This was the closest she’d been to flying over the edge and tapping into her O.
But she wasn’t there yet.
She parted her lips, about to tell him she wanted him buried deep inside her. But before she could say the words, Raz read her mind.
“I want to feel you, Libby Lamb. I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone since I was last tested,” he said, kissing a trail to her earlobe.
That was music to her ears!
“Tested. Clean. On the pill. Yes, magnificent cock now,” she rattled off in a breathy bluster of words.
He took a step back, releasing her. She gasped at the loss of his touch. It must have only been a second, possibly two, before he gripped her by her hips and lifted her onto the washing machine in one swift motion. Instinctively, she edged forward and reached for him. “Don’t do that again,” she whispered, the words spilling out.
Concern clouded the lust burning in his eyes. “Do what, plum?”
She held his face in her hands. “Let go.”
What did that even mean?
She’d never spoken to any of her partners like this—so raw, so vulnerable. But she barely had a second to think.
Without a word, Raz’s deft, capable hands slid her forward another inch. She teetered on the edge as he settled the tip of his rock-hard cock at her entrance, then thrust his hips.
Shimmering light radiated between them. She cried out as the sheer power of this powerhouse of a man stretched her in the most decadent, deliriously delicious ways. All she could do was hold on as he filled her to the hilt with his thick, perfect cock. Her soft curves met his hard body, melding together, the yin and yang of opposites attracting, complementing each other as two became one.
His large rough hands gripped her ass, holding her close, holding her like he never wanted to let go. “I’ve got you,” he whispered in that dirty British accent that seriously scrambled her brain.
Or maybe it unscrambled her mind.
She’d never felt more present, more alive than she did sitting atop a washing machine with this giant man’s enormous cock inside her.
But it was his words that set the air on fire with flashes of blue and violet.
I’ve got you.
Three words.
The power of three bound them together with an invisible thread.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and heart to heart, they moved together, awash in a sea of titillating pleasure.
Each drive of Raz’s hard length and the impassioned friction sparking white-hot between them carried her higher and higher. Like a line of roller coaster cars ticking up the track, grinding and pumping, headed for the top of the highest peak, their lovemaking fueled the ascent.
“You’re so close, plum. I can feel it,” he bit out, dialing up his pace as the machine clicked into the spin cycle.
“Yes,” she cried.
Hearts beating as one, she held his gaze. The blue and violet haze exploded to include every color of the rainbow. The brilliant hues flashed before her eyes. An energy, no, a force like nothing she’d experienced, flowed between them. Encased in tangible color, she bucked her hips as an awareness set in.
She was there, perched on the precipice of total orgasmic release.
There was no more searching. She’d reached the top of the peak. It was time to buckle up and enjoy the ride. A bead of perspiration trailed between her breasts. She didn’t know if it belonged to her or Raz or if the intensity of their lovemaking had created a whole new weather system inside the laundry room that was about to drench them in a hot, steamy downpour. And then, even though they were writhing together, panting and moaning, not holding back, a stillness in her spirit took hold.
Sweet release, in three, two, one…
“Hello, orgasm, it’s me, Libby Lamb!” she cried as her pleasure hit in a wild crescendo. The whoosh, the rush, the heat, and the unstoppable force of their bodies carried them careening down the good old track to Climax Town. Cresting and descending, they rode the rails of ecstasy, up and down, thrust after powerful thrust. Seventy-five days of pent-up sexual frustration exploded like a giant orgasm cake loaded with TNT.
And Raz never looked away. He never closed his eyes. He never left her.
He tightened his hold, gripping her ass and not letting up one single bit as he roared his release. Drenched in sweat, bodies slick, and their breaths coming fast and hard, they clung to each other, reveling in their shared bliss.
Had she ever been this present? Her mind, body, and spirit had converged on one salient, dirty as hell thought: This man better keep screwing her brains out.
“She’s back, Raz! My O, my sacral chakra hasn’t glowed like this in weeks,” she exclaimed, working to catch her breath in a fog of sex-charged erotic energy.
Raz watched her as a sated smile spread across his lips.
Yes, there was an edge of arrogance in his expression, but it wasn’t that cocky twist of a smirk he’d launched at her seventy-five days ago. Now, tenderness wove its way through the man. She could feel it as much as she could see it. Cast in that brilliant blue and violet, he ran his fingertips down her jawline as wonder sparkled in his gray eyes.
“Wham, bam, look at that, Libby Lamb. You’re sure that was your O?” he asked, the awe in his gaze changing into a mischievous glimmer.
She’d wanted to throttle the man when he’d hurled the Wham, bam line at her before she hurled the vibrators at him. But now, she found it oddly endearing.
She worked to catch her breath. “You know it was my O.”
He nodded. “I have an idea.”
“Oh yeah?”
“It’s regarding the curriculum,” he continued, then pressed a kiss beneath her earlobe.
“Go on,” she said on a breathy sigh.
“If we want to do this right, like a real experiment, we should make sure this result wasn’t a fluke. It’s like my training. One day hitting every target isn’t enough to say I’m ready for a fight.”
“Are you suggesting we compile more data?”
Please. Say. Yes.
That cocky smirk returned. “What do you think?”
“That would be the most prudent course of action—especially since, from a purely metaphysical and psychic perspective, I can assure you that continuing the execution of dynamic energy is a beneficial prospect for revisiting climactic events,” she gushed like a sex-crazed geyser.
That was one heck of a word salad, but it didn’t stop Raz from grinning.
“And in my opinion, this climactic event study requires a softer surface, like, for example, a king-sized bed,” he answered.
Sweet Buddha’s belly, she liked hearing him spout sexy like an academic!
“When do you propose we complete another round of testing in a king-sized bed?” she eked out, her body trembling at the thought of round two with this man.
Raz’s eyes glittered with lust. “Right bloody now.”
Nine
Libby
Libby’s muscles tensed, and her nipples hardened as she hummed a deliciously dirty moan—a sound she’d gotten quite good at making over the last eight hours.
Yep, she’d been riding the Orgasm Express for eight hours—and counting.
Twisting the bedsheets in her fists, the morning sun streamed in through the windows. She loved watching the sunrise, but she’d had to pass on welcoming the day this morning thanks to the man going to town on her beneath the covers. She arched her back as Erasmus Cress teased her, bringing her to the cusp of release only to draw her back, then do it all over again.