“Come back to bed.”
I turned.
Sullivan was awake. He smiled sleepily and held out his hand.
“Yes, I will. Hang on a sec.”
I walked, naked, to the bathroom. I had a quick wash to freshen up. I was a little tender between my legs, but I liked that. It reminded me of making love with Sullivan.
I dragged a brush through my hair, quickly scrubbed my teeth, then strolled back into the room.
He was on his back, hands locked behind his crown, eyes closed. I stared for a minute at his underarm hair—pale brown, it was fluffy and fanned outward. He’d slept in his bracelets and necklace, and it occurred to me how much a part of him they were.
He opened his eyes. “Good, I’m glad you didn’t find any clothes in there.”
A flurry of self-consciousness went over me. Here I was, naked, in front of a man who’d dated sexy young things, models…who could be a model himself. What on earth must he think? I’d never had any body image issues, but still, my confidence wasn’t off-the-scale. I was only human. I crossed my arm over my chest.
He blew out a long, low breath. “Damn, that’s a sight to wake a guy up.” He reached under the sheet and appeared to adjust himself. “Come here, baby.”
I slid back under the cool covers.
Instantly, his arms were around me, under me. His hands were on my body, stroking my back, cupping my arse.
“Did you sleep okay?” I asked against his lips.
“Mmm, kind of.”
“What do you mean?”
He ducked to kiss the hollow of my throat. “I kept waking up, worrying.”
“Worried? Why?”
“I had a dream that you’d gone. That I woke up and I was alone. That you’d changed your mind, gotten up and headed home without saying goodbye.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” I stroked his hair.
“In the dead of the night, my brain sometimes goes to dark places. Worst case scenarios play out. For me, losing you—you not being here in the morning—it was a demon that came out to play. I woke every hour or so, just to check you were here and to hold you close.”
I looked at his handsome face, his sexy eyes and gorgeous mouth that was made for kissing. “How did you get so insecure?”
He paused for a moment. “I’m not.” He slid his hand up my back to my nape. “I’m just not good at losing something that’s worth having, or something I’ve fought for.” He kissed me—a soft gentle kiss. “And you’re both.”
“I don’t think you had to fight too hard.”
“That’s what you think.” He grinned suddenly and rolled us over so I was under him. “Reach behind your head.”
“What?”
“Do it.”
I did as he’d instructed.
“Feel those slats in the bed frame?”
I stretched my fingers and found the inch-wide, wooden slats that made up the headboard. “Yes.” The position made my underarms feel exposed and my breasts jutted into his chest.
“Hold on to them and don’t let go.” A sinful grin curled his lips. “You’re going to need to.”
Desire shot through my pelvis, and a coil of excitement wound in my belly. I gripped the headboard tighter.
He kissed down my neck.
I lifted my chin, giving him access to a sensitive spot below my ear. I groaned a little as he delicately kissed and licked it.
“That’s it, I found another one,” he murmured.
“Mmm…” I closed my eyes and became lost in him.
I adored the feeling of his body covering mine. The sensation of flesh on flesh, the bed-warm heat we shared, his hair tickling my breasts as he kissed lower still.
He was between my legs. I parted them as he swept his tongue over my navel.
The sheet flapped and slipped to the floor, exposing my legs.
Still, I kept my eyes shut. I’d given myself over to the sensation of Sullivan adoring me.
His lips dragged over my pubic hair and onto the top juncture of my pussy.
I curled my toes and squeezed the wooden slats. Anticipation burned like fire in my veins.
He stroked my inner thighs, and his breath hit down on me.
Oral sex was something I’d always loved, but Thomas hadn’t been into it. Damn, it had been so long since I’d been pleasured this way.
“Fuck, your pussy is so pretty,” he murmured. “You better get used to me kissing you here a lot.”
I juddered out a breath. That was just what I wanted.
He eased two fingers into my entrance.
I groaned—the muscles there a little sensitive but still eager for stimulation.
Once buried deep, he swirled his tongue around my distended clit.
“Oh…oh…” I managed, bowing my spine and drawing up my knees. His tongue was thick and strong, slick and silky, and the touch was like flicking that orgasm switch again.
He hooked his fingers forward, sought out my G-spot and massaged it, just like he had the night before.
Damn, he knew his way around the female form.
I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and twisted my head so my face pressed against my upstretched arm.
A puff of morning breeze from outside swept over me. My thighs trembled. The soft sounds of my moisture around his fingers and our breaths filled my ears, competing with the thud of my pulse.
He was building me up slowly, steadily teasing my clit with his tongue, the pressure growing. Combined with his clever finger movements, I was on a one-way trip to bliss.
I pressed my heels into the bed and tilted my hips.
He took the hint and applied more pressure, increasing the speed.
“That’s it,” I gasped, swiveling my head in the other direction and squashing my nose against my inner arm. “Please don’t stop.”
He didn’t answer, but he also didn’t stop.
I clenched around his fingers. The heaviness in my clit was reaching a point where it had to tip, spill over.
“Sullivan, oh God…”
I opened my eyes and stared down at him. His head was bobbing between my legs, and his shock of blond hair fell messily around his face. His eyes were closed, his nose butting into my pubic hair.
The sight of him sparked my climax.
I held my breath, suspended in ecstasy—ecstasy that shattered and spread around my body. I shook, gasped, bucked for more, then pulled away, not knowing what I wanted.
Sullivan was in control.
He kept stimulating me, driving me through the bliss. He didn’t ease up, just pushed me on.
I was clinging to the bed, trying to stay grounded as pleasure ransacked my body.
“Sullivan,” I gasped.
He stopped and looked at me.
His eyes were wild with desire, his mouth slick with my juices.
“That…was…” I said on a pant. “Intense.”
He grinned and slid up my body, his flesh hot against mine.
I was trying desperately to catch my breath. “Have you any idea…how long it’s been…since?”
He twitched his eyebrows. “I’m guessing too long. But that’s fine.” He eased his fingers from me.
I trembled as a final orgasmic shudder took control of my pussy.
“Because,” he said, kissing my right nipple, “I’ve just found a new favorite thing to do to you.” He straightened his arms and locked his elbows, glanced at my hands. “See, I told you to hang on.”
“I’m glad I did.” I released the headboard. My fingers were stiff. I wrapped them around his biceps. “Phew, I feel hot and sweaty now.”
“So maybe we should shower?”
I became aware of his erection tapping against my thigh. “But what about…?”
“I’m happy if you’re happy.”
“Sullivan?”
He laughed. “Damn, woman, you’ve turned me into a walking hard-on. Get used to it. I thought my dick was going to drain all my blood on more than one occasion yesterday, seeing you all scantily clad on Dolly Bird. And then that see-through underwear and you rubbing cream into my back and making it like some kind of foreplay. I’m a mere mortal, you know.”
“Walking hard-on.” I laughed.
“Yeah, your fault for being so gorgeous and sexy and sweet.”
“Sweet?”
“Yes, sweet.”
It wasn’t an adjective I’d ever considered for myself.
“You’re pretty and delicate. You have such gentle eyes and a ready smile. Everything about you is soft—your hair, your skin, the way you smell…your heart. And all that is sweet.”
I rubbed my hand up his arm, over his shoulder, then down to his pecs. I cupped the muscle there, covering his nipple with my palm. “If you want me to be sweet, then I guess I can do sweet.”
“You don’t even have to try.” He sat back then climbed off the bed.
It was the first time I’d seen his cock. It stood thick and proud, jutting from a mass of light brown pubic hair. The flesh around his hips and buttocks was paler than the rest of him, but his cock was darker, richer, and the head a shiny flare of plum-colored flesh.
He held out his hand to me.
I dragged my attention from his cock to his face, feeling a little embarrassed for staring.
He smiled a little, then led me to the bathroom.
It was a nice bathroom, with a tub on chrome legs, a toilet and a bidet and a shower cubicle that was plenty big enough for two, maybe three, people. The tiles were white, but there were hints of aqua-blue around—towels, a picture of the sea, the bath mat.
Sullivan cranked on the shower then released my hand.
He brushed his teeth while I shook out the towel I’d used the evening before. Quickly, steam began to swirl around, basting my body in renewed dampness.
I forgot to feel shy about my nakedness and stepped under the tumble of water. It was too hot, so I set it cooler. I held my face up to the stream and shut my eyes. The water sluicing down my body was refreshing and tingly. It soaked through my hair, penetrating to my scalp.
I startled slightly when Sullivan slipped his hands around my waist and slotted in behind me.
“Got room for me?” he asked.
“Of course.” I spun within his arms.
He kissed me—a wet, hot kiss—and pulled me near. His cock nudged my belly, his thighs pressed against mine and our toes touched.
I pressed closer. I couldn’t get close enough.
He groaned, tangled his hands in my hair and deepened the kiss.
The water made our bodies slide together in a sexy, slippery way.
“This is my dreams come true,” Sullivan said, holding my face in his hands. “All those times we talked about being like this, together, no miles between us.”
“Now not even an inch.”
“Exactly.” He smiled. “Do you remember that time we talked about…?” He pressed his lips together.
I knew exactly what he was going to say. It was on my mind, too. That time we’d talked dirty, late at night, he’d described me giving him a blow job in the shower. “Yes, I remember.” I watched the water drip from his brow, his nose, his chin. “I remember what you said.”
“I remember what you said, too.”
I smiled and reached between our bodies. I took his shaft into my hand and gently squeezed.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” he said, his lips parting and his eyelids half shutting.
“You want more?”
“I want everything you can give me—in bed, in this shower, in life.”
I smoothed up to the tip of his cock and ran my fingers around the rim beneath his glans. “Shall we start with the shower?”
“Suits me.” He moved back and rested his shoulders against the tiled wall. Looked down. “Kay…”
“Mmm…?”
I cupped his balls with my free hand and rolled them gently. They were heavy and coated in sparse, wiry hair.
He groaned. “Fuck, seeing you touch me, feeling it…” He shut his eyes and tipped his head back. “Don’t expect much on the stamina front.”
I tipped forward and took his left nipple into my mouth. It was small and pert and tensed when I flicked my tongue over it. I worked his cock at the same time, stroking it root to tip with long, firm movements.
He rested his hands on my shoulders. A tremble went through him.
“So,” I said, kissing up to the hollow of his throat, my lips skimming over his necklace. “Are you going to tell me to do it?”
“Do what?” he murmured.
“What you said in the fantasy, on the phone.”
He opened his eyes and looked at me. His wet lashes were spiked into dark triangles and his pupils, huge. “What?”
“Don’t you remember?”
It was clear his brain was struggling to register, then a slow smile curved his mouth and rounded his cheeks. “Oh, yeah…” He pressed on my shoulders, not lots, just a gentle exertion of pressure. “Get on your knees and suck my cock.”
Oh God, those words. So sexy, so illicit.
“With pleasure,” I managed.
I allowed him to press me down, folded my knees on the hard shower base and found my face level with his cock.
No wonder I’d had to concentrate on relaxing last night. It was in proportion to the rest of his body—big.
He lifted his hands from my shoulders and, with meticulous care, moved the wet strands of hair that had plastered themselves to my cheeks.
I waited for him to finish in a half-mesmerized state, gently pumping his shaft and caressing his balls. Saliva pooled at the base of my mouth and my pussy clenched. I remembered this dirty conversation so well. Had relived it in my head a hundred times afterward.
When he’d moved the hair from my face, he bunched it into a ponytail and held it tight at my nape.
I looked up at him.
He was stunning. His jaw unshaven, his hair clinging to the edges of his cheeks and his eyes dark with desire and need. His breaths were coming fast and shifting his chest, his abdomen a row of taut muscles and his body hair stuck against his flesh, each individual hair obvious.
“Open up,” he said, water flooding down his face and touching his lips as he spoke. “Suck me, Kay.” He planted his feet a little wider and bent his knees.
I didn’t need telling twice. I opened up and let him slide his cock between my lips. I shaped my mouth around him, pulling him in and cupping the underside of his shaft with my tongue. My saliva turned his wet flesh to a warm, silky texture as the blunt tip smoothed over my palate.
He pulled out a little.
I kept working him with my hands.
“Ah, yeah, baby. So good.” He tightened his grip on my makeshift ponytail.
The pull on my scalp sent shots of arousal darting through me. They went to my nipples, my clit, my belly. I shut my eyes and reveled in every sensation.