“Okay, okay, okay.” She mock pouted and shimmied backward, forcing his legs straight so she had room to work. Leaning in close, she pulled in a low, sexy breath and pressed her lips to his sternum. Her words came out husky and hot against skin. “Have I mentioned you’re bossy?”
“Once or twice,” he croaked, his thoughts too tangled up by the press of her mouth and the way she licked a path down his belly to come up with any witty retorts.
With nimble fingers, she worked his button and zipper. The denim parted, giving his brief-covered dick much-needed breathing room, but before he could appreciate the relief, she cupped him through the cotton and squeezed.
“Fuck.” He flexed against her palm and fisted his hands at his sides, the mix of her bold grip and the open wonder on her face drawing his nuts up tight. “Remind me never to piss you off. You play this dirty when we’re on good terms, I’ll never live through makeup sex.”
She lifted her innocent gaze to his and licked her lower lip. “Was that bad?”
“Oh no. Not bad at all. Only one thing that would make it better.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He covered her hand on his cock, guided it up and then under his briefs. “Now it’s perfect.”
Undiluted hunger flashed behind her near-black eyes, and her tiny fingers wrapped around his shaft, the heat of her palm scalding his skin in the abso-fucking-lutely best torture known to man.
Lifting his butt, he shoved his briefs and jeans past his hips. Only when he’d worked them to his thighs did she snap out of her stupor and help him finish the job, tugging the denim free. The heavy fabric had barely hit the floor before she resumed her place, one knee on either side of his legs. She traced a bulging vein along the top side of his cock in a barely there touch. The light contact shouldn’t have been so shocking after her firm grasp of seconds before, but it powered through him like a lightning bolt.
“I think you’re right.” She reached the end of him and circled the pre-come pooled there. When she swiped her slick finger beneath the sensitive ridge, it was all he could do not to buck her off him. “Lights are a great idea.”
“Glad to hear it, darlin’, ’cause now it’s my turn.” Before she could protest, he knifed up, gripped her hips and dragged her so she straddled his cock. He toyed with one of the tiny straps, running his finger beneath it and teasing the sensitive flesh along the top swell of her breast.
Bracing herself with hands on his shoulders, she circled her hips. “I didn’t get to enjoy my turn very long.”
Trevor tugged the strap down and let it hang loose around her bicep. “You want me to stretch out and let you explore, I’ll give you carte blanche later.” Much later. As in after he’d felt her come around his cock and they were too boneless to think, let alone talk.
He lifted his gaze to hers and guided the other strap over her shoulder. The loose top slithered down her torso and pooled in a featherlight circle around her waist.
“Perfect.” It came out as reverent as he meant it, his heart urging him to step shit up and add some tactile appreciation to the mix. Since the first time he and his buds from school had pilfered a dirty magazine, he’d known he was a tit man. Big, little, it didn’t matter. He loved them all. But Nat’s rack was a thing of beauty. The gold standard that would forever make every other woman’s breasts pale in comparison—natural and full with dark nipples that practically begged for his mouth. He skimmed his fingertips up her rib cage and dragged his thumbs along the skin beneath them.
A shiver worked through her torso and the already tight points hardened further. Her eyes slid shut and she rolled her shoulders back, silently urging him for more. “Trevor.”
“Yeah, babe, I got you.” He trailed a path up the center of each breast and circled her areolas, keeping the contact light. He pinched each tip, not enough to hurt but enough to gauge her response.
She groaned and let her head drop back.
“More?”
“Yes.”
Thank fuck, because the way his body was thrumming he wasn’t sure he could maintain gentle for long. He rolled her nipples between his fingers and increased the pressure, gently tugging her toward him. “Lean over here, sweetheart. Need these sweet nipples in my mouth.”
She moved quickly, a breathy but schoolgirl-cute “Okay” whispering past her lips as she tilted forward and gave him what he wanted. He loved that about her, too. No games. No sexual posturing and trying and put herself in the best light possible. Just adorable, sexy Natalie eager to dive in and enjoy.
Filling his palms with her heavy breasts, he pushed them together and got to work, licking and sucking to his heart’s content.
Her hips rolled with each draw, and her nails bit into his shoulders. When he scraped his teeth along one peak, her head dropped forward and her dark hair spilled around them. Christ, it was like he’d died and gone to heaven, her flowery scent and the taste of her skin rocketing his need off the charts. At this rate he wouldn’t get his cock inside her without coming, and no way in hell was that happening until he got a taste of her pussy.
Not giving her time to brace, he rolled them to her back, hooked his fingers in her pajamas as he sat back on his heels and peeled them down her legs in one unbroken motion.
It was a bad move, one he should have known better than to make given how the sight of her tits alone had thrown him into outer-orbit, but fuck if he could do anything about it now. He was too shell-shocked. Too utterly undone to force his slack jaw shut and ease her into the slow appreciation she deserved.
Uncertainty quavered in her voice. “Trevor?”
He couldn’t find the right words. Wanted to desperately, but he doubted any language had words ample to cover how gorgeous she was. He forced his gaze to hers, taking time to soak in every generous curve and her creamy skin along the way. “We are never, ever doing this with the lights off.”
She smiled, relief and that innocent goodness that made her who she was flickering back to life.
He centered himself between her knees, smoothed his hands up her outer thighs, and squeezed the voluptuous slope between her waist and hips. A faint scar arched low on her abdomen, one that some men might have considered a flaw on an otherwise perfect canvas, but all he could do was marvel at how she made it look sexy. He dipped low and traced it with his lips. “No words, Natalie. Not one that does you justice.”
“You don’t have to say that. I know having a kid changed me.”
“Got no idea how you looked before and don’t really care,” he murmured against her skin. He licked lower, painting a wicked path toward her sex. “My guess though, it just made a great thing even better. Remind me to give your kid a pat on the back the next time I see him.”
She propped up on her elbows, but her body shook with the effort. Even her voice held a subtle tremor. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, darlin’, I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” Poised right over her mound, he slid his hands under her ass, angled her sex for his mouth and lifted his gaze. “Now lay back and let me work.”
He wasn’t sure which of them moaned louder, him when her taste exploded in his mouth, or her from the way he speared his tongue deep, but one thing was for damned sure—he wasn’t coming up for air anytime soon.
Natalie speared her fingers in his hair and held on tight, grinding her honey-coated sex against him. “Trevor!”
He smiled against her flesh and circled her clit with his tongue. He was probably going to hell for making her shout with her momma not thirty feet away, but for right now she was mindless and he fucking loved it. He slid a finger inside her and nearly came when her walls clamped down and fluttered around them.
Oh, yeah. Totally ready. Primed and ready to fly. He tongued her clit and added another finger, building a rhythm to match his pounding heart. “Gra
b my billfold, Nat. Need a condom.”
She rolled her head on the pillow and fumbled for the nightstand.
The second her hand closed around his wallet, he surrounded her clit with his lips and suckled deep.
She fumbled the billfold to the bed and her torso bowed, riding the none-too-gentle tug of his mouth and the pleasure that went with it. Beautiful. Utterly open and guileless.
“Don’t you dare come,” he growled, grappling for his billfold where she’d dropped it by her side and pumping his fingers inside her with the other. He flipped it open, pried out a condom and tore it open with his teeth. “When you go over, I’m going with you.”
She pried her eyes open and the dazed pleasure behind her gaze nearly forced his release. Sliding her hand down her belly, she dipped her fingers between her thighs and toyed with her clit, still slick from his mouth. “Hurry.”
The profoundly erotic act locked him up tight. His cock pulsed with the need to slide inside her wet heat and claim her in the most fundamental way possible. With shaking hands, he gloved up faster than was wise, braced above her and slicked his throbbing glans through her drenched folds. His voice came out broken and deep, his lungs barely able to function from the tension gripping his chest. “This what you want? My cock inside you?”
She moaned and arched, widening her legs and baring the pretty pink folds of her sex as her fingers speared downward and grazed either side of his cock. “I don’t want it. I need it.”
Christ, what a sound. A plea and a demand all rolled up into one. He notched the tip of his shaft inside her and hitched her leg high against his hip. “Hang on.”
He powered forward, filling her in one bold thrust he felt clear to his toes. In the space of a second, his whole reality shifted. All that mattered was the velvet heat surrounding him and Nat’s ragged, needy mewls. The slap of their hips and the hedonistic tap of his balls against her perineum. This wasn’t just casual sex. This was a no-holds-barred earth-shattering thing of beauty. The kind of carnal thunderbolt teenage boys fantasized about and grown men dreamed of. He couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t drive deep enough to mark her the way he wanted.
Dropping back to his heels, he palmed her hips, angled upward, and drove his cockhead against the sweet spot inside her.
She dug her heels into his flanks and squeezed her ripe tits, every thrust making them jiggle inside her grip. Christ, he could come just from looking at her. The heavy weight of her stare, how she watched them move together, and the sight of his shaft pistoning in and out of her pretty pink sex.
He licked his thumb and teased her swollen clit. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take my cock. Come for me and milk it dry.”
“Trevor!” Her hips jerked in time with her startled cry and her pussy clenched hard, pulsing around his shaft so hard he couldn’t breathe.
He drove to the hilt and let go, rolling his hips against hers while his release jetted free. With every throb, the silky heat of her and her sweet whimpers marked him, branded a part of him he hadn’t known existed.
Slow and easy, he rode the waves, shifting his torso forward and savoring the soft press of her breasts against his chest. The feel of her hands along his back and her legs banded around his waist. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled her wildflower scent, the rapid thump of her pulse wild against his lips.
Her fingertips trailed up his spine then tangled in his hair. “You okay?” Her voice was breathy and shook to match the subtle tremors in her thighs.
Hell no, he wasn’t okay, but damned if he’d tell her that. He’d promised her light and by God, that’s what he’d give her, because no way in hell was he letting her get away. Not until they’d both had ample opportunity to work this need out of their systems.
“A lot of words to pick from, darlin’, but okay isn’t one of them.” He forced himself up on his elbows and kissed her swollen lips. “Think I could settle on outstanding or fan-fucking-tastic, though.”
She grinned, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright and pretty as they’d been at the ranch. “Me too.”
Oh he was fucked. Well and truly screwed twenty different ways where this woman was concerned, because he’d been wrong. Natalie Jordan wasn’t born for sex. She was born for him.
Chapter Thirteen
A faint, warm draft tickled Natalie’s shoulder, gently lifting her from deep, delicious sleep. A part of her insisted she scratch it before her mind could kick into scrambling-mother mode, but the rest of her was content to relax. To burrow deeper into the snug cocoon around her and enjoy the quiet moments before her alarm went off. She hummed and smiled, wiggling against the firm heat blanketing her back.
Her eyes snapped open and her heart lurched. That wasn’t a blanket. That was 100 percent man spooned tight against her, complete with arms banded around her waist and legs tangled with hers. And they were both naked.
Every high-definition detail from the night before blazed bold and bright. How beautiful he’d made her feel. How thoroughly he’d seen to her pleasure, and how playful and easy he’d made every moment.
Well, not every moment had been playful. A few times she’d sensed them dancing awfully close to a line he wasn’t willing to cross, while others had shaken her clear to her soul. The whole night had been a revelation. A decadent temptation to toss caution to the wind and drown in the picture-perfect fantasies he’d created.
But she couldn’t do that. They’d agreed to light and easy, not happily ever after. The only chance she stood of keeping her heart from being shredded was to keep that reminder foremost in her thoughts.
The soft-blue readout on her alarm flicked from 5:57 to 5:58 a.m.
Thirty more minutes to savor and enjoy the feel of him next to her before her alarm went off. A whole half hour of indulgence before she faced reality without him there to distract her from all her worst-case-scenario mind games. But he’d given her last night. Helped her through her fears and given her something amazing to hold on to. Calmed her thoughts in the most toe-curling way possible.
His chest rose and fell in a deep, steady rhythm, and his breath ghosted across her bare shoulder. God, he felt good. Not once in her life had she woken with a man like this. Wyatt hated cuddling after sex beyond what he felt was obligatory, and she’d never actually spent the night with a man before him.
What was the protocol for a morning-after moment like this anyway? Should she be sweet and attentive like she would on a date? Or was she supposed to act like having him there was no big deal?
His arm around her waist tightened and he nuzzled the sweet spot behind one ear. The deep rumble of his voice moved through her like a caress, a sexy, sleepy rasp that stroked in all the right places. “Turn that mind of yours off and relax.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I have to get up and go to work.”
“Bet I can find a way to make you forget about work.” He inhaled slowly, kissed the back of her neck and ground his hips against her ass, making it abundantly clear that one particular part of him was wide awake and raring to go.
So, was she supposed to let him sleep, or roll over and initiate them kicking off their day with a quick and dirty version of last night?
“You’re overthinking it, darlin’.” He pushed up on one elbow and rolled her to her back. His thick blond hair fell forward as he cupped the side of her face and swooped in for a kiss.
For a split second, she froze, panicked by the one-two reminder punch of morning breath and bed head, but then his lips touched hers and switched her worries into neutral. How he did it, she couldn’t figure out, but the second he got his mouth on hers, all her common sense went out the window.
This morning’s kiss was no exception, though it was still a new experience. While the others they’d shared had been quick to flare and deeply heated, this one was light and languid. A lazy feast of lips and
tongues reserved for quiet Saturday mornings.
Slowly, he lifted his head. “Promised you I’d keep this light and I meant it. You gonna let whatever worries were scampering around in your head go now?”
Light and easy. No happily ever afters.
She rolled toward him and snuggled against his chest. “I wasn’t worried so much as I was trying to figure out morning-after protocol. I don’t think I’ve ever woken up with a man wrapped around me.”
He grinned, the languorous weight of his heavy-lidded stare making it alluringly potent. “It feel good?”
The best. Completely safe and protected in a way she’d never felt before. “Yeah.”
His grin spread to a full-on smile full of teeth and dimples. Though, before she could fully appreciate it, he rolled to his back and pulled her with him so her torso lay half on and half off his chest. He combed his fingers through her hair like he’d done it a thousand times before. “What time do you get up?”
“Six-thirty. My title might say I’m a processing agent, but it’s really more of a glorified call center role. So long as I’m at my desk by seven-thirty, appearance isn’t high on the importance scale.”
“Good, then you’ve got time to talk.”
All the lighthearted easiness of the morning whooshed out of the room, leaving her muscles locked up tight.
He chuckled low and hugged her tighter. “Just reminded you I plan to keep things light. Not going to follow that up with the It’s been fun speech. Now, relax.” He traced her bare spine with his fingertips and goose bumps lifted in their wake. “Don’t know much about pregnancies and deliveries, but I’m thinking that scar isn’t because of Levi.”
She huffed out an ironic laugh and smoothed her hand above his sternum. His heartbeat thrummed strong and steady, and the faint dusting of hair between his pecs tickled her palm. “Oh, it’s because of Levi all right, but not his delivery.”
The hand coasting up and down her spine stilled. “Was it Wyatt?”
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