She lifted her head so she could watch as he worked. Yep, he definitely knew what he was doing. It wasn’t long before the pleasure had built to such a point she couldn’t take any more. She writhed dramatically as she clung to the headboard and sobbed out her frustration.
He was doing it on purpose. Leading her on. Keeping her from coming.
“Damn it,” Lance muttered, lifting his head to meet her eyes. The lower half of his face was soaking wet. “Try to stay still. I’m never going to get you going good if you flail about like that.”
She huffed out her indignation, but it would have been more effective had she not been trying to hump his forearm. “You’re the one torturing me.”
“Since you’ve been torturing me for months, it’s only fair.” He was smiling again as he hooked her legs over his shoulders and got a better hold on her hips before he went to work again with wet, eager, incredibly effective use of his mouth and tongue.
He wasn’t teasing her this time. He was giving her everything. It took her about thirty seconds to come hard, crying out so loud she tried to muffle the sound by turning her head into a pillow. Not giving her any downtime, he readjusted his arms so he could slide two fingers inside her, pumping them hard and building her right back up.
She banged the headboard against the wall and tried to ride his hand, crying out again when the tension broke in new waves of sensation. Then Lance lowered his face to suck on her clit, his fingers still inside her, bringing her to another intense release.
It went on a long time, until she was hoarse and exhausted. “Enough of that,” she finally gasped, reaching down in an attempt to pull his head up.
He straightened almost immediately. He was just as messy as she was—his hair tangled and damp with sweat, his cheeks deeply flushed, and her moisture smeared all around his mouth. He wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand and smiled down at her. “Enough of everything or just of that?”
“Just of that. But you’re still going to have to do most of the work because all that orgasming was exhausting. I’m going to lie right here on my back, and you’re going to get on top of me, and you’re going to fuck me with whatever you have left.”
He was laughing softly as he pulled the pillow out from under her hips and climbed up her body. He was fully erect again—he had been for a while now—and she reached down to take him in her hands, feeling the size and texture and heat of him.
He leaned down to kiss her with a softness that surprised her. “You’re a very bossy lover. Did you know that?”
“I’m only bossy because you’re so slow. Don’t you want to fuck me again?”
“Of course I want to fuck you.” He pressed a few more light kisses on and around her mouth. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for ages.”
“Really? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I didn’t want to be laughed at.” He licked the line of her lips. “I didn’t know you’d be into it too.”
“Just for casual-slash-hate sex.”
“Understood. I’d never be fool enough to think it was anything else.” He fit himself between her legs and then bent her knees up around his hips until they were in the position he wanted. He nudged at her entrance with the tip of his shaft. “You sore?”
“A little. Maybe not so rough this time.”
“Got it.”
He pushed into her slowly and then paused so they could adjust to the penetration and he could help her wrap her legs around his waist. Then he braced himself above her and began a steady thrusting motion that seemed to stroke the innermost parts of her.
He was definitely more in control this time. He had the focus to kiss her, to cup her butt and guide her rhythm, to adjust his angle so she was getting better friction against her clit. It went on for a while, and she enjoyed every minute of it. But eventually her body remembered what it always seemed to be striving for and started to tense up and clench down.
“Oh fuck. You getting closer now?”
“Yeah.” She tried to get her legs higher around his torso. “Yeah. Yeah.”
His speed accelerated, and his fingers dug into the soft flesh at the back of her thighs. “This time you’re going to come before I do.”
“M-maybe.” She said that mostly so he wouldn’t think she was backing down. It was crystal clear that she was going to come any moment now. Her hips were pumping eagerly, chasing the release.
“Definitely.” He leaned down to suck on her neck. Combined with the intercourse, it felt so good she let out a loud cry. “There you go. Almost there. Come for me. Let it all go.”
She was making those loud sobbing sounds again. There was no way she could hold them back. He was taking her hard and fast, shaking her body, shaking the bed. Her spine arched as the tension coiled down and then suddenly released.
He let out a bellow that matched her cry of release, but he wasn’t quite there yet. As soon as she’d clamped down around him, he let go of the reins he’d been holding on his need. He pushed vigorously into her, letting out a loud grunt with each hard thrust. It sounded as much like effort as pleasure, like he was working as hard as he could.
His motion extended her pleasure, so she was just barely coming down when he lost it.
His face twisted dramatically. His hips jerked clumsily. Shudders ran all through his body as he came in several hard spurts inside her.
They lay tangled together for a minute afterward, their bodies softening, their breathing ragged. Then he rolled onto his back beside her with a long groan.
“That was exhausting,” she said, turning onto her stomach but looking at him.
“You’re telling me.” He was drenched in sweat. Sprawled out completely naked with no evident self-consciousness. “I haven’t had that kind of workout in ages.”
She knew for sure she’d never come so often and so powerfully as she had with him, but it didn’t seem wise to give him that kind of ego boost. So she said instead, “Me either.” She gave him a tired grin. “You’re really loud in bed. Did you know that?”
“Yes, I know that. Never had any complaints in the past. But I assume you know you’re pretty loud yourself.”
She’d actually never considered herself a loud lover before, but she’d been different with Lance. Less inhibited. Not so worried she was making a fool of herself.
He reached over to stroke some hair off her damp face. “Maybe you were louder with me than with anyone else.”
“Ha!” It wasn’t a great comeback, but it was all she could come up with in her warm, sated haze.
He chuckled and trailed his fingertips down her bare skin until he’d reached the small of her back. “Why didn’t I know you have a tattoo?”
“Because there was no reason for you to know. Why would that be something I told you?”
“I don’t know. I just assumed I’d know. I’m your husband.”
“But this is the first time we’re seeing each other naked.”
“True. It’s a bird.”
“Yes, it’s a bird.”
“What kind of bird?”
“Just a bird.”
He was frowning thoughtfully as he caressed the inked spot. “Why get a bird?”
“I was nineteen. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Symbolic and all that.”
His hand was moving in wider circles now, rubbing her back and bottom. Idly rather than intentionally. “Because you wanted to get away from here? Fly high? Be free?”
He’d gotten it on the first try—guessed her silly, immature teenage thought processes. She licked her lips and lifted her eyes to his face.
He wasn’t laughing. Just watching her thoughtfully.
She nodded, dropping her eyes.
He didn’t say anything, but his hand moved back to her face, stroking her hair back again.
The gesture felt way too gentle. It was making her stomach flutter. Any more of that kind of thing would ruin her yummy, satisfied vibes from the sex. So she rolled away from his hand and towar
d the side of the bed, then hauled herself to her feet.
Once in the bathroom, she peed and cleaned herself up. Next she splashed water onto her hot face, brushed her teeth, and gave her hair a quick comb through. When she went back out into the room, Lance was in the same position, watching her quietly.
She grabbed a cotton gown from one of her drawers and pulled it on with some clean underwear, steadfastly ignoring him.
“So what do you think?” Lance asked from the bed.
“About what?”
“About this. Was it a onetime thing, or do you want to do it again?”
She paused, thinking through the question seriously. “I thought I’d feel weird afterward, but I don’t. So maybe I’ll want to do it again. I’m not sure.”
She hadn’t realized there was any tension in his face, but it relaxed slightly. “All right. Good. Just let me know. If you want to go back to abstinence for the next three months, I’ll manage, but if you want to have some more fun, all you have to do is ask.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Lance said, pushing himself to a sitting position.
“I’m about to fall into bed and not move until morning,” she told him. “So you probably want to head back to your own room. That’s what happens after casual-slash-hate sex, right?”
“Right.” He gave her an irrepressible eyebrow twitch as he pulled his boxers back on. “You did pretty well for your first try.”
She rolled her eyes. “And you did pretty well after your first try.”
“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Probably not.”
“Not even after I made up for it abundantly afterward.”
“Not even then.”
They grinned at each other for a minute. Then Lance started to walk out of the room, picking up his socks along the way.
“Hey Carlyle,” she called after him.
He turned to meet her eyes.
“It was really good.”
His face softened and he came back toward her, leaning down to give her a soft kiss. “I thought so too.”
Five
THE NEXT MORNING, SAVANNAH woke up with her whole body aching. She’d forgotten how sore a couple of rounds of vigorous sex could leave her.
But that was okay. Every time she felt the pangs, she remembered how much fun she’d had with Lance, and it gave her a silly little flush. She took a shower first thing—she still felt some lingering stickiness—and then dressed in thick leggings and a long, soft sweater, which was as close as her everyday clothes got to cozy pajamas.
Her first appointment wasn’t until ten that morning, so she was in no hurry to get out the door. She brought her laptop out to the kitchen island, figuring she could tweak one of her video projects as she drank her coffee.
At seven fifteen she glanced around, wondering where Lance was. He was usually getting back from his workout by then. His bedroom was farther down the hall, so she hadn’t noticed if the door was open or closed. But he never missed working out in the morning except for a few days in February when he’d been sick in bed. Maybe he’d just slept in a bit later than normal, extending his workout a few minutes.
She let the thought slip from her mind as she got involved in the video footage she’d taken at last weekend’s wedding. She obviously hadn’t been hired to put something together—she’d gone only as Lance’s wife—but she’d gotten some good stuff and was thinking it would be a nice gift for the bride and groom.
Distracted, she jerked in surprise when someone came up behind her and gave a piece of her hair a tweak before walking around the island and into the kitchen.
Her eyes widened as she took in Lance’s appearance. His hair in wild disarray. His sleep pants dipping low on his hips. His eyelids heavy and oddly sensual.
“You skipped your workout!” It wasn’t a question. More of a delighted exclamation.
He gave her a disdainful glare that might have been effective had he not just rolled out of bed.
“You never skip your workout. I thought you had inhuman discipline when it came to exercise.”
He poured coffee from the pot she’d made into a mug and walked around to sit on the stool next to hers. Resting his head on his hand, he turned to give her a smug little smile. “Sorry to disappoint, but that workout last night more than made up for what I missed this morning. I hope you appreciate my efforts.”
“Your efforts? I did quite a bit of the work myself, you know. Every inch of my body is sore this morning.”
His smirk shifted so slowly she barely knew it was happening, but it went from smug to almost fond. “Your efforts were definitely appreciated.”
“Good.” Her cheeks felt warm, which was ridiculous given the circumstances. “Yours too.”
“Glad to hear it. And if you want a quick little refresher workout this morning, I’m sure I could summon the—”
“Oh my God, Carlyle.”
He cocked his eyebrow. “That a no?”
“That’s a ‘you’ve got to be out of your mind if you think you’re getting to do any sort of thrusting in my body today.’”
He laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We could do something that doesn’t involve thrusting.”
“I don’t think so. I need at least twenty-four hours to recover from last night.”
“All right. Twenty-four hours of recovery. Sounds reasonable.” He gave her a decidedly naughty sidelong look as he took a swallow of coffee.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m not making any promises about tomorrow.”
“Got it. No promises. We’ll just see what happens.” His lips were sober, but a smile pulled at the corners like he couldn’t quite hold it back.
It made Savannah smile too.
They sat for a minute, drinking coffee and trying not to smile at each other. Then Lance’s eyes lowered to her computer screen.
He straightened up abruptly. “Why do you have that pulled up?”
She glanced down, realizing she’d paused with the footage of Lance dancing with the girl at last week’s wedding. “Oh. I was editing something for Chuck and Mary. I had some good footage from the wedding and thought they might appreciate it.”
“Do you really have to include that?”
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s the best footage I’ve got.”
He made a face, shifting restlessly on his stool as he peered at the screen.
She said more gently, “It’s adorable. It only makes you look better.”
“You think?”
“Yes, I do. It’s really good.” She let the footage run and found herself smiling rather stupidly as she watched Lance’s expression and lean, attractive body as he interacted with the little girl.
Lance’s eyes were moving back and forth between her laptop and her face. “All right,” he murmured at last. “If you think it’s good.”
His agreeing to use the footage—trusting her judgment—made her feel even more fluttery than she had before. She swallowed over the feeling and kept her voice dry. “Of course, it completely blows your reputation of cool superiority.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
She chuckled as she trimmed the clip to fit the spot she wanted to put it in the video. “People will know for sure what they’ve only suspected before. That you’re actually human.”
He didn’t answer, so after a minute she glanced at him. To her relief, he didn’t look offended or closed off. Just strangely thoughtful.
“I knew you were human before,” she added.
“Did you? Since when?”
She’d seen him sick earlier this year. She’d had to bring him soup and change his sheets. She’d seen him laughing so hard over a stupid British comedy on television that the beer he’d been drinking had come out of his nose. She’d seen him so drunk in high school that he’d puked all over a gas station parking lot. She’d seen
him cry at fourteen when his grandfather died.
“I don’t know,” she admitted softly, dropping her eyes.
Both of them were quiet. He adjusted his body, easing himself a bit closer to her. He reached over to tilt her face up to look at him.
Her heart fluttered so wildly it scared the hell out of her. She managed a bland smile. “I guess I first discovered your humanness when you were trying that ridiculous stunt on the playground and fell out of the swing and busted your head open.”
His expression shifted into a wry amusement. “You would remember that unfortunate incident.” He ran his fingers through his hair on the right side of his head. “I still have a scar somewhere.”
“Really?” Intrigued, she stood up and peered at his head, moving his thick hair out of the way until she found the pale, inch-long scar. “Shit, you do. It’s a wonder you didn’t kill yourself, trying to impress everyone with how high you could get and crash-landing instead.”
“Story of my life.”
She shot him a quick look at the tone of his low mutter but couldn’t see anything but relaxed amusement on his face. “And the story of my life has been always wanting to fly like a bird but never managing to get off the ground.” She wasn’t sure why she said that. She shouldn’t have. To hide her moment of vulnerability, she shifted her tone as she added, “Anyway, I’m just playing around with this video in my spare time. I thought it would be nice to send Chuck and Mary.”
“They’ll really appreciate it.”
“Don’t you need to go shower and dress?”
He glanced at the clock on the oven. “Yep. I definitely do.”
“So the first step toward that goal would be to stand up.”
With a roll of his eyes, he pushed himself up from his stool. It seemed to take great effort, and he stretched his arms in front of his chest, one after the other, and Savannah couldn’t help but leer at the way the muscles flexed.
He saw her looking.
Of course he did.
A Wedded Arrangement (Convenient Marriages, #3) Page 8