He lifted his head, eyes smoldering. Until that point, she didn’t believe it possible to be more turned on, but the way he looked at her with open, unadulterated desire… Her nipples pinched hard, and a shiver rippled through her. “Please what, Lis?”
She licked her lips, her breath shallow. “Please…make…letme come.”
His nostril flared. He drew in a deep, slow breath, as if steadying himself, as if something about her request had shaken him. And slowly returned his mouth to her sex.
His tongue found her clit. Licked it. Flicked it. Over and over. And as it did, he gently slipped a finger passed her fold and into her very wetness. Two fingers. Two talented fingers that stroked the sweetest spot within her walls. Her climax exploded through her. She cried out, bucking her hips upward against his worshipping mouth. He lapped at her release, his fingers stroking her higher and higher, until another bone-melting shudder wracked through her, and she cried out again.
Wave after wave of exquisite tension crashed over her. Concentrated pleasure enveloped her. She rode each wave, just as she road Angus’s mouth and fingers.
Until, exhausted and spent, she slumped flat onto the bed, limp and sated. “Dio…” she whispered, eyes closed. Or maybe she croaked it. She’d never made so many guttural, carnal noises in her life. “That was incredible.”
“That was the entrée.” He rained a line of kisses up from her sex, over her belly, her ribs, to the peak of her right breast. “Or as you would call it in the US, theappetizer.”
He captured her nipple with the seal of his lips, giving it a gentle suck, even as he slipped his fingers from inside her, moving them to her clit.
“Il aperitivo,” she breathed, her body instantly responding to his mouth on her breast.
She let herself drown in the pulling sensation. Let herself surrender to the tight, hot pleasure. Stretched out beneath him on the bed, sliding her heels up and down the back of his thighs, one hand tangled in his hair, the other raking at the back of his shoulder.
And once again, the building pleasure inside her grew. With every suckle on her nipple, her sex squeezed tight, impatient for a cock that wasn’t there. When he lifted his head, moving his lips from her breast up over the column of her throat, along her jaw, it was all she could do not to flip him onto his back and impale herself on his erection.
“God, I fucking want you,” he groaned against her temple, his fingers still teasing her clit. “It’s like I’ve finally found the only food that can nourish me.” He nipped her earlobe. “And I just want to gorge myself.”
She moaned out a low chuckle, sliding her heel up the back of one of his legs to push it against his butt. She understood exactly what he meant;shewanted him inside her more than breath.
Then tell him.
Rolling her hips up to his, she tugged his head from the side of her neck by a fistful of hair.
Eyes burning with open desire and hunger, he frowned. “Did I…was that too much?”
“Do you have a condom?” she asked for an answer, pushing her hips harder to his.
A choppy breath burst from him and, before she could say another word, he scrambled off the bed. “Don’t move.” He hurried into the en suite bathroom. “Don’t move.”
“I’m moving,” she called back with a grin. “I’m waving my arms in the air like I just don’t…”
The jest died on her lips as he strode back into the bedroom.
In the brief moment he’d been in the bathroom, he’d removed his boxer briefs and now stood at the side of the bed as naked as she was.
“Oh boy…” She pushed herself up on her elbows to look at him.
He was…was…
“Dio, you’re perfect.”
And huge.
He ducked his head, rubbed at the back of his neck, and shot her a smile. Shy. Not smug or proud. Shy. “Thanks.”
God save her, she could fall in love with this man without any problems at all.
He held up a little square packet the color of the ocean. “Would you like me to put it on, or would you?”
She’d never been asked that before. In all her sexual interactions, not once had she’d been given the option. All her sexual partners—of which she’d had a total of three—just did it. Without asking for her involvement. For a split-second, a finger of cold worry snaked up her spine. What if she tried to put it on and got it wrong? What if Angus was disgusted by her lack of finesse, her obvious inexperience, and told her to get out of his bed and—
“I’d like to put it on.” She smiled up at him. Screw the worry. Whatever this was between them, her worry and anxiety didn’t have a place at the table. Not right now.