“Don’t be too sure.” The scintillating sensations were boiling once again.
Rory’s tongue swiped over her labia with more pressure this time. The tip flicked her clit—with more pressure this time. Then he suckled the little pearl, his teeth grazing, the suctioning pulling at the tiny bud.
“Shit,” she ground out. “Rory, that’s just … That’s so … Oh, fuck.” One of her hands threaded through his thick, lush hair. The other slid under her hip, spreading wide the leg not draped over his shoulder. “Do that again.”
He repeated the sequence.
“Yes,” she practically wailed as her body writhed and excitement ripped through her. “Again,” she quietly demanded.
He didn’t hesitate. Added a little to his repertoire at the end, licking her with fervor, his tongue really stroking with the intent to make her come again. His hand slipped under her thigh to tangle with hers just below her hip and he held on. Suckled all her tingly flesh and pushed her higher and higher.
As he returned to licking, two fingers from his free hand plunged into her and he stroked her quickly, the pace and the force sending her barreling toward another orgasm. One that would have her screaming his name, she had no doubt.
Her hand clasped his tighter beneath her leg. Rory worked a third finger into her. Twisted them just as he drew her clit against his teeth.
“Oh, Christ—Rory!” She did scream. And climaxed with such intensity, her body bowed off the cushion beneath her and her pussy clamped around his fingers, milking them, bringing her even more pleasure.
“Yes,” he muttered, his mouth hovering over her. “Come for me. Come all over my fingers.”
She could feel they were coated as they still slid along her inner walls. Pushing just a bit deeper to keep her free-falling into sexual bliss.
“Goddamn, you’re tight. And so fucking responsive.”
Christian had said the same thing. They apparently cataloged similar feminine traits with their women.
Rory released the hand he was holding and deftly unfastened his belt and jeans, jamming the material—along with his boxer briefs—down his hips. Then he withdrew his fingers from her and stroked his cock with her juices.
“Jesus, Rory,” she said on a harsh breath as another blaze sparked between her legs. He fisted his cock and pumped while his gaze locked with hers. Bayli’s chest heaved. She couldn’t quite get a grip on herself but knew exactly what she wanted to do for him.
“Let me,” she simply said. And slipped from the couch to kneel before him.
Her hand replaced his on his shaft and she held him firmly as her head lowered and her tongue slid over his hot, slick skin. She tasted herself, mixed with his distinct flavor … and the combination was a heady one.
Bayli’s mouth closed around his tip and she slowly drew him in, his cock heavy against her tongue. His fingers plowed through her hair, which was already a tangled mess as the strands escaped the ponytail.
She took him as deep as she could while her fingers remained around his root. She sucked him hard and his body jolted.
“Fuck, yes,” he murmured. “Like that.”
She repeated the gesture, sucking with a bit more force.
Perhaps too much force, because he jerked her head up.
“Don’t make me come. Not yet.” He gently set her away from him and stood. He whisked off the rest of his clothes and pulled a condom from his wallet. “I need to be inside you when I come. Really deep inside you, honey.”
His prominent features had turned to stone, need etching every chiseled-to-perfection inch of him.
Bayli was breathless, captivated. Dripping wet from the desire and raw intensity exuding from him. Hell, it practically rolled off him in waves. Exciting her to the point of fear. The good kind of fear, she mentally contended. The kind that told her she was in for something far beyond her comprehension.
Even Christian’s mad skills in the bedroom had come with a certain level of understanding on his part that she was fragile in a sense, sexually. He’d known she hadn’t been with anyone in a long while—and he’d learned a great deal about her emotional state before they’d become intimately involved.
Rory didn’t know quite so much about her. And she wasn’t inclined to explain it all. Because she wanted him feasting on her the way he did with his smoldering irises and she wanted him exuding that silent demand that she surrender to him … somehow knowing he would do the same.
She eased back onto the sofa. Spread her legs. “Fuck me.” Her chest rose and fell rapidly again. She had no control over her pounding heart and erratic pulse. “I want to feel you hot and hard inside me, Rory. I want you to fuck me hard. Until you can’t take it anymore. Until you have to come.”
His jaw clenched.
She said, “I want to feel every inch of you, and I don’t want you holding back the tiniest bit. Unleash all of your passion on me. You haven’t been in a kitchen since this morning, right? That has to have you teeming with the need for some sort of release. Make me your release.”