by Amy Andrews
I...what? What? Ava couldn’t speak. All the man had done was lick her belly—after making her wait for two days and several minutes—and she was putty in his hands. But it didn’t matter because he was lifting his head, travelling up, up, up and before she could protest the lack of him down there he was up top, his mouth on hers, his hands in her hair, his body pressing her into the mattress.
And he felt so good all she could do was hold onto him and follow where he led.
And he led with spectacular commitment. His mouth opening wide, demanding hers do the same, kissing and licking and sucking, dragging every morsel of lust and need and want from her lips. Groaning against her mouth, absorbing the husky timbre of her noises that alternated from strong and strident to weak and whimpery and desperate. Joining the shuddery husk of his breath with hers.
And all the time his hands stroked and caressed, from her neck down, flowing everywhere, whispering heat and seduction wherever they touched. Promising lust and good times and secrets she never knew existed.
Eventually, the drugging lash of his mouth left hers and she protested. ‘No, no,’ she moaned, grabbing for him, reaching for his head, for his face, to bring him back where she needed him, to her mouth, where he’d poured all the lust and desire she’d never have known was even there but for this bubble of time.
But then he was kissing her again, saying, ‘Shh, shh,’ against her mouth, hushing her with his kisses and the magic of his hands as they stroked over her belly. And then, pushing her arms up above her head, restraining her there saying, ‘I want to lick beer off you,’ as he licked lower, down her jaw, her neck, her chest.
And it might have been weak of her but Ava, under the influence of his very clever tongue, let him.
Blake knew the moment she let go. The moment she stopped wanting it to be about them and let him make it all about her. It was the second his mouth opened over her nipple and, even though every muscle in her body tensed, her back arching up, pushing more of the gloriously hard tip against his palate, she clearly surrendered to him.
Her hands stopped questing, stopped pushing against the bond of his, trying to move, trying to reach for him. Her body melted into the mattress. Her head fell back, her mouth open wide as if breathing was all she could manage.
He liked that.
He liked that he’d made her incapable of anything but the very basics of life.
It allowed him free rein and he took it mercilessly, tasting her everywhere. Ravaging her nipples to hard peaks over and over until she begged him for release. Leaving there to head south, laving her belly with his tongue again, skating around the juncture of her thighs despite the desperate lifting of her hips, using his tongue to devastating effect on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, her legs wide open, the intoxicating mix of beer and woman ratcheting up his heart rate, making his mouth water.
Making him want to bury his head there and taunt her with his tongue until she came long and hard. But he was determined to have all of her as he licked down to her bikini-red toenails.
Ava was lost in a world where she floated somewhere off the ground in a place full of sensations that swirled and skipped in a kaleidoscope of pleasure, drenching her in sweet, sticky rain. And she surrendered to it—lolled in it. Twirling and sliding, getting absolutely soaking wet.
There was something missing; she knew that. It nagged at the back of her mind but she couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Then his fingers brushed up her thighs then teased against the core of her and she cried out at the intensity of it, wanting it to end, urging him to get her there.
But knowing somewhere inside her she never wanted it to end.
His fingers stroked and swirled, round and round, going hard, then backing off, going hard again until she was begging him to end it. But he didn’t. Instead the hard probe of one finger slipping inside her had her crying out, then another as his wicked tongue laved the flesh of her inner thighs.
And just when she thought she couldn’t take any more his mouth was on her, tasting her, his tongue circling hard around the sensitive bud, and she bucked against him, crying out.
That was what was missing. She wanted to taste him too. Wanted to put him in her mouth and know the contours of him.
The velvet and the steel, the sweet and the salt of him.
She didn’t want to just lie here and be serviced.
‘Blake...’ she panted trying to sit up, trying to reach him. ‘Blake...please...let me taste you too...’
‘No,’ came the muffled reply, his hand clamping down hard on her abdomen, the vibrations of his voice exquisite torture against her ravaged flesh. ‘You. Just you.’
Ava fell back against the bed. She should have said no. No, no no. Insisted they be equal partners in this. She should have been worried that his honourable streak was going to see her fulfilled while leaving him wanting but she’d just used up her one last rational thought.
So she surrendered to him and this time he didn’t back off with fingers or tongue, he just drove her higher and higher until Ava could feel herself drawing tight, so tight she didn’t think she’d be able to breathe, and for a moment as everything coalesced into one powerful pinpoint of time her lungs seized and she swore for a second or two she did actually stop breathing altogether.
Then air came rushing into her lungs and she grabbed it, sucking in and out as ecstasy slammed into her. She grabbed Blake’s head, holding him where he was as it undulated through her body, bowing her back off the bed, forcing a primal cry from the deepest part of her soul.
And she rode it all the way to the end.
* * *
Blake’s heart rate was still unsteady as he lazily kissed and sucked his way back up Ava’s body. She was still away in the land of sexual limbo and he was taking full advantage of her inebriated state to touch her some more, to make sure he’d lapped up every last trace of beer from her very delectable body.
He hadn’t known what to expect from this—sex with Ava. Frankly he’d spent most of his time trying not to think about it. But he’d never thought it would be so fulfilling just to get her off. For someone as sexually confident as Ava she’d given him control so easily—as if her control freak was a mask she wore but was only too happy to lose. And her complete immersion in what was happening to her body had been heady stuff.
He swirled a nipple in his mouth and she moaned long and low as he felt it grow hard against his tongue.
He released his mouthful to look up at her. ‘You’re back,’ he murmured.
Ava smiled at him. She twined her fingers in his hair, as best as she was able amidst the short strands ‘Barely. I think I died for a short while.’
Blake chuckled, stroking his fingers up her arm. ‘It’s okay. I would have given you the kiss of life.’
Ava rolled her eyes. ‘That’s what got me into this mess.’
Blake raised an eyebrow as he stroked lazy fingers over the rise of her right breast. ‘Would we call this a mess?’ Of course the situation had mess written all over it but enjoying Ava’s body had been divine.
Ava shut her eyes as the caress hummed right through her still-buzzing middle. ‘No,’ she said, opening her eyes. ‘We would not.’
Blake dropped a kiss on her shoulder and nuzzled her there. ‘Good.’
Ava stroked his hair, her mouth brushing against the ends, absently noticing the way it just brushed his nape, falling far short of the neckline of his shirt.
‘You still have all your clothes on,’ she said.
Blake lifted his head. ‘What can I say? You were insatiable.’
‘I think we need to do something about that, don’t you?’ she asked, reaching down to the small of his back, and grabbing a handful of his shirt.
Blake considered her for a moment. He wanted to get naked and do the wild thing with her. God knew his erection
was still a living, breathing mammoth inside his underwear and he wanted to feel it buried deep inside her. But it wasn’t simply a matter of just taking his clothes off.
‘Duck,’ she said to him as she ruched his shirt up his back, pulling it up to his shoulders. ‘I want to even the playing field.’
Blake looked down at her body, his gaze lingering in all the places he’d been. ‘I like uneven playing fields.’
Ava rolled her eyes. ‘I bet you do.’ She tugged on his shirt again but he resisted. ‘Blake?’
Blake sighed. ‘There’s not exactly a sexy way to remove a prosthetic leg,’ he said.
Ava blinked. She’d forgotten about his leg. Hadn’t thought about the...logistics of sex with a prosthesis. Or how it made Blake feel. ‘Does it...embarrass you...to take it off in front of someone...in front of a woman?’
‘No,’ he said. Not that he’d ever taken it off in front of a woman who personified human beauty. ‘But it’s a bit like stopping to put a condom on...it’s a big dose of reality, which can be a bit of a passion killer.’
Ava regarded him for a moment or two. ‘Well, we can’t have that, can we?’ she murmured.
Then she pushed against his shoulders and, as he fell back on the bed, she followed him over, rolling up until she was straddling his hips. The juncture of her thighs aligned perfectly with the bulge in his jeans and she pressed herself against him, revelling in the hard ridge. It was satisfying to hear the suck of his breath and watch his eyes shut as his big hands came up to bracket her hips.
‘Feels like the passion’s very much alive to me,’ she murmured.
Blake opened his eyes. She was a sight to behold. Her drying caramel hair fell in fluffy waves against lovely shoulders thrust proudly back. It emphasised the firmness of her high breasts boasting erect, perfectly centred nipples. Her stomach muscles undulated and her belly button winked as her hips rocked back and forth along the length of him.
Each pass rippled urgent pleasure through the deep muscle fibres of his belly. It also caused a fascinating little jiggle through her breasts and Blake couldn’t drag his eyes off them.
‘I don’t know,’ he muttered. ‘I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.’ Then he curled up and claimed a nipple.
Ava gasped as Blake’s hot mouth sucked her deep inside. She raked her fingers into his hair, capturing his head to her chest, and holding him fast. His teeth grazed the tip and her head dropped back. He switched sides, grazing the other nipple as he sucked it hard and deep, and when his fingers toyed with the other one her lips parted on a moan as she dragged in much-needed air.
Blake revelled in the moan. But he wanted more. He wanted to taste her. To swallow her moan as it vibrated against his tongue. He broke away, sought her mouth, found it as she protested his absence.
‘Shh,’ he said against her mouth, his hands stroking down her naked back. ‘I’ve got you.’ And when she moaned again and opened wide to the invasion of his tongue he kissed her deep and wet.
Released from the intimate torture of her nipples, Ava was able to think a little clearer—even though all he’d done was switch from one form of havoc to another. The man could kiss for England! But she needed more than that now. He was thick and hard between her thighs and that was what she needed.
Ava grabbed for his shirt and pulled it up his back. Then she broke off the kiss and hauled it the rest of the way off, tossing it behind her. And then her hands were on his smooth, naked shoulders and she sighed and pressed a kiss to them, they felt so good.
His hands slid to her breasts and she shut her eyes for a moment as his thumbs stroked across her nipples and he started kissing her neck.
Then she shoved his chest hard and watched him fall back against the mattress. ‘Hey,’ he protested, reaching out for her.
But she just shook her head and said, ‘My turn.’
And if Blake thought she looked amazing before it was nothing to how she was looking now, astride him buck naked staring down at him as if he were the main course and she were starving.
Ava gazed down at all his broad magnificence. The dusting of hair over his meaty pecs, the solid firmness of his abdominals. A work-honed chest. A real man’s chest. She stroked a finger right down the centre, from the hollow at the base of his throat to where the waistband of his jeans stopped her journey. Muscles contracted beneath her finger and his breathing became more ragged.
And then she just had to taste him.
Blake groaned as her mouth tentatively touched the spot where her finger had started its journey. Her hair fell forward, brushing his chest, and he slid his hand to her shoulder and stroked down her back, revelling in the feel of her skin beneath his palm as he revelled in the feel of his skin beneath her tongue.
By the time she got to his nipples there was nothing tentative about her touch. They circled and circled as he had done to her. Sucking and licking. Flicking her tongue back and forth over them and he shut his eyes and let the sensations wash over him.
Then she headed lower. Exploring his ribs, his stomach, his belly button.
And then lower.
His zip came down, his underwear was peeled back and at the first touch of her tongue to his screamingly taut erection he bucked and cried out. And then she was relentless. Swiping her tongue up and down the length of him, filling her hot, hot mouth with him, sucking him in deep and hard, feeling so good, so right.
He buried one hand in her hair and the other one in the coverlet, gripping the sheets as she drove him out of his mind.
It wasn’t long before the tug of an orgasm made its presence known. Under her ministrations it was inevitable that he would build quickly but he didn’t want it to be like this.
Not the first time.
‘Ava,’ he said on an outward breath. ‘Stop.’ She didn’t stop. If anything she sucked harder. ‘Ava,’ he said again, curling half up, pulling at her shoulder, pulling her up.
‘Wha...?’ she asked, looking at him, a frown on her face.
Blake almost gave in. Her mouth was moist and swollen and she had a glazed look in her eyes that almost undid him.
‘If you don’t stop that now it’s going to be all over and I want to be inside you when I come,’ he said.
Ava’s brain took a second to power up again but quickly got up to speed. She smiled at him. She’d been wondering what it would feel like to have him hot and hard inside her for the last few months. ‘Condoms?’
Blake smiled back and nodded towards the bedside table. ‘In the drawer.’
She was off the bed and back at his side again in fifteen seconds, tearing at the condom with shaking fingers. And then she was sheathing him, and then straddling him and leaning over him, easing herself into position, kissing him as she slowly aligned herself.
He gripped her hips hard as she slid home and her gasp and his groan mingled as they both just stilled for a moment and enjoyed the feel of their joining. And then she was pushing up and away from him, sitting proudly, her breasts bouncing as her hips undulated, finding a perfect rhythm.
Her hair was wild, and her yellow-green eyes were even wilder, all feline and primal. And she didn’t look haughty now, riding atop him. Actually, no, she did. She looked like a madam on her steed and he bucked hard into her as she picked up the pace.
‘God, you’re magnificent,’ he groaned, holding out his hands to her.
‘You’re pretty magnificent yourself,’ she gasped as she intertwined her fingers with his.
And then neither of them talked. They just moved. Up and down. In and out. Harder. Faster. Building, building, building. Using their joined hands to lever their actions, pushing hard against each other’s palms, finding every inch and every bit of depth they could.
And then she was gasping, her eyes opening wide, and she was crying out, ‘Blake! Blake!’ and the urgency of
it all slammed into his belly and he felt himself coming apart too, joining her, calling out her name too, ‘Ava!’ as he came and came and came, his heart rate off the scale, bucking and thrusting like a machine, determined to give her every last bit of him, their hips slamming together as he drove and drove and drove up into her.
And he didn’t stop, not even after they were both spent, not until she collapsed on top of him.
TEN
It was after eight the next morning when Blake finally stirred. He’d always been an early riser but, given that he and Ava had spent a lot of the night burning up the sheets, it was hardly surprising that he’d slept in.
She felt good spooned against his chest. As did his erection, cushioned against the cheeks of her bottom, and the handful of her hip beneath his palm. He stroked his hand down her thigh and was rewarded with an enticing little wiggle.
‘Morning,’ he murmured as he nuzzled her neck.
Ava smiled sleepily as the prickles of Blake’s whiskers beaded her nipples. She deliberately pressed her bottom back into him as she stretched. ‘What time is it?’
Blake shut his eyes as her moving weakened his resolve to get going. ‘Time to get up.’ They should have been under way by now.
‘Really?’ she asked, slipping her hand behind her and between their bodies, finding him big and hard and ready. And not for a day on the water. ‘I think,’ she said, giving him a squeeze and smiling when he sucked in a breath, ‘you’re already there.’
Blake kept his eyes shut as her hand moved up and down the length of him. ‘I am,’ he said, his own hand dipping down her belly and disappearing between her legs.
Ava gasped as his fingers brushed against the thoroughly abused nub, already begging for more. She let him go, slipping her arm up behind his neck, anchoring herself as she angled her hips to accommodate the slide of his erection between her thighs and the glide and rub of it along the seam of her sex.
‘Man-oh-man,’ she moaned. ‘That feels so good.’
Blake, getting under way completely forgotten, whispered, ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet,’ in her ear and proceeded to rub and glide from one side while his fingers worked her from the other and it wasn’t until she was begging him for completion that he whispered, ‘Condom.’