‘Oh for...?
?? She bit off a curse, held back from that glorious oblivion by an invisible thread—that only he could cut. ‘Will you just touch my...’
She cried out, the tirade interrupted as blunt fingers stroked over the burning nub.
‘Touch you there, huh?’
She writhed, bucked, giving him his answer as he caressed the perfect spot—and she hurtled towards oblivion under the exquisite torture.
‘Come for me, Gina.’
The wave crested, and broke in a shattering shower of bright white sensation, as if brought forth by his command. Then flowed over her in one glorious surge after the other as he stroked at the heart of her—in the perfect place, at the perfect pace—beckoning her up and over again.
His hand withdrew and she sagged against him, hollowed out, exhausted, by the staggering intensity of her orgasm, and the fight to maintain some control over her own body—and his effect on it.
A fight she was pretty sure she’d just lost. Completely.
Rousing herself, she swung round as his forearm loosened. And grabbed hold of his shirt, tearing the remains of it off his shoulders, determined to regain some of the lost ground.
She threw the tattered cotton over her shoulder. ‘Oh, dear, look what I did to your shirt,’ she mocked. ‘I guess I won’t charge you for the panties.’
‘Damn straight you won’t,’ he replied, not looking cowed in the least. ‘That shirt cost me over two hundred dollars. So I figure you owe me.’
She allowed herself a moment to absorb the breath-taking display of tanned skin and bulging muscles—before making quick work of his belt buckle. And drawing down the zip to reveal the huge bulge straining against his boxers. Her eyes met his and she cupped the firm package. ‘Then it must be payback time.’
So what if he could seduce her into a coma? Didn’t mean she couldn’t seduce him right back.
‘Yeah, I guess it is,’ he said, the challenge in his cobalt eyes unmistakeable. ‘Give it your best shot, sugar.’ The low chuckle was as smug as ever as he kicked off the rest of his clothes, and stood before her gloriously naked.
She took a few extra moments to get her breath back.
Goodness.
His body had matured, the once lean, coltish physique gaining muscle bulk in all the right places—making his shoulders broader, the V of his hipbones more defined, his triceps and biceps a lot more prominent and the ridged six-pack quite simply awe-inspiring.
Someone had been working out. A lot.
She touched a nail to the new swirls of chest hair that now surrounded his flat brown nipples and then traced the happy trail down to the thicket where his erection jutted out.
Oh, my word.
Was it her imagination, or had that got even more magnificent too?
‘Carter, you’re beautiful,’ she said, running her tongue over her lips as she dropped to her knees. She smiled up at him, adrenaline surging through her veins like a heady drug as she circled his girth, felt it twitch against her palm—and saw the fierce flash of need cross his face. ‘Brace yourself, sugar,’ she purred, mimicking his lazy, moonlit and magnolia tones. And then swept her tongue from the root to the tip and heard him moan.
* * *
Holy hell!
Carter ran his fingers into her hair, caressing her scalp, as his knees turned to Jell-O and the fire in his gut became an inferno.
Stay upright, damn it.
He dragged his gaze away from the sight of those soft, full lips surrounding him, and struggled to take the exquisite punishment like a man. But then he saw their reflection—and the decadent image of Gina on her knees, pleasuring him with her mouth, nearly had him collapsing in a heap.
She should have looked submissive as she knelt before him, but instead she looked bold and defiant, like an Amazon goddess, feeding into every schoolboy sex fantasy he’d ever had about her. And he’d had a heck of a lot of those over the years.
Hellfire and damnation.