“Do you want me inside of you?”
Her eyes flared with desire. “Yes.”
“Then yes, I’m sure we should do this.” With that declaration, he reached up and swept her soft, silky hair aside. He took a moment to admire her long, graceful neck and then peppered soft kisses down the length of it. She tasted so good. Her skin was so supple and warm under his lips.
Blood rushed through his veins and he tightened his grip on her hips as he deepened the kisses on her neck.
She moaned and pressed herself completely back against him. Her shoulders against his chest, her back against his abs. Her ass against his dick.
Fuck.
It was almost too much to take. Going slow was going to be tough. He wanted to grab her, spin her around, strip her down, throw her down on the bed and take her. Claim her as his.
From the noises she was making and the way she was grinding against him, he was pretty sure she would be down with that plan.
But, damn. This was the culmination of feelings that had been simmering inside of him since he was eleven, and he was going to go slow, even if it killed him.
He was going to savor every touch, every lick, every moan, every kiss. This would be a night neither of them would forget for a long time.
As his lips sucked and kissed her neck, his hands grazed up the sides of her waist. His thumbs met at her spine, then followed her zipper up until they reached the top. Slowly, he slid the metal tab down and his knuckles grazed her skin as it was revealed.
His dick jumped when he saw that she was not wearing a bra. Unrestrained need surged through him as he lifted his hands and moved his fingers along the soft skin of her shoulders, pushing the straps of her dress down her arms. She slid her hands out of them and the material fell below her waist.
She stood topless, facing the glass.
He drank in her reflection, pausing at the incomparable sight of her breasts. God, he had dreamed of seeing her body for so long. If you added up all the hours he’d spent fantasizing about her, it would easily equate to weeks, months, maybe even years of his life. But nothing he’d ever imagined could compare to what he saw standing before him at that moment.
Her skin was so creamy that she looked more like a china doll in the diffused moonlight spilling through the window than a real, flawed human being. His eyes traveled over her round, full breasts, resting so beautifully against her body. His mouth watered as he visually traced the dark pink outline of her perky nipples that stood at the tips of those perfectly formed mounds.
Every single descriptor fell so far short of capturing the wonder of what was displayed in front of him. It was the culmination of a lifetime of dreaming, and unlike so many other things in life, the reality far surpassed the fantasy.
He moved his hands up and let his fingers graze over her ribs, holding back and forcing his touch to remain featherlight. He felt goose bumps pop up in the wake of his touch and a rush of adrenaline flooded his body at the sensation.
When his hands reached the sloped curve of her flesh, he covered her breasts and sucked in a harsh breath as the heavy weight filled his grasp. Her nipples hardened beneath his palms as he gently massaged her flesh.
His eyes bounced back and forth between his large, tanned hands working her pale mounds and her face as she watched the same thing. Her eyes were trained on the erotic image of them in the glass. Arousal flooded through him and his heart was pounding like a mallet hitting a gong.
Even though the beach below was deserted, there was a voyeuristic component to what they were doing. It added an extra edge of the forbidden that heightened the experience. Not that it needed heightening.
The harder and more pebbled her nubs grew beneath his touch, the more his mouth watered with the desire to taste her. When the urgency built so that he couldn’t wait for even a second longer, he spun her around and pressed her back against the window.
Her golden-brown eyes widened and she sucked in a startled gasp as he lifted her hands above her head and held them in place with one of his.
A groan rumbled low in his throat when the position caused her chest to heave upward. Not wasting another second, he dipped his head and took first one hard nipple, and then the other in his mouth. His free hand quickly joined the party and cupped her breast, making it all that much easier for him to suck into his hot, hungry mouth.
“This feels…your tongue feels even better than I thought it would,” She mumbled as her head fell back and her eyes squeezed shut.
Sydney’s wrists tugged against his hold, and he tightened his grip. She arched her back with pleasure as he fed on her. His tongue swirled around and around each nipple. He showed equal attention to both as he traced the outlines before closing his lips around her areolas and sucking her hard nubs, nipping them between his teeth.
After spending ample time devouring her breasts, he released her wrists and straightened up. She lifted her head from where it had been resting against the glass as her heavy eyelids opened. His hands moved to cup her face, studying her and looking straight into her eyes when the realization hit him that he still hadn’t kissed her.
All these years and his lips had never touched hers.
With slow, measured movements, he lowered his mouth, stopping just as his lips hovered above hers. Slowly, he brushed his lips against hers. Back and forth, grazing, teasing her. When her lips parted, he ran his tongue from one corner of her mouth to the other, tasting the soft fullness of her mouth for the first time. He made several passes before he pressed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss.
They both stilled, and he let the significance of their intimacy sink in. She lifted on her tiptoes, threw her arms around his neck, and pulled him to her. His thumbs ran along her jawline as he softly kissed her with a gentle authority. He set the pace. No matter how much burning desire raged in him, he kept the kiss slow and drugging. Exploratory and thoughtful.
After a few minutes of delicious torture, she let out a moan, either from pleasure or protest, and bit his lower lip. The sharp pain shot down to his pulsing erection. He hesitated for a split second before crushing his lips to hers and kissing her with eighteen years of pent-up passion.
His lips moved furiously against hers, and he thrust his tongue into her sweet mouth, exploring every corner. Her tongue pressed back against his in an erotic contest of wills, a kind of passion-fueled dance that they both somehow instinctively knew the choreography for.
Lowering his arms, he wrapped her in them as they kissed. And kissed. And kissed. His arms tightened around her as her body writhed against his. And like she had just expressed, it felt so much better than he’d ever imagined it would.
The crazy thing about his fantasies where Sydney was concerned was half of them were just about holding her. About how sweet it would feel to have her in his arms, pulled tight against him as he protected her from the world with his face buried in her soft hair as she nuzzled against his neck.
She broke their kiss and started pulling his shirt from his pants. “I want you naked.”
He’d definitely fantasized about hearing that, too.
“You first.” He stepped back and pushed her dress the rest of the way down her hips and legs. It pooled at her feet and she stepped out of it, kicking it to the side with her heel.
He stood, his eyes traveling slowly up her shapely legs as he did.
When he reached her hips, his eyes widened. “You went commando,” he observed, his voice raw and raspy.
She smiled up at him and ran her fingers through his hair. “Had to. Panty lines.”
He gave her a wicked grin and trailed his fingers up the inside of her thigh, enjoying the way her muscles trembled at his touch. “Are you sure that was the reason? Or was it because you thought you might see me here?” His voice dropped to a low whisper as he teased, “And you hoped something like this might happen?”
She gave a breathy chuckle and tilted her head back. “I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”
/> He slipped his arms underneath her knees and her back, scooping her up as he straightened himself.
He carried her over to the plush, king-size bed and laid her gently down, kissing her all the while. He never wanted to stop kissing her.
He began taking off his clothes but was struck by the sight of her and stood still for a moment, mesmerized. She was stunning. The view of her naked body, her skin glowing against the stark white linens, was arresting. All that was left on her were her black, strappy stiletto heels. She was a living, breathing schoolboy’s fantasy.
Literally. She was his fantasy from all the way back when he was a schoolboy, and now she was right in front of him, in the (very naked) flesh.
He took a deep breath and snapped back to himself. He undressed, his eyes never leaving her, pausing only to pull a condom out of his wallet and set it on the nightstand. She slipped her heels off as he did, and as much as he hated to see them go, he understood it might be dangerous to leave them on.
When he was naked, he climbed onto the bed, settling in next to her. He wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her to him. They started to kiss again, and his hands explored every inch of her flesh. He ran them up and down her back, trailed his fingers over her limbs, and tangled his fists in her hair.
Through all of that, he got more and more turned on. His erection was throbbing now, so engorged that he felt like it might explode from the friction of rubbing against her bare skin. The pressure verged on pain, but he wouldn’t have traded it for anything. He knew that with this kind of buildup, the release was going to be worth every minute of discomfort.
He moved his palm up the inside of her thigh, tremors exploding under his touch. She writhed uncontrollably as his hand drew closer to the V between her legs.
He growled as the heat emanating from that same spot engulfed his hand, letting him know how close he was getting to her sweet center.
His fingers traced the shape of her lips, which were wet and slick with her juices. He moved them up and down, up and down, again and again in a steady rhythm, pressing in just a little bit deeper with each new pass.
There were so many different sensations flooding his brain—sights, aromas, tastes—that it was difficult for him to separate them. They all blended into one giant swirl of pleasure that was fast overtaking him.
The pressure inside him built steadily, urging him on to greater speed and more intense movements. He used his tongue to trace light patterns on her chest and neck as he plunged two fingers deep inside of her. He moved those fingers against her inner wall, stimulating her G-spot, as he rotated his thumb in tiny circles over her hard button in the same rhythm.
He could tell that she was getting close to exploding as her movements grew ever more frantic and her moans became even more high-pitched and desperate.
Her hips pressed against his hand in the same rhythm that he was moving until they were almost like one organism; like two well-oiled parts of an extremely efficient machine, working toward one common goal.
That goal was to bring her pleasure, and if the way her body was moving and the sounds she was making were any indication, that goal was well on its way to being met.
“Oh, oh, oh, yes!” she cried out, and all of a sudden, her walls clamped down on the two fingers that were inside of her with such strength and ferocity that he thought he might have to withdraw them—but he held firm.
He continued to stroke her as she bucked against him, using every movement at his disposal to draw out as much pleasure as he could.
He had no idea what the future held. If it were up to him, this wouldn’t be the one and only night they ever had together, but if that’s what this was, then he was going to make sure it was one hell of a night.
Chapter 9
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Sydney let the waves of pleasure wash over her as Marco’s magic fingers moved inside her, extending her orgasm. She felt so free with him, so uninhibited. She wasn’t worried about what faces she was making, or if the angle of her leg was causing belly rolls.
None of that mattered with Marco. When he looked at her with awe shining in his eyes, she felt like a goddess. And when he touched her, she felt like a superhero. Like she was Wonder Woman.
She began to wonder if it would always be this way with him but stopped herself from heading down that route.
No. Not going there. Not going to ruin a beautiful evening by overanalyzing it and wishing for more. She would appreciate it and live in the moment and let the stunning beauty of this night turn into a precious memory that she would carry with her forever.
Tonight, for once, she wasn’t going to get lost inside her head.
When her body finally stopped spasming with the utter delight and release of orgasm, Marco did exactly what he’d said he wanted to do and kissed every inch of her body. His lips were warm and gentle, but firm and demanding at the same time. Every time they made contact with her skin, they sent new and more subtle tremors racing outward from the point where they had touched her.
This felt distinctly different from anything she’d ever experienced. It sent such a confusing mix of feelings racing through her.
Lust.
Adoration.
Nostalgia.
Hunger.
And that barely scratched the surface of the endless depths of what she felt for him.
When he’d made his way up to her neck, he hovered over her and she wound her fingers into his soft, dark hair and pulled his head up until it was even with hers. She had to kiss him—she couldn’t wait one more moment.
As soon as he was within reach, she lifted her head to press her lips against his. Her tongue shot into his mouth and she kissed him with desperation that lit her entire body on fire.
Her hands roamed across the sculpted planes of his shoulders, through his hair, down his chiseled back. Every single place she touched was a hard ridge of muscle, rippling underneath the skin like a caged wild animal. There was a heat coming off of him in waves, a primitive energy that left her feeling like, in different circumstances, he might not have been so civilized—and that sent a rush of electricity straight to her core.
She had to feel him, take him in her hands. She had to hold onto his manhood, feel it pulse in her grasp, grow under her attention.
She reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his thick member, feeling its heft and letting the wonder of it flow through her from head to toe. It felt right in her grasp like her hand had been made just for this. Like his dick had been made from a perfect mold created to the exact specifications of her fingers and palm.
Her hips bucked slightly as she dragged her hand slowly up his shaft and then back down again; and then again, and again. She dropped her forehead down onto his shoulder as she pumped her hand over him, nuzzling her face into his neck. His arm snaked around her and held her close to him. She felt safe in the strong circle of his embrace, like a small and delicate flower that was flourishing because its every need was being well tended to.
She brought her palm up to her mouth and licked it a few times to get it wet and slick and then grasped his shaft again with her freshly lubricated palm. She moved her hand quickly up and down, building up a fast rhythm.
Marco’s breath sped up against the top of her head, she felt it moving her hair, sending tingles down her back, and in the fast and almost violent rise and fall of his chest as he clutched her to him.
She pumped harder and harder, the aching in her core growing with every millimeter of friction that passed between his sensitive skin and her palm. She knew she couldn’t maintain it much longer. The tension in her lower belly was too great. Something was going to snap soon if they didn’t take it to the next level, and fast.
“I want you,” she gasped. “Inside of me.”
He pulled back and grinned at her, his breathing still labored as he ran his hand through her hair. The intensity of his stare caused her inner muscles to clench. “Say that again.”
She smiled as he lift
ed her hand to the side of his face. “I want you. Inside of me.”
He closed his eyes briefly and then he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and finally, her lips, all with a heartbreaking tenderness.
All of the feelings that she’d kept bottled up for years exploded in her. And even though she’d convinced herself somewhere along the way that it’d been nothing but silly puppy love, the stuff of adolescence—this encounter was proving to her that, at the very least, there was some very adult chemistry between the two of them.
His lips left hers as he reached over her and collected the condom that he’d set on the night table. He rolled over onto his back and grasped the package between his teeth. He ripped it open and pulled out the latex disk, unrolling it over his stiff erection.
She stared at his entire body, marveling at his physique, wishing she could grab her camera and take a few pictures so she’d have it for reference on lonely nights. His chest, arms, and torso all looked as if they’d been sculpted out of clay to create the perfect man. And his magnificent musculature was not all that she had to look at. What took it over the top was his tattoos. They were the icing on the sexy cake.
Unaware of her blatant appreciation for his all-male form, he moved so that he was hovering over her. Her legs spread like a welcoming committee and he moved between her thighs, positioning himself at her entrance.
He looked into her eyes, searching for something. What, she didn’t know. Then he asked, “Are you ready?”
She nodded, her voice stolen by the bond she felt strengthening between them. They looked into each other’s eyes.
It was pure magic. Just like his kiss. Just like his touch. Just like his arms around her.
That was him. Magic Marco.
He thrust into her, then. Her eyes flew open wide, and her arms and legs wrapped reflexively around him. She opened her mouth in a silent cry as he pushed further. Pain mixed with pleasure from his sheer girth.
She couldn’t feel anything in her entire body at that moment except the all-encompassing sensation of being stretched to the limits from the inside out. It was amazing. Like her first time again…except significantly less stressful, and fumbly, and painful. So, basically like she had fantasized her first time would be—perfect.
Fire and Romance Page 9