Chapter Twelve
R io had assumed that when and if the time came that Becca capitulated to him, the sex would be hot, furious, and fast. He didn’t anticipate long, slow, luxurious lovemaking.
Yet he found he wanted to take his time, enjoy her every soughed breath, watch the sensuality brighten her velvet brown eyes, feel her every physical response to him. He wanted this to be as good for her as he knew it would be for him. While he’d always been a solicitous lover, he’d never really cared deeply about his partner’s satisfaction.
This felt different. They’d barely escaped certain death. Those flying bullets had come too close. Yet they were still alive, still breathing, their hearts still beating in their chests. He wanted—no, he needed —to connect with her in the most primal way, through sexual release. He needed that with Becca.
When she reached for him, he detected a slight shiver in her and he said, “Lie back. Let me warm you.”
Before he touched any erogenous zones, he wanted her body warmed and relaxed. So, he took the time to massage and rub her shoulders, her waist, her hips and legs.
She complied, her dark eyes watching his every move.
Finally, beneath the quilts, they were both warmed. Lying beside her, he threaded his fingers through her hair, held her still for his kiss. At first, he merely touched his lips to hers. He wanted to map their shape and texture, and with only his mouth’s most tender touch, he felt her lips form a smile.
Pulling back, he smiled into her eyes. “I want you, Becca. All of you.”
Her pretty eyes grew heavy-lidded and sultry. “You want all I can give?”
“Yes.” He breathed the word, again moving their mouths close together with only the barest of gaps between them.
“I will,” she started, but when he touched his tongue to her Cupid’s bow, she gasped. “I will give, Rio,” she got out, “all of myself to you.”
He needed no further encouragement. Taking both her wrists in one hand, he drew them up and held them firmly over her head on the bedcovers. She gasped.
Still holding her, he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept into her mouth, demanding now. Hers responded in kind. When he released her wrists, she dug her fingers into his shoulders. Needing to feel her hands on his bare flesh, in one motion he pulled off his t-shirt. Becca moaned, and squeezed his biceps.
Rio rose on one elbow to watch her face. He touched the hem of the t-shirt she still wore, the one she’d borrowed from his bag. Lifting it a few inches, he let his knuckles drag across her flat stomach.
“You know I want to see you, see your breasts,” he whispered into her ear. “After you gave me a glimpse this morning, I’ve been salivating, hungry for more.”
Her eyes lit. She nodded. The need shining in their depths called to him in a siren’s song. He could no more stop himself from touching her than Greek sailors could keep from throwing themselves atop fatal rocks.
Lifting the shirt another inch, he allowed his knuckles to skim over her flesh. “And I want to kiss them, and taste them,” he said.
Delighting him, she squirmed. “Yes,” she breathed. “Oh, yes.” She made a little gasp.
Deciding to tease her, and himself, he raised the shirt another inch, so that only the very bottoms of her breasts peeked out. “I hope you’ll let me play with them, toy with them with my tongue.” When her breath caught and again she squirmed beneath the quilts, he knew she very much wanted that kind of attention.
Lifting the shirt gently over her head, he tossed it aside and allowed the quilt to fall away from her upper body. Her breasts were as fantastic as he remembered: full, with lovely pink nipples, rounded, and just begging for his ministrations. In the cold air her nipples stood up stiffly. His mouth went dry.
Reaching out, she pulled his head to her chest and he gladly took her between his lips. He rolled his tongue around the nipple, licked it, suckled it. Down below, beneath the quilts, his hard-on raged, hot and insistent. He rubbed it against her hip.
Becca moaned and began to thrash on the bed. He guessed her breasts were particularly sensitive, even more so than most women. He moved to the other breast and tasted her at length. Testing her response, he gave each area of tender flesh little flicks of his tongue, then encircled each one completely. He lapped at her. Gratifying him, her breath escalated and she could not remain still.
As he enjoyed her, he got the sense that she was close to orgasm. Beyond pleased at her responses, he felt blood roaring in his ears. Quickly, he unbuttoned her pants, slid down her zipper. Slipping his hand beneath her panties, his fingers found the heart of her sex.
Drawing a circular pattern on her nub, he heard her gasp louder. Eyes closed, her head moved side to side. She clutched at his bare shoulders, her legs strained to open. Her pants kept her restricted. “Rio,” she whispered roughly. “Rio!”
Feeling a wolfish grin spread over his face, he increased the motion of his fingers, unmerciful, insistent. She could not hold back.
The explosion rocked her in waves. She orgasmed so quickly it caught him by surprise. Shuddering her release, she groaned in pleasure, and the sounds pulsed through him like a wind-whipped ocean current. He luxuriated in her body’s vibrations.
Finally now in a hurry, he tugged off her slacks and underwear, tore at his own pants. Kicking the clothing from the bed, he prepared to part her thighs and roll on top. Between his legs, his sex was hot, hard as iron, a demanding sexual tool that needed using. Now. He wanted inside her more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life.
Yet she surprised and delighted him again.
With a staying hand on his shoulder, she pushed him onto his back and rolled atop him. Using one soft palm, she took him and guided his hard length to her body’s opening. She mounted him. So wet there was minimal resistance to his girth, her body accepted him. In only seconds she was filled to the hilt. She caught her breath.
Rio groaned in pleasure. Her body was welcoming, with a driving and carnal demand of its own.
Above him, her hair in her face, her breasts swaying, Becca rode him, slow at first, and then, gaining speed, she increased the tempo. He reached out and caressed her breasts, staring at them, loving the feel of her wet sex grinding on him. As his manhood grew impossibly bigger, harder, he gripped her small waist.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her face.
Showing no inhibition at all, Becca flung back her head, pushed the hair from her face and clasped her fingers together behind her neck. A woman lost in the unafraid, uninhibited throes of sensual desire, Becca embraced her need, and the notion thrilled him.
Rio grinned. She was a wanton wildcat!
Like a little hussy, she gave her breasts a sideways shake. “You like?” Her mouth curved in a sensual smile. Her eyes teased him.
“I like.” Again he closed his hands over her breasts’ delicious weight. He plucked at her gorgeous nipples, massaged her flesh.
“You want to come now?” She asked the question eagerly, as though his climax would spur another of her own.
When all he could do was nod, she increased the speed, rode him hard. Rubbing against his body, she let out rough gasps. He squeezed her thighs, caressed her waist.
He could tell she was again nearing orgasm. She reached down, took his hands, and placed them back on her breasts.
In answer, eager to please her, he rolled her nipples between his fingers. Obviously, she loved breast play.
The idea drove him mad. She bounced harder, moaning in ecstasy. Seconds before he came in a heated rush, she ground against him in her second orgasm. The knowledge made his own spasm that much more powerful. Lights burst like sparklers inside. He gave a muffled shout.