Then she licks the frosting off her thumb.
“You’re right. I would be turned on. Like I am now,” I say, my eyes locked with hers.
“Join the club,” she says.
My mind flickers to gift bangs, to large bathrooms, to anything and everything with her.
I’m about to ask if she wants to do anything about that when the door opens, and a half-dozen fit, trim guys and gals in wheelchairs roll into the shop. A running group, from the looks of the Lycra and athletic tops.
Immediately, Bellamy stands. “Want our table?” she asks a toned blonde with a high ponytail.
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” she says. “We’re taking off anyway.”
“Enjoy your cake,” I say as I rise, moving the chairs to make room.
A minute later, I’m on the street with my erstwhile adversary.
“Are we done then?” I ask Bellamy, hoping her answer is a big, fat no.
“Don’t think you can get rid of me that quickly,” she says, bumping my shoulder.
It must be my lucky day. “In the mood for a coffee?”
She shakes her head.
“Me neither. But if you want a water, I live around the corner,” I suggest. “That is, if you’re still thirsty.”
I expect her to draw a line in the sand.
She licks her lips. “I’m so very thirsty.”
So am I.
27
All the Upper Hands
I had a plan.
It formed perfectly in my head as we rode the elevator to my place. It involved stripping her slowly and seductively, then worshiping her body with my tongue.
Spending a good, long amount of time between her legs and getting to know her pussy with my lips and my tongue.
But with Bellamy Hart, I’m not in charge. Whatever agenda I might have devised, she simply flicks it away with one red, polished fingernail.
She does what she wants, and at the moment, I can’t complain.
I’m pressed against the wall in the foyer as she undoes the zipper on my jeans, tugs them and my boxer briefs down to my thighs, and gazes up at me with those big, lust-filled brown eyes. “My official peace offering. See if you like it better than that cake,” she says.
“Pretty sure I will,” I rasp, but the sentence dies in my throat when she licks the head of my shaft.
I groan as she takes me into her warm, wet mouth, a tremor of pleasure skating over my skin as she licks. My fingers tangle into her hair and I rope them through those lush strands. She seems to relish that, since she hums as she teases my dick with her tongue.
My body wastes no time heating up. The temperature shoots twenty degrees higher as I watch her suck my cock.
As if I’d look away. The sight is dirty-dream perfection. This beautiful woman on her knees, one hand gripping the base of my cock, pumping it as she licks and swirls that wicked tongue along my length.
“You tricked me,” I rasp out.
Her eyes twinkle with mischief.
“I planned to get you naked,” I say on a grunt, urging her to take me a little deeper as I thrust, electricity pulsing down my spine from every mind-bending suck.
“And now look at you,” I murmur, threading my hand tighter into her hair, holding her close.
She pops off my dick so she can rub my cock against her chin, her cheek, her lips. “Yes, look at me with your cock on my face,” she says.
I nearly explode as I watch her play with my dick, the fucking showoff that’s letting Bellamy know all the metals it can imitate—steel and iron, for instance.
“So filthy. So fucking beautiful,” I praise.
A storm of lust gathers in my stomach as she brings me back to her wicked lips, then flicks her tongue up and down my length. “And when you look at me, what do you see?”
Before I can even fashion an answer, the woman swallows my cock whole, filling her mouth with my dick.
That’s it.
I’m throwing in the towel on ever trying to gain an upper hand with her. She can have all the upper hands if I can just keep having her.
Because she’s having me like I’m all her meals.
Like I’m every dessert.
Desire bursts inside of me in punishing waves, crashing over me. What do I see? How do I ever answer that? The sexiest woman I’ve ever seen seems an obvious answer, yet that’s barely enough. That barely scratches the surface.
“The woman I want,” I tell her, and that’s completely true. “I’ve wanted you since the night I met you, and I want you more every single fucking time we meet.”
Perhaps in an answer, she grips the base of my dick hard, then sucks me deep, her lips stretched wide, her tongue an instrument of rapture as she works me over from root to tip.
Over and over.
And I just can’t get enough of this beauty taking my dick deep into her throat.
A groan rips from my mouth, and my breath quickens.
I’m on the verge of coming, and I both want to climax soon and want to make this moment last as long as I can. I want to live in this blow job as she reduces me to grunts and shudders.
I’m fucking trembling as my knees weaken and my body becomes a goddamn lightning rod for pleasure.
She runs her hands along my exposed thighs, her fingers exploring the hair on my legs as she destroys my hold on reality with her determined mouth, delivering lust to every cell in my body. All my muscles tighten, and the tremors turn into a quake. Tension curls around my spine, a helpful warning, then my orgasm rattles through my body.
I growl out a warning then come hard down her throat, my bliss blurring out the world.
She swallows my climax with a very satisfied groan. When she lets go of my dick, I’m still gasping for air, floating above my body.
“That was . . .” I can’t even finish the thought.
Especially when she rises, dusts her soft lips over my cheek, then says, “Your turn.”
One crystal-clear thought lodges in my brain—I have met my match.
28
This Orgasm Thing
At last, I execute my best-laid plans.
Caressing her soft, honeysuckle skin with my lips, I explore the dip of her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, the landscape of her belly. I journey through the hills and valleys of her breasts, sucking and savoring. My only guides on the most erotic tour ever are my instincts and her moans.
They lead me on.
After I travel along her thighs, I settle between her legs so I can suck and eat her sweet pussy till she’s unraveling.
She’s ridiculously wet, her taste coating my jaw. She can’t seem to get enough of my mouth. Hooking her legs around my head, she yanks me closer. Every move she makes kicks in one of my own. When she clutches at my hair, I sweep my tongue faster along her heat. As she hauls me closer, I grip her ass tighter, squeezing the soft flesh.
A tremble erupts somewhere in the vicinity of her knees, then she ropes her fingers even tighter in my hair as she detonates in a symphony of sex—moans and cries, babbles and curses. Her entire body shudders and she doesn’t stop groaning for a long time.
Beautiful.
Just fucking beautiful.
Every note lands gorgeously as I slow my sensual assault, then ease off and drag a hand across my lips.