Chapter 33
Alistair
My entire plan had gone to shit.
I’d dreamed of this moment so many times, weeks before I’d ever have admitted it out loud. How Isla would feel. What my name would sound like in her refined English accent when I was pushing inside her.
I had it scripted to a tee. All the ways I’d make her come. How many times.
Fingers. Tongue. Then my fingers again, so she’d know that none of this was a fluke. I was the one who could get her there.
Call me a possessive bastard, but I needed her to associate that kind of pleasure with me.
What came next was where the plan usually went off the rails.
I wanted Isla in every position I knew of and the ones I’d yet to learn.
Sometimes fucking her from behind, her arse in my hands.
Most of the time, her riding me as I just fucking lay there, staring.
Blissed out of my mind. Then me going down on her again.
It always ended with her taste on my tongue, every time I imagined it.
But, god, no matter how many times I’d played this out, I hadn’t been prepared . . . hadn’t been ready for what the words I want you in my mouth would do to me.
I hadn’t planned for that part.
We were in the middle of my bed. Frantically kissing. I’d lost the towel somewhere between the sofa and my bedroom, and I was doing my best not to work myself against the mattress. Her fingers were twisted in my hair, her thighs riding my hips, tugging me closer. To the only place I wanted to be.
Christ. If I’d known this was where we’d land, I’d have rubbed one out in the shower first. Taken the edge off.
If I was really wishing for things, I’d go back in time and smack myself over the head before I made that fucking payment. Then I wouldn’t be about to give the woman of my dreams the most frenzied fuck of my life, before she dressed, walked next door and I never saw her again.
I needed to stop.
Couldn’t stop.
Couldn’t stop kissing her.
Each kiss wet. Dirty. I loved it. The occasional gnash of teeth.
The slide of saliva as we kissed over, over, over again.
My breathless mouth trailed everywhere, her neck, her tits, heaving over the rucked-up fabric of her dress.
I sucked her nipple into my mouth feeling the tight bud swell over my tongue, and she convulsed so forcibly, she slipped from my mouth with a wet pop.
“Alistair.” God, there it was. My name. Desperate. A little slurred.
She tilted her hips, dragging her lace-covered centre over my thigh. She needed to come again. “I’m going to take care of you,” I promised.
“Inside me, please.” Jesus, fuck.
I forced myself to pull back, hovering above her on my hands and knees. “Show me how you take off your dress, Isla. Exactly the way you planned.” My voice was so ragged, so desperate. I’d never been this frantic before.
From the hair, the make-up smeared down her chin and the frilly little cups of lace tucked beneath her gorgeous tits, Isla had planned on seducing me.
I was so well past seduced, but I wanted the show anyway. Wanted to memorise Isla slipping out of her pretty underwear and giving herself over to me.
I watched her brain tick, fighting to keep up. “Are you always this bossy with your overnight guests?”
“I don’t have overnight guests.” My gaze dragged over her blonde curls, now tangled around her head, to her swollen lips, her reddened tits.
I’d never seen anything so perfect in my life.
Anticipation welled inside me so dangerously I didn’t know where to start.
The plan I’d spent weeks – months – visualising was going to shit. “Take off the dress, honey.”
She lifted her hips, hands shaking as she wiggled the fabric down over her hips. Our gazes tangled, heated, as it peeled away. I didn’t breathe as the matching pink lace I’d felt but not seen went with it, and I finally got a look at that beautiful cunt again.
Fuck. Me.
Only a strip of blonde curls graced it this time.
They were already wet, dripping from her first orgasm.
“God, Isla, look at you—” I broke off, voice thicker than honey.
“I knew you’d be like this.” I traced her from throat to clit with a shaking finger.
She whimpered. Trembled. “Your skin is so soft,” I said reverently.
“Absolutely unreal. I want to paint my cum over every inch of it.”
I both abhorred and delighted in the knowledge that Cameron had never worshipped her in all the ways she deserved.
If he had, I wouldn’t get to hear the adorably embarrassed keening sound she made. Or watch her turn her face to the side, trying to hide her blush against the mattress.
“I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I lowered my head, bit her inner thigh. Hard enough to leave an imprint.
“Alistair, please.” Her hips jerked.
“Soon,” I promised, sinking one finger between her legs, my touch feather-light as I slid through her wetness, nearly coming on the spot at how good she felt.
Mine, I thought when she cried out. Even if she hated me once this was over – hated me now – this was because of me.
We’d spent weeks provoking one another, inching toward this moment. Now it was here, I was impatient. Needy. Clumsy. The only thing stronger was my desperation to make this memorable for her.
“Please . . . don’t tease me,” she begged.
“You deserve to be teased.” Another caress.
Another whimper. I bottled the sound, stroking my other hand possessively over her hip.
“You’re a dream come true, Isla. It makes me want to ruin you.
And maybe that’s fucked up, but it’s true.
Makes it really hard to take this slow.” Sliding flat onto my belly, I pushed my finger in all the way to the knuckle, delighting in the arch of her back.
“I don’t want slow.”
“Maybe I need it, I don’t want to—” Her fingers dug into my hair and tugged. I swallowed tightly, unable to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head. “I mean, it’s never happened before, but if I was ever going to ejaculate prematurely, it’ll be now—”
“I love how you talk,” she babbled. “It’s like I’m watching the dirtiest episode of Grey’s Anatomy of my life.”
I belly laughed, amazed at the fact that I was able to laugh while my finger was buried inside her, cock weeping and hard enough to cut through ice. I loved this woman. Loved her so fucking much.
I’d known it on the boat this morning when I’d tried to figure out if she planned to build a life here. I’d known in Callum’s living room. Hell, I’d known it before I’d even taken the interview, already planning how I’d pick holes in the candidate.
Now I’d show her in the only way she’d let me. “I’ve been dreaming of tasting you for months.”
“Wait – but I’ve never . . .” She held my shoulder with her foot.
“Good.” It was the only warning I gave her before I split her open with my thumbs and sucked her clit into my mouth, stroking it with the tip of my tongue and fuck . . . she moaned so loudly, I was sure they could hear on the other side of the island.
“Oh my god.”
“That’s my line. You taste so fucking good.” I took another long lick and groaned, my pleasure intrinsically linked to hers. “Knew you would.”
Hooking her thighs over my shoulders, it took her less than a second to roll her hips, catching the rhythm of my tongue.
“There you go,” I hummed against her. “You’re a natural.”
Fuck, the talking only made her wetter.
I wrote my name with my tongue, pressing into her opening with my thumb while she gasped and shuddered above me. I held her eyes the entire time, hypnotised by every sound. “Alistair. Alistair . . . I’m—”
She didn’t even finish the sentence before exploding, the sight like nothing I’d ever experienced. Body as tight as a bowstring, her pleasure rolled on and on, and I didn’t let up, circling my tongue again and again as her next orgasm edged. “Alistair,” she gasped, “I . . . it’s too much.”
No. Something inside me gnashed its teeth.
I felt wild. Knowing when she walked out that door, it was over.
She’d leave, and I was going to die. “You can do one more.” My voice was a possessive husk as I pressed my thumb so far inside her, she came on the spot with a surprised little whimper.
I had to clench my toes. “So fucking gorgeous. I swear I’m about to blow against the bedsheets. ”
“I think I’d like that.”
I bet she would. I nipped at her clit. “Can you take another?”
“No.” And she meant it. Her thighs were shaking uncontrollably, cunt clenching with little tremors. Sensitive to the point of pain.
“I’m going to make this so good for you, Isla.” I crawled up her body, sucking and licking as I went. Hand reaching for the drawer where I’d stashed the box of condoms I’d bought just for this. Because I’d hoped.
She watched me tear through the packet with my teeth. “I should be doing that.”
“I like it when you watch me.” I always had.
“But I—” Her words broke as she tensed momentarily, her gaze following my hands, watching wide-eyed as I rolled it down my length. Licked her fucking lips.
I caught her chin.
“I’m way too close to the edge for you to look at me like that.” Yeah, I was about to put on an abysmal display. “What are you thinking?”
“That I want you in my mouth.”
Fucking hell.
Couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t survive it.
“Before that, when you went all tense.” I swiped my thumb over her lip, dragging it down, then letting it bounce back into place. “Look at me, Isla.”
“I’m worried about . . . not doing enough, I guess. Just lying here. Starfishing.”
Just lying there? Could she really be unaware of how turned on I was right now? That just staring at her body, reddened, covered in bite and suck marks, had my chest rattling?