out to lick over his tip. At that, a shiver ran through him.
Her lips explored him, the taste, the feel of him. Reinier’s hips bucked on their
