His hand went to my side and started around to my back, which obediently arched. Still kissing me, he sat up, the hand on my back urging me to follow him, and we rose together.
I whimpered into his kiss when he pushed my blouse over my shoulders, fingertips following it until it fell away completely. Once it was gone, he wrapped his arms around me and ran his hands up and down my back, my sides, my arms, exploring every inch of exposed skin the way his mouth explored my own.
When he went for the clasp of my bra, my nipples ached and tingled. I didn’t know what I wanted him to touch them with first—his skilled fingers or his sensual, attentive mouth—but I knew I wanted him to touch them. Soon. Now.
He tried to unsnap the clasp, but failed. Tried again. And again.
“Damn it,” he muttered.
“Need a hand?”
He laughed. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” Willing my fingers to cooperate, I reached back and unsnapped it, shrugging just enough to let the straps fall over my shoulders. He slid them the rest of the way down my arms, then cupped my breast. The tip of his thumb made a slow circle around my nipple, turning my insides to liquid. I put my arms around him and pulled him closer, but even casually using him for support was useless when the heat of his skin melted my spine.
He must have known how precariously aroused I was, because with one hand still on my back, he guided me back down to the bed.
No longer needing to hold onto him to keep myself from collapsing, my hands were free to roam his gorgeous body and feel him. Feel him everywhere. With only the lightest touch of my fingertips, I traced every curve and contour of his muscles. He moaned against my lips when my palms drifted down his sides to his narrow waist, pausing on the cool leather of his belt. I followed his belt to its buckle, and he raised his hips enough to grant me access. I slid my hand between us, squeezing him gently through his jeans and smiling into his kiss when his breath caught.
Shifting his weight onto one arm, he reached for his belt with his free hand, but I gently pushed it away.
“I can do it,” I said.
“I know you can.” He kissed me lightly. “But I want your hands on me.”
“My hands are on you.” I squeezed him again, then traced the outline of his cock with one finger.
He closed his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” I gently dragged my nails along the front of his jeans until his lips parted and his eyebrows knitted together. “And I’m getting there.” Frustration tried to show itself in the grooves between his eyebrows and the thinness of his lips, but quickly disappeared when I drew his zipper down and unbuckled his belt. The buckle, no longer quite so cold now that it had been between our bodies for so long, still gave me goose bumps when it touched my skin because I was now that much closer to touching more of his skin.
And I was desperate to touch him. Between the two of us, we got his jeans and boxers over his hips and out of the way, and when my fingers closed around his cock, my entire body reacted as if he’d just thrust deep inside me. A wave of cool heat rushed through me like a phantom orgasm. Or a prelude to the real thing. We both gasped, trying to draw the same air from the space between our lips, and I couldn’t quite tell whose tremors were whose as I stroked him.
Forget more foreplay. I was still half-dressed, he hadn’t even touched me below the waist yet, but if I didn’t have him inside me in the next few seconds, I was going to need medical attention.
“I want you—” I hesitated. I’d never been the one to make that move, to make that call. Self-consciousness lodged the words in my throat.
“You want me to what?” A playful lilt nearly masked the unsteadiness in his voice.
“I—” I took a breath, unable to look away from him, but unable to say what it was I wanted when he looked at me so intently.
He must have known, because he bent and kissed my collarbone, freeing me from the scrutiny of his eyes only to distract me with delicious contact. His lips went from my collarbone to my neck and electricity went from my pussy to every nerve in my body.
“You want…?” A simple prompt to coax me to speak, to try to tease the words out of me, but the vibration of his voice against my throat silenced me.
I finally whispered, “You.”
The shudder that ran down his spine pushed his body closer to mine and his cock pressed against my hip. He raised his head and kissed me passionately.
Without a word, he reached over the edge of the bed for his jeans while I kicked my own off.
Riffling around in one of his pockets, he muttered something under his breath. Then he froze. “Oh, son of a…”
“What’s wrong?”
He cursed, then looked at me over his shoulder. “I don’t suppose you have any condoms handy?”
My heart sank. “No, I don’t.”
“Damn it. Neither do I.” He cursed again, then rejoined me on the bed. “I guess we’ll just have to save that for another night.”
I tried not to groan or roll my eyes at the situation. No condoms, no sex. We could still fool around, but I couldn’t have him inside me. Frustration tightened in my gut. Guess he’s getting his and I get to wait until ‘another night.’ I loved pleasing a man, but if I didn’t relieve some of this tension, I was going to lose my mind.
“Fortunately,” he whispered against my lips as his hand moved down my side to my hip, “there are plenty of other things we can do tonight.” His hand drifted across my hip and parted my thighs but continued its downward trek, trailing his fingers almost to my knee before starting back up. Closing my eyes, I sucked in a breath through my teeth when a single fingertip just barely touched my pussy.
He pushed himself up on one arm and flicked his tongue across my nipple. “I can’t do everything I want to do, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave here without making you come a few times.”
My breath caught, as much from his words as the way his fingers gently circled my clit. I wasn’t used to a man who was so willing—eager, even—to get me off when he knew he wasn’t going to fuck me that night. My orgasms were always a means to an end, a step toward my partner getting what he ultimately wanted. If he wasn’t going to get that, then why bother?
Disbelief melted away as reality took the form of Connor’s palm resting against my clit while his teeth gently held my nipple so his tongue could tease it. Two fingers slipped inside me, and a low growl emerged from the back of his throat.
“Jesus, Dani,” he whispered, withdrawing his fingers and slowly sliding them back in, all the while pressing his palm against my clit. With a mix of arousal and frustration, he said, “I can’t even tell you how much I want to be inside you.”
I bit my lip and moaned, my hips moving in time with his hand’s slow, easy motion.
“Oh my God, Connor,” I breathed, his name rolling off my tongue as naturally as if we’d been lovers for years. “That’s…” I whimpered as his fingertips gently stroked my G-spot. “That’s incredible.”
“You’re right, it is.” His voice wavered slightly, his eyes filled with something like wonderment. “I love the way you—” A sharp breath cut him off. “I love the way you move with my hand.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I know, and I love it,” he said. “When my hand moves faster, your hips move faster.” He sped up just slightly, and my body responded immediately. “And when I slow down, so do you.” He did. I did.
“God, yes,” he whispered against my neck. “I can’t wait to feel you move that way when I fuck you.” He kissed just below my jaw. “I want you so badly, Dani.” He exhaled hard, a tremor rippling through him, right down to the fingertips that played against my G-spot. “I want to be inside you, I want to feel you, and I want to be completely at your mercy.”
All I could do was moan.
His rhythm was more deliberate now, no longer marveling at the way we moved together but seeking that perfect speed, that perfect pre
ssure, to grant me release.
Just when I was about to come, when madness was just beyond my reach, his hand stopped.
“Don’t stop,” I moaned, completely unashamed of the desperation in my voice.
“I’m not. I’m just getting started.” He brought his hand up and let two fingertips touch my lips. I took a breath, the scent of myself making me dizzy. Without thinking, I licked my lips, the tip of my tongue brushing his finger. The brief taste overwhelmed me and I wanted more, more of myself on him, and I sucked his fingers into my mouth, letting the sweet of my pussy and the salt of his skin consume me.
He gently took his hand back, but before I could even think to protest, he kissed me. A throaty growl hummed against my lips as his tongue met mine. The taste of his mouth combined with my own pussy was beyond overwhelming, and the more I tasted of both, the hungrier I became.
When he broke the kiss, Connor was breathless.
“My God, I love the way you taste,” he said, exhaling just before he kissed me one more time. His lips traveled down my jaw, my neck, my chest. “I love the way you taste… everywhere…” He drew my nipple between his lips and teased it, sweeping his tongue across it a couple times for good measure, just in case I had any sanity left.
He continued kissing his way down the center of my chest and my belly, then to my side, inching closer to my hip. His stubbled jaw brushed my side and the feather light touch of his lips sent electricity up my spine.
He parted my legs with the touch of a fingertip, then kissed his way down my inner thigh as he settled onto his forearms. A whimper of anticipation escaped my throat as he held my hips in both hands and his lips again touched my inner thigh. Kiss by kiss, his mouth neared my pussy. When he was just a single kiss away from my clit, he murmured something I couldn’t hear, something that resonated across nerves that could only register the sweet oblivion he promised with every touch.
“I should warn you,” he said, this time loud enough for me to hear, “I can do this all night.” Before my lust-occupied mind could translate the words, Connor’s lips closed around my clit.
His mouth was beyond incredible. He explored, tasted, flicked here, circled there. Every motion was subtle and precise, making sure I was fully aware of every way he touched me and that I truly felt every tremor and shiver he created.
One hand released my hip and he once again slipped two fingers inside me. Crooking them slightly, he found my G-spot, his fingertips matching the slow, smooth motion of his tongue. He effortlessly brought me right back to the delicious crossroads between desire and delirium, and there he held me, teasing me with this denial of the one thing I would have begged for had speech still been possible.
And still, he kept me there until, with just the right flutter of his tongue and stroke of his fingers, he granted me release. White-hot electricity shot up my spine and crackled across my perspiration-glazed skin as everything in and around me exploded.
The room spun and I heard my own voice, was sure my lips at least attempted to form words, but couldn’t be sure just what, if anything, I said. And I didn’t care. Even as I came down, as I drew a breath of cool air that slowed the spinning sensation, my world revolved solely around the point of contact between his mouth and my pussy.
He backed off just enough to let me return to Earth and keep me from getting hypersensitive, his tongue maintaining the softest, gentlest motion around—but no longer touching—my clit. His fingers remained a constant, still presence against my G-spot, easing off just enough to let me breathe.
But he didn’t stop.
Though he held back now, everything he did promised more. This wasn’t a winding-down, a gradual loss of momentum before the inevitable halt. It wasn’t a conclusion, but an intermission.
“Connor,” I said. “Connor, I want…”
“Hmm?” he murmured against my clit, the vibration liquefying my thoughts. Then he kissed my inner thigh, giving me a chance to breathe and collect what was left of my rational mind.
“I want…” I struggled to find my breath. “To do something for you.”
Against my skin, his lips curled into a smile. His fingers moved almost imperceptibly inside me, and he looked up. “Trust me, Dani. You are.”
“You know what I mean. You’re doing”—I gasped when his warm breath whispered across my pussy—“everything for me, I want to…”
The movement of his fingers changed, reversing direction and circling just a little faster, pressing just a little harder.
“I can wait,” he said. “There’s no need to hurry.” He closed his lips around my clit and his fingers continued gaining speed. The bed sheets bunched in my hands and my back lifted off the bed. The intermission was over.
His mouth stopped, but his fingers kept me on the path to another orgasm, maintaining his momentum as he looked up at me again.
“There’s plenty of time for you to do whatever you want to me, but I love the way you taste when you come.” Just before he went back down to my clit and sent me out of my mind, his voice dipped to a breathy growl, “And I have got to taste it again.”
Chapter Four
Buckling Jester’s halter was a simple task, one I’d performed thousands of times, but it was a bit complicated today. My eyes refused to focus and my fingers didn’t want to cooperate. My mind was a thick cloud of fatigue that even a quad-shot espresso couldn’t quite penetrate.
I yawned and led him out of his stall into the aisle. I clipped the cross-ties to his halter and went about brushing him, my exhausted muscles protesting every movement as my eyes threatened again and again to close. Though I’d never in my life been so tired, I wasn’t about to complain. I’d managed a precious hour or two of sleep before I’d had to be at work, but not nearly enough to render me functional and coherent.
Normally, I started my day with some of the more challenging horses. Orion, the warmblood no one had bothered to train for his first five years. Xena, the jumper who was a stubborn mix of dumb as a post and too smart for her own good. Dante, the trainwreck of an ex-racehorse with about three years’ worth of horrible training that needed to be undone. It was better to deal with them early in the day, then move on to the easier horses.
Those three most likely had today off. I didn’t dare approach any of them when I was in such a foggy state of mind, and if my second espresso didn’t break through, then there was no point in bothering today. A day off wouldn’t kill them.
So I started with Jester, one of my own horses. A late morning trail ride on a mellow creature like him was just what the doctor ordered and at least stood a chance of waking me up. Worse came to worse, if I was too tired to navigate, Jester knew the way home.
When I cross-tied him in the aisle, he nudged my hip, nibbling at the pocket of my jeans.
“No treats yet, silly boy.” I gathered his long forelock and tucked it under his halter so it would stay out of his eyes. He again tried to investigate my pocket and I gently pushed him away. “You have to work before you get a treat, you know that.” The look he gave me could only be described as pouty. I laughed and scratched his neck before grabbing a brush to clean him up.
While I groomed and saddled him, my mind wandered, and for all my inability to think coherently, one thing kept itself firmly planted at the forefront of my mind: Last night.
With my number in his phone, the taste of his kiss on my lips, and the promise of a rematch to finish what we’d started, Connor had left with the rising sun. He’d left me smiling, aching… and wondering.
I wanted more. I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted him to fulfill all the promises and fantasies he’d whispered in my ear in that strained, nearly-there voice.
But then what?
Though casual sex had never been my thing, after last night, I could certainly see myself sleeping with Connor with nothing except physical pleasure in mind. The fact that I’d never had a strictly sexual fling before seemed like a ridiculous reason to forego a chance at doing just that with him
. With all the orgasms he’d given me and all the things he could do with his mouth and hands, if all he wanted was something sexual, I was more than willing to oblige.
But what if he wanted more?
I was only a few months out of a long relationship. A long, miserable relationship. I’d given Matt entirely too much of myself, up to and including leaving my hometown to follow him to the Pacific Northwest, and I was still picking up the pieces from that. I wasn’t ready to give anyone anything I couldn’t take back on a moment’s notice.
Susan’s voice shook me back into the present. “So, how did it go?”
I looked up, pretending she hadn’t startled the hell out of me. She had a bridle on her shoulder and her arms folded across her chest, a knowing grin on her face.
“How did what go?” I asked.
“You know, with Connor?” Her eyebrows lifted. “Last night?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek to suppress a smirk, trying to I focus on buckling Jester’s girth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She shifted her weight and the bridle on her shoulder jingled. “Woman, please. I saw the way he was looking at you.”
“So?” I said. “It was just a look.”
“Uh-huh, and I know that look,” she said. “Don’t even try it, Dani. I know that man way better than you do.”
I grinned. “Oh, do you now?”
“I knew it!” She laughed, almost squealing. “So, how was he?”
“Well, if you already know—”
“I don’t know him in the Biblical sense,” she said. “I just know him well enough to know when he’s set his sights on someone, and girl, from the way he was looking at you, I’m surprised he didn’t eat you alive.”
I snorted with laughter.
“What, do—oh for God’s sake.” She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “That’s not what I meant.” Then she grinned. “I’m guessing you had a good time, though?”
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