again it was to brush his lips lower. And Lower. Each lick of his tongue, each press of his mouth sent shivers along her nerve endings.
She shuddered and cried out when he pushed his tongue deep into her navel and pinched her nipples at the same instant. She’d never experienced pleasure so sharp or a need so consuming.
“You’re so responsive,” he murmured as he nipped at her waist. “Better than I ever dreamed.”
The words brought their own kind of pleasure. She felt as if she should respond, but her thoughts were focused on what he was doing with his mouth and where he was headed. At least, she thought she knew where he was headed as he released her breasts, lowered to his knees and drew her legs apart. Anticipation streamed through her, and for the second time she was willing to believe that it was half the fun. But she wanted the rest of it, and she wanted it now.
Her voice was a rasp when she said, “I’m ready.”
“In a minute. I’m really getting into this data collection.”
She wanted to hit him, but she couldn’t seem to lift her arms.
And still he took his time, making her wait, making her want, until the tension building inside of her was almost unbearable. She thought she knew what was coming, what it would feel like when his mouth finally reached its destination, but the quick lick of his tongue shot through her like electricity.
She cried out, arching as her arms shot back to grip the bark of the tree.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured as he gripped her thighs to steady her. Then he pulled her closer for a deeper taste, probing first with his tongue and then more deeply with his fingers. The pleasure grew more intense as he penetrated her again and again in a slow, steady motion. But every time she thought she was close to climaxing, he drew away to trail a line of kisses down her thigh. And then he would start the process all over again.
She wanted to scream but she couldn’t find the breath. She wanted him to go on almost as much as she wanted to end the torture he was putting her through.
When he finally stood up and drew her toward the hammock, she would have done anything he wanted. On the way, he grabbed his shorts, removed a condom, and managed to get it on.
“Getting in is always a bit tricky. Turn around.”
As soon as she did, he slipped an arm around her waist and positioned her back against his chest. “When I sit, I’m going to pull you into my lap and then we’ll tumble in together.”
Her legs felt like jelly. If he hadn’t had a strong grip on her, Zoë was sure she would have landed fanny first on the ground. As it was, they made it into the hammock without a mishap. He’d been right about the close quarters, she decided. They were lying on their sides, pressed together tight like spoons in a silverware drawer. She should have been uncomfortable, yet she wasn’t. He was a solid wall behind her. Their legs were tangled; one of his lay between hers. One of his arms was trapped beneath her, and his free hand was stroking over her hip. She was very aware of his erection pressing hard against her backside, fanning the fire that he’d started inside of her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No,” she said, suddenly annoyed. “I’m not going to be okay until you’re inside of me. No more data collecting.” But when she tried to turn, intending to get on top of him, he held her still.
“So help me,” she fumed. “You’re going to pay for this.”
His chuckle rumbled again. “I sure hope so, sugar. But trust me. I’ve got a plan.”
“It better be faster than—” She broke off, distracted when he shifted slightly, lifting the leg that was between hers. “Did I mention that getting in is always a bit tricky?” Then he pushed into her in one long, slow stroke.
“Better?” he murmured against her ear.
She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure she could breathe. He was filling her and the pressure was huge. She drew air in. Maybe. “Yes.”
“You don’t sound positive. We could try something else.”
But when he started to withdraw, she reached behind and clamped a hand on his butt. “No.” She didn’t think she could stand it if he withdrew. “This is fine.”
“Fine isn’t what I’m after,” he murmured. “Let’s try this.”
He moved his left hand to cover her breast and slid his right one lower until one finger was between her folds and pressing against her clitoris. At the same moment, he withdrew and then pushed in again. The fierce lash of pleasure made her cry out.
“Shh,” he murmured, holding her still until she steadied. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she managed. “Yes. Do it again.”
He did, slowly for the first few strokes as if he were waiting for her to get used to him. When her nails dug into his butt again, he steadily increased his rhythm. The pleasure streaming through her grew more intense with every stroke. She knew her climax was close, but he still wasn’t moving fast enough, hard enough. She’d never had release build this slowly, this agonizingly. She’d never known a hunger like this. Was this what he’d meant about anticipation?
Desperate, she dug her nails one more time into his butt. “Please. I need—”
He used his mouth on her neck, biting hard on that spot that he’d located before. Then he began to move faster and faster until her orgasm finally erupted in a violent explosion of pleasure.
Even then, he didn’t slow the rhythm, and when he cried out with his own release, she climaxed again.
Afterward, he held her close for a long time until the trembling that she couldn’t seem to control stopped.
And she let him hold her. There was pleasure, a totally different kind, in lying there in the hammock with his arms holding her tight.
That one small piece of data told her that she was in deep trouble.
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