“He talked to Lana mainly. He said if she wouldn’t tell him her name, the club could have trouble, or something to that effect. He left, Ice.”
Ice turned to look at Lana. “Thanks, Lana. Means the fuckin’ world to me, right here.” He swept his hand down from Soleil’s head to the curve of her butt. “You want to walk around before we eat?”
She could tell he wanted to be alone with her, so she nodded. He threaded his fingers through hers, and they began moving through the pathways between the campsites. The grounds were packed. Everywhere she looked, people were dancing, gyrating, drinking, laughing, catching up with one another. Very few women were wearing tops, and she was feeling a little overdressed in Ice’s shirt.
“This is actually far different than I pictured it. It’s wild and fun.”
He sent her a little grin. “I’m glad you’re having a good time. Thanks for getting the grill started. By the time we usually get around to it, we start eating around three in the morning.” He pushed her deeper into the trees. “I fuckin’ missed you. I had things to do and all I could think about was getting back to you.” He cupped her face and bent to brush his lips over hers. Gently. A barely there kiss that sent butterfly wings fluttering through her stomach. “Did you miss me, Soleil? Did you miss my hands on you?”
“So much,” she admitted. “I always miss you, Ice, when you’re not with me.”
He kissed his way over her chin, down to her throat. “Open your shirt for me.”
She obeyed without hesitation. There was a small picnic table set to one side of the long sweeping strands of a willow tree. He backed her right up to the table so that the edge pressed against her lower back. His lips continued to travel down her throat to her chest and then over the top curves of her breasts.
Everywhere he touched her, kissed her, little flames lingered. He ignited every nerve ending without trying. She was always acutely aware that she was female and he was male whenever they were near each other. Her breasts ached for him, for his touch, for his mouth. His hands were gentle, his mouth even more so. It was so unexpected she found tears burning in her eyes.
“Hold your shirt open for me.”
He framed her breasts with his hands and steadily bent her backward over the table. His mouth followed her down, finding her left nipple as she pulled the shirt out of his way. It took a moment to realize he’d left her shirt on to protect her from the top of the table. His mouth was powerful, sucking at her breast with a strong, steady rhythm that instantly made her go damp. Without warning the vibrator began to buzz, stimulating the nerve endings inside her butt. She gasped and squirmed. His fingers tugged at her other nipple, rolling and pinching until her breath hitched in her throat.
“Open your jeans, princess. Push them down your legs.”
He whispered the order and somehow that soft intimacy sent a shiver through her body. It wasn’t easy to obey him. He didn’t let up with his hands and mouth, and the sensations were growing until her legs felt like rubber. The vibrations seemed to move through her body like waves of heat.
He kissed his way down her breasts to her belly button, his tongue tasting every inch of her skin between. He took his time, his hands gentle on her, whispering over her skin, the way his mouth was. Her breath hissed out of her lungs, and she tried not to thrash. Tried to stay still. It was beautiful, what he was doing to her. Amazing. She was drenched in desire for him, the need for him so strong she couldn’t stop her hands from stroking his shoulders, his back, from moving through his thick hair.
He dragged her jeans down to her shoes. She’d worn her pull-on boots and was thankful she had when he pulled them off and set them with her jeans on the bench. He was precise about each movement but very fast, as if every detail was already seen to in his mind. He kept one hand on her belly, pinning her to the table almost the entire time.
Then he simply lifted her legs and settled them over his shoulders. She watched his face. He looked like sin itself. Sensual lines were carved deep. His eyes moved over her, burning his name into her thighs. His tongue slid up the inside of her left thigh, and her entire body shuddered.
She couldn’t stop moaning. Then his mouth was there, right in her burning center, and the vibration hitched up another notch and she was gone. The moaning turned to wails. The wails turned to screams.
Soleil had no idea how long Ice spent using his mouth and fingers to bring her to orgasm, over and over, but she thought a few times she might not survive. He seemed to know just when she was too sensitive, and he’d use his teeth to nip along her inner thigh and then spread kisses over her bare lips before using his expert tongue so wickedly she could see colors bursting behind her eyes.
She had no idea how many times those waves rushed over her, but they kept coming even when he lifted his head and slowly lowered her feet to the ground. His hands guided her around until she was bending over the table. Just before her front felt the surface, he reached around and drew the edges of her shirt together, so her skin didn’t touch the wood.
He kept his hand on her back, keeping her bent over the table. “I love your ass, Soleil. It’s so perfect.” He rubbed her cheeks. “I love how responsive you are to me.”
He smacked her, spreading heat across her bottom that erupted into fire, burning straight through her center, sending the little vibrator crazy. It felt like flames licked continuously at her insides, touching her everywhere until she was crazy for him.
Soleil gave a small sob of need and pushed back against his hand. “It feels so good when you do that.” It did. He never smacked hard, just enough to spread that heat everywhere.
“I like to see my handprints on you,” he admitted. “Sexy as hell.” He added several more, always rubbing to keep those flames burning inside her.
Then he shoved her legs farther apart and, without warning, pushed into her with his cock. It felt massive. An invasion. Perfection. He drove through tight muscles that were hot and slick, coating the thick shaft as he surged into her. He buried himself deep, forcing his way so that those muscles had to give way for his entrance.
He threw his head back and roared. He sounded so sexy. Hoarse. Husky. His hands kept moving over her back, stroking down her spine. Smacking her cheeks, rubbing there. The vibrator sent waves of fire rushing through her. It was all too much. Pressure coiled tighter and tighter. She could barely breathe. She reached out with both hands and grasped the sides of the picnic table.
He kept pistoning into her. Lust grew sharper. Spread through her until she couldn’t think of anything but his cock moving in her, claiming her, taking her so high she was afraid to let go but desperately needed to. Her world narrowed until there was nothing but that perfect instrument of lust, driving into her, over and over, her inner muscles inflamed and drenched in fire.
She felt him grow, his girth stretching her. It suddenly felt as if his cock were pure steel, white-hot. Her breath caught and then she was screaming as he erupted, dragging through the bundles of nerve endings, flinging her out somewhere distant, so that her entire being became pure feeling. There was no Soleil. She was gone and in her place was a writhing, sobbing mass of pleasure. The vibrator went off and she got her vision back.