she breathed as he brushed his lips over the soaked fabric of her panties. “Oh God. I can’t—”
“Oh yes, you can.” He flicked his tongue over the cotton, and her hips lifted off the bed.
“I’ve waited so long for this.” Nuzzling his nose against her heat, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her simple underwear. Not wanting to take the time to pull them all the way off, he pulled hard and grinned when they ripped, allowing him to toss them aside.
She didn’t give him hell for destroying a second item of her clothing, just rocked from side to side on the cool sheets of his bed. He took a moment to simply look at the glistening pink of her center, hot and wet and all for him.
Jo groaned. This was the only time she got quiet, his girl—when she was aroused. It made him want to drive her so crazy that she got loud again.
It made him want to make her scream his name.
Inhaling her scent, which reminded him of some kind of exotic cinnamon, he leaned forward and swiped his tongue through her folds.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, arching up off the bed. He licked again, and she tried to close her legs against the onslaught of sensation, but he was there, the width of his shoulders holding her wide-open.
With long, slow swipes of his tongue, he licked her from bottom to top, brushing the flat of his tongue over the hard nub of her clit every time. She tasted so sweet, and he wanted more.
Using his thumbs, he parted her lips, focusing his attention on the swollen bud. Her heels began to drum into his back, her breath coming in gasps.
“Theo. I can’t. It’s too much.” He could tell that her arousal was spiking hard and high. She didn’t have much experience—hell, any experience—and he knew that it wouldn’t take much to send her over.
That was good. He was going to make her come now, and then again. He was going to make sure that she was so ready for him that when it came to the part that might hurt, she would simply melt around him like ice cream left in the hot, hot sun.
“THAT’S IT, BABY GIRL.” Using one finger, he traced around her slick opening, barely dipping inside. She groaned, arching her back, pressing herself against his mouth greedily. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
“Theo!” She bucked against his mouth as he increased the flicks of his tongue against her clit. Her thighs started to shake, and then her entire body tightened as her pleasure overtook her.
He buried his face between her legs as she came, kissing her now with broad swipes of his tongue. Her words were unintelligible, and when he looked up the slim column of her body, he saw her face flushed the prettiest shade of pink, her eyes closed, her mouth parted for the breathy little pants she didn’t seem able to help.
Before the waves stopped battering at her, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, then gently moved her legs from where they were clenched around his ears. She lay panting on the bed as he crawled up beside her, placing one hand on the dip of her impossibly slender waist.
He watched as she opened her eyes, fascinated by the glints of auburn in the mink-colored lengths of her lashes. Beneath them, those stormy gray eyes were glittering with need, and he knew, he just knew, that his dirty girl already wanted more.
“Did you like that?” He brushed his lips over the shell of her ear, nipping at the lobe. She nodded frantically but remained silent.
Squeezing her hip, he splayed his palm over the flat, quivering plane of her belly.
“What was that?” Chuckling as she garbled something in response, he slid his hand down, dipping between her legs. “I didn’t understand. I guess I’ll just have to check for myself.”
Her hands fisted in the quilt as he used his fingers to do what his tongue just had. Pinching her clit lightly, quickly, he waited until she moaned, then slid a finger into her waiting heat.
She was wet, and tight, and if she felt like fucking heaven on his finger, then what would she feel like around his cock?
“More,” Jo whispered, and he realized that she’d gone still. She was waiting, he realized, for it to hurt.
He didn’t want it to hurt.
“Are you sure?” She nodded, so he worked his finger out slowly, then in and then out.
She hissed when he added a second, scissoring them the slightest bit to stretch her. He kept his gaze on her face, searching for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he saw raw, unadulterated need.
He would make this good for her.
Returning his attention to her clit, he caught it between his fingers and rubbed. Wetness slicked her folds, and within moments another keening cry slipped from between those pretty lips. He let her ride the wave of her second orgasm before reaching over her to his mahogany bedside table, removing a small foil packet from the drawer.
Her eyes widened a bit when she saw what he’d retrieved, and he watched the slim column of her throat as she swallowed thickly.
“Are you sure about this?” It just might kill him to stop right now, with her taste on his lips and her slickness on his fingers, but he would. He’d do pretty much anything for her.
“Don’t you dare stop!” Rising up on her elbows, Jo caught his chin in her fingers and pulled him down for a kiss. She sucked in a surprised breath, and he knew that she was tasting herself on his lips.
The greedy noise that slipped from her mouth was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever heard.
With hands that were far less steady than any other time he’d done this, he tore open the foil packet. Her curious eyes watched avidly as he removed the ring of latex, smoothing the sheath down over the length of his erection.
He hissed when she reached down and danced her fingers over his cock. God, he’d dreamed of this, of her hand on him, stroking him just like this.
Pleasure began to gather all the way down in the soles of his feet, and he jerked back with a rueful laugh.
“Did I do something wrong?” She sat up, eyebrows raised in alarm.
“Not at all.” Catching her hand in his—the one that had just been stroking him—he pressed his lips to it in a kiss. “It was a little too good, actually.”
“Oh.” She drew out the word, understanding dawning. “Duly noted.”
She smirked. What choice did he have but to kiss her?
They fell back down to the bed, the covers tangling around them. Rolling on top of her, he braced his weight on his arms on either side of her head, looking down into that face that he knew like he knew his own.
Jo Marchande wasn’t classically pretty. Her face was a bit too square, her features too angular. Her milky-white skin stayed pale year-round, except for the times she got so absorbed in a book she was reading out in the sun that
