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“I’m not multiorgasmic,” she insisted, hissing in a sharp breath when he moved down the mattress so his shoulders were wedged between her legs, his mouth right at her sex. She could feel his breath brush across her sensitive skin, and she shivered in anticipation.

He’d put his mouth on her last night. Early this morning. A few hours ago. Many times, actually. He knew just what to do with that mouth and tongue too. Oh, and his fingers. Yes, she really liked it when his fingers got involved.

“You were definitely having lots of orgasms last night,” he murmured, the arrogance lacing his voice making her open her eyes.

The smug smile on his face was worth seeing. His dark eyes sparkled. His hair was a wreck, sticking this way and that and making her want to reach out and smooth it down.

Or reach out and shove his face against her so he could get to bringing her all of those promised orgasms.

“That was an…exceptional moment,” she explained, feeling lame. So lame she felt the blush tinge her cheeks, making them warm.

“Are you calling me exceptional?” He raised a brow.

Oh, he was devastatingly handsome, especially at this moment, the morning light spilling into the room from the giant window. He must’ve opened the curtains earlier, not that she’d been aware, considering she’d been sleeping like the dead only moments before.

But yes, studying him now, his head directly above the spot between her legs that craved him the most, that cocky smile still tilting the corners of his lips, his cheeks and jaw covered in stubble, his lids lowered, giving him this sexy, sleepy look that made her want to kiss him.

“You were exceptional,” she agreed. “But the clock is ticking.”

Laughing, he dipped his head, nuzzling her pussy, making her sigh. He had this approach…that was different from any other guy she’d ever been with. Luke was slow, but not in a bad way. No, more like in a careful, methodical way that showed he planned his every move, used every second to gain maximum satisfaction.

For her. And for him.

But mostly for her.

“You taste good in the morning,” he murmured against her slick flesh, kissing her there. She watched, unable to tear her gaze away from him, fascinated with the way his dark head looked bent between her thighs, her legs draped loosely over his wide shoulders.

“Thanks?” she said, sounding stupid, not really caring, not anymore. She was pretty sure he thought she was funny. She knew she found him funny. He made her laugh. He made her smile. She liked listening to him talk. His voice was…fascinating.

So were his lips and tongue, which he was putting to good use.

Right now.

He licked her, that wide tongue leaving nothing untouched as he searched her folds, circled her clit, painting her with his tongue again and again, up and down. Swirling, teasing, murmuring, humming into her flesh, driving her wild. She closed her eyes, reaching out blindly to grab onto something until her fingers found and curled into his hair. She held him to her, lifting her hips, shamelessly riding his face, his encouragement urging her on.

“That’s it, baby, reach it. Find it,” he whispered just before he sucked her clit between his lips and pulled it into his mouth.

She threw her head into the pillow, thrashing back and forth, spreading her tangled hair everywhere. It fell into her eyes and she shoved at it impatiently, not wanting to miss a thing.

His eyes were on her as he sank a finger deep into her body, then another. He thrust in and out, licking her, watching her, not letting her look away from his intense stare, and that’s all it took.

Her legs stiffened, she bowed her hips, and he lifted away no more than an inch, his long tongue lapping at her, looking almost obscene as he flicked it over her clit.

“Luke.” She drew his name out in a long moan as the orgasm crashed over her, sending her into a shivery state as the climax took over her body. He rode out the orgasm with her, never letting up the torturous way he licked and fucked her with his fingers.

She wanted to tell him to stop. Her body was so sensitive, she needed him to stop, but then he did this thing. A tricky little thing that she’d never felt before, where he twisted his wrist, his finger curving within her, brushing against something deep inside that made her jolt.

Made her cry out.

Oh God, made her come all over again.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, that satisfied smile on his face telling her he knew exactly what he’d just done. “Two in a row, baby. Now that’s what I call multiorgasmic in my book.”

“Y-you keep a b-book?” she asked shakily.

He laughed. “Right, I keep notes of all the ways I can bring a woman to orgasm.” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“If you do, I want a copy, because those notes, I’m pretty sure they’re worth something.” She collapsed onto the mattress, her body weak, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he could see it hammering against her skin.


Tags: Karen Erickson Vegas Nights Romance