Mr One-Night Stand. Rachael Stewart

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Mr One-Night Stand - Rachael Stewart Mills & Boon Dare

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down to meet the ruched fabric of her dress before returning to smooth over her shoulders and down her front.

      She bit back a whimper of anticipation as he met with her bra and then he slipped his hands inside, his heated palms brushing fleetingly against her taut and swollen peaks before they dipped to cup her, the brief contact an erotic torture as they begged for more.

      ‘So beautiful...’ he said softly, his hands weighing her in his palms as his thumbs stroked upwards, their pads meeting with her pleading buds and rolling over them.

      Pleasure shot through her, and she threw her head back as a moan tore from her throat.

      ‘You like that?’

      ‘Yes!’ she cried. The heavenly combination of his hands on her body and his hardness at her clit had her rocking wildly, and she could feel the tell-tale tension mounting.

      ‘I need to see you.’

      With those gruff words he took hold of the band of her bra and tugged hard, forcing her breasts to spill out. He groaned, his head coming forward as he closed his mouth around one stiff peak, sucking it back into the cavern of his mouth, teasing it and then releasing it to let his teeth nip, his tongue lap. He did the same with the other, one hand coming up to join in the attention, his fingers pinching and rolling, his palm groping.

      Outside, a car horn sounded as another torrential wave of rain pounded at the roof. The worldly sounds were a reminder of where they were, but it only served to take her higher, every bit of her becoming a tense powerhouse about to crack.

      ‘I’m gonna come...’ she moaned. ‘I can’t take... I can’t...’

      His answer was to nip harder, to drive her hips against him, to encourage her further, higher than she could ever remember being with any man. And then she was crying out. Her body was going into spasm as wave after wave consumed her. She heard him groan as he buried his head in her chest, holding her against him, taking each rock of her body until she was spent.

      With cheeks flushed, she made herself straighten, conscious of time passing. ‘How long do we have?’

      ‘About twenty minutes.’

      He traced a hand down her back and she shuddered at his lustful gaze. ‘Perfect.’

      ‘Is that so...?’

      She made an affirmative noise as she bowed to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose, his lips, across his jawbone... Reaching his neck, she flicked her tongue out and revelled in the salty essence of him, knowing he was overheating at her hands.

      ‘And why would that be?’

      His voice cracked on the last word as she cupped him, her fingers testing the rigid length of him. She was desperate to expose him to her hands, her gaze, her mouth...

      ‘It’s time enough for me to return the favour,’ she said, placing her hands on his thighs and slipping from his lap, coming to nestle on her knees between his feet on the floor.

      The car took a bend and she steadied herself using his legs, her fingers biting into his flesh.

      ‘Easy,’ he said, taking hold of her arm and using his free hand to gain purchase on the trim of the car.

      She smiled up at him. Christ, he was so hot.

      She wanted to imprint the sight of him in her mind, all dishevelled and feverish. The feeling of excitement at having him at her mercy, the heat of his grip on her bare arm, the cool air of the car keeping her exposed nipples pert and alert. Her clit had barely recovered and the throb was back with a vengeance.

      She dropped her eyes to his belt, to his zipper, the fastening taut as his hardness pressed against it. Her mouth salivated as she smoothed her hands along his thighs until they reached the object of her fascination.

      ‘You are truly beautiful,’ he said, the hand at her arm dropping to cup her breast, his fingers and thumb caressing her sensitised skin.

      The knowledge that he was enjoying the sight of her semi-nakedness was just as thrilling as his touch. She bit her lip against the resurging tension. It was his turn.

      Forcing herself to concentrate, she fed the leather of his belt through the loops. The metal from its buckle jangled as she parted it, the sound oddly thrilling, making her fingers quiver as she undid his button. Then, taking hold of his zip tab, she paused to look at him from beneath her lashes.

      ‘You can tell me to stop, if you want?’

      She was purposely teasing him, needing to have the memory of his earlier hesitation forgotten, obliterated by his total surrender.

      And she had it.

      He looked to her with almost pained ferocity, his expression dark and erotically charged as he thrust one hand into her hair. ‘Fuck, no.’

      She gave him a wicked grin, his impassioned response going to her head as she slid the zipper down. ‘That’s better.’

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