Chapter 11 #3
“Hmm?” He’d been staring at her breasts and suddenly lifted his gaze to hers. She nearly stepped back at the blazing heat in his eyes. Though he was almost smiling, the skin over his cheekbones was pulled tight, his eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I guess I think I’m pretty tough.”
Nicole reached out her hand and curved it over his penis and squeezed. “Not that tough, big boy.”
Sam’s big body froze, breath hissing in as if she’d done something painful to him. The big column of male flesh she could feel beneath her hand was moving, becoming even longer, thicker. A little moan escaped his lips and his penis leaped once again under her hand.
He looked like he was one second from coming. Nicole nearly laughed out loud.
This was so delicious.
Everything in her life was so…wrong. Her father was gravely ill, dying a painful death.
Her company was trying to take off, but kept sputtering when she had to take attention away from it for her father.
Some unknown assailant had trashed her office, searching for God knew what and would presumably keep searching until he found it or she was hurt, whichever came first.
It didn’t get worse than that.
And yet right now, all those terrible problems were like flies buzzing in the distance.
Her battered mind and body just gave up on all her anxieties and worries and urged her to live this moment.
This magical moment out of time when a big, tough warrior was handing over his body to her for her own use. Giving himself over to her.
Sam kneeled again to dry the rest of her off and she rested her hand on his shoulder for balance.
Oh God, the feel of him was so wonderful.
She knew from experience that there was no give in him at all, anywhere.
She curled her fingers into the bare skin of his shoulder and it was like trying to make an impression on a piece of warm steel machinery.
The heat coming off that big body was amazing.
It chased out any residual chill of the attack in her office.
She watched as Sam slowly stood, one big hand drifting up over her body as he did so. He was masculinity personified, and yet his movements were also so graceful. He rose with the grace of a world-class athlete, a man whose body would never let him down.
He looked her up and down, hot eyes moving over her slowly, the gaze so intense, it felt like hands caressing her body. Every cell in her body felt full, replete, warm, the aches and pains completely forgotten. Amazing. Sexual desire for this man was better than a day at the spa.
Nicole stretched up to put her arms around Sam’s neck in hopes of getting one of those amazing kisses of his, the one that was way sexier than even intercourse with other men, but then gave a little yelp as he picked her up.
“What are you—” she began, then stopped. It was clear what he was doing. He was carrying her to bed. Fine. Perfect. In bed with Sam was exactly where she wanted to be.
Nicole could almost feel what was coming next. Sam laying her down, then coming down on top of her, his heavy weight grounding her, his legs opening hers.
She frowned. Those wet jeans would have to go, though. Wet denim, in bed. Gah.
He lay her gently on the bed and stood for a moment, looking down at her. She smiled and held up her arms, expecting to feel him settling on her, fitting himself to her. Her skin tingled in anticipation.
And yet he was simply standing there looking at her, the dummy. What was he waiting for?
He walked to the end of the bed, tugged her legs until they were almost off the edge and kneeled.
He wanted foreplay? Nicole had never been so aroused in her life.
Well, except for last night. She didn’t need foreplay right now.
As a matter of fact, she probably wouldn’t need it ever again.
Sam’s very presence was potent foreplay, calculated to drive any red-blooded woman’s hormones to fever pitch.
Nicole started to tell him that when she felt his mouth on her, right on her most sensitive tissues and the only thing that could possibly come out of her mouth was a sigh.
He was kissing her there, exactly as he kissed her mouth.
As if he would die if he didn’t get more of her, right now.
She was so incredibly sensitive, she could feel his mouth and tongue all through her body.
He nipped her very lightly with his teeth and she jumped at a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
Her arms were up around her head, back arched with delight, her entire being concentrated on the wet aroused tissues between her thighs. He was French-kissing her, thumbs holding her open for his mouth. The sight of his dark head between her pale thighs was intensely erotic.
He gently bent her left thigh with his hand to give him better access and when he gave another long, languid swipe with his tongue, her thigh started trembling.
She looked down at herself, at the heavy heartbeat she could see in her left breast. She was already close to orgasm after only a few minutes.
The big room was utterly silent except for the delicious sounds his mouth was making against her.
Even the sea had stilled. She couldn’t hear the waves—or maybe her heartbeat was drowning the sound of the ocean out.
He stopped just as a long tremble ran through her, the beginning of that luscious free fall into blinding pleasure. Sam lifted his mouth from her, though his eyes remained fixed on her sex. His dark skin was flushed, mouth wet from her body, face tight with arousal.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said hoarsely, his finger tracing the lips of her sex.
The callused skin of his finger was intensely exciting.
“Here, too. All pink and puffy, and here—” He ruffled through the hair of her pubis and laid his hand on her lower belly.
“Here you’ve got this Snow White thing going.
Ivory and ebony. Amazing.” He lifted her leg higher and took her foot in his big hand.
“Even your goddamned feet are gorgeous.” He brought her foot to his mouth and nibbled on the instep, sharp little bites that raised goose pimples all over her body.
Oh heavens, they were right! Feet were erogenous zones!
She’d never believed it up until now, until Sam Reston nibbled and bit his way over her foot and toes. She’d have thought his mouth would have tickled, but it wasn’t ticklishness she felt, it was pure sex and it shot straight to her groin.
One particularly sharp nip and her vagina clenched, along with her stomach muscles.
He saw it. Of course he did, he was incredibly observant. His eyes shot to hers then right back to her groin.
Sam didn’t grin with triumph at arousing her so intensely that she shook, as any other man would have done.
Instead, his mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed and fixed on where he was touching her.
Gently, oh-so gently, the tip of his finger sliding around and around her opening, so that she started squirming.
Needing his touch to be stronger, to be there—
An electric current ran down her spine when he inserted a big finger inside her and her vagina erupted in convulsions so strong it was as if her entire body were having an orgasm. Her open thighs trembled and her whole body shook, clenching tightly against his finger.
Nicole’s eyes had closed but she saw lights against the lids. Short, sharp pants that were almost moans came out of her throat, the contractions going on and on as he kept his finger inside her, thumb slowly circling her clitoris that had become so sensitive it was almost—but not quite—painful.
He kept her going for what seemed like forever and when the contractions started dying down, he bent and put his mouth to her again, lips and tongue tasting and feeling her climax.
It was so intense she struggled against it, but his big hands pressed on her hips, just over the hip bone, holding her down, his hold gentle but implacable.
She couldn’t move, she couldn’t pull away, she could only feel the keen edge of pleasure lancing through her like shards of steel, held hostage in a place out of time, her body not her own as it convulsed, again and again.
Finally, her body subsided. Sam pulled away and looked at her gravely. Every inch of her skin was covered in sweat, so sensitive she could feel the weight of the air. She was panting, throat dry from pulling in air that never seemed to be enough.
Oh God, it had been way too much, way too intense. He laid his hand on her belly again, big hand covering her almost from hipbone to hipbone, the weight and warmth grounding her after that incredible experience.
She was wiped out—utterly exhausted, incapable of movement or thought. She held his gaze as she blinked once, twice, then couldn’t lift her lids again.
She turned her head and went out like a light.
Well, so much for relaxing her, Sam thought wryly. He’d relaxed her so much she’d gone straight to sleep. Now what the hell was he supposed to do with his boner?
He winced as he stood up. His dick was stiff, his muscles were stiff, he could hardly breathe from tension. He walked around to the side of the bed and just looked at her, the delicate lines of her, like a dream of a woman instead of a real woman.
She’d fallen asleep with her legs open and he could see deep pink flesh peeking out from the dark cloud of soft hair between her thighs.
She was soft and wet, he knew that because he’d felt it, with his tongue and his hand.
She was ready for him and Christ, he was ready for her.
He could feel his dick weeping beneath the denim, aching for him to stretch out on top of her and slide right in.
Exactly as she was, long delicate arms arched over her head in a pose of sensual abandon that would rouse a man from the dead.
And he was far from dead. He felt alive in every cell of his body, and every cell wanted her, right now.