“Need to get rid of these. Get them off you.”
Her breathing had gone ragged and she nodded. “The material feels like it’s almost burning my skin.”
He knew the feeling. That was the way the water in the shower had felt when it touched him. He was that desperate for her. The drive to be with her was all-consuming. “Tell me about your dreams,” he demanded again as he peeled the leggings down over her hips.
He crouched as he took the fabric down the length of her legs to her ankles. Camellia placed a hand on his shoulder and lifted one leg so he could tug until he pulled the cloth free. As her foot touched the floor, she lifted the other leg as he braced her. Before she could put her foot back to the floor, he caught her leg behind the knee and lifted it over his shoulder.
“Jonas.” His name only. A breathless, broken cry.
“What did you dream, Camellia? Was my cock stretching your lips? The weight of it on your tongue? Did you struggle to take all of me into your pretty mouth? Was that what you dreamt?”
He ran his tongue up the inside of her thigh from her knee to her hot, weeping opening. Her scent was intoxicating. He’d dreamt of feasting on her. Devouring her until she screamed his name, until she never once thought of leaving him.
“Yes,” she whispered her reply, one hand fisting in his hair, the other palm anchoring her on the wall to keep herself upright.
He dragged his tongue up her other thigh, just to the very edge of that slit, tasting her this time, those spicy drops that caused scorching heat to rush through both of them.
“Were you kneeling in front of me? Did you have your clothes on?” He didn’t wait for her answer. The heady fragrance of her was driving him insane, calling to him. He caught her bottom in his hands and pulled her into him, lifting his head to drive his tongue deep to collect her spice.
A low, keening wail escaped. Fire sizzled through his veins; sparks arced over his skin and down his spine. Her taste fed the brutal need in him to claim her.
Tell me. I want to know exactly what you dreamt.
His hunger grew with every drop he consumed. He wanted to devour her. She bucked against his mouth, and he transferred his hold to her hip, clamping down to hold her in place, and used his other hand to explore.
I can’t possibly talk. I can’t think.
Show me.
She pushed the vision into his mind of her kneeling in front of him, totally nude, her knees wide so he could see the evidence of her desire for him glistening between her legs. Her nipples were erect, her breasts heavy and round. She had a woman’s body, feminine and alluring. Her rib cage was narrow, emphasizing the roundness of her curved hips. The tiny curls covering her mound were the same glossy dark chestnut as her abundance of hair.
Her hands were small, but as they stroked up the inside of his thighs, they left electric charges running through his veins, lighting up every nerve ending in his body. The breath left his body as she cupped his balls and then leaned forward to lick up his shaft.
Camellia let out a small sob and placed both palms flat on the wall, her hips jerking helplessly as he devoured her. “Jonas, please.”
He could feel her coiling tighter and tighter. You have to be ready, honey.
I’m ready. I’m so ready. I can’t wait.
In his mind, her mouth engulfed the head of his cock and his vision blurred. He was beyond ready too. He had never thought it possible he could lose control, especially when she wasn’t touching him, but he feared it might happen. He pulled back, wiped his jaw along the insides of her thigh.
Jonas lifted her easily in his arms. All that satin skin moving against his skin. Hotter than hell. Softer than velvet. He had no idea what he’d ever done to deserve her. He planted a knee on the bed and laid her right in the middle of it. Shedding his jeans was imperative. His cock had suffered enough, so full and aching, caged behind the material until he felt rubbed raw.
“Hurry.”
He blanketed her body, that soft, feminine body that was all curves and felt like heaven under him. It was his intention to go slow, but he found it impossible. Her body was too tight, too scorching hot. Trying to inch his way inside was both heaven and hell. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and then caught at his hips.
Jonas eased one of her knees up and guided her leg around his hip. “Relax, Camellia. You’re more than ready for me. You want this.”
“I do. I do want you. I want us. I have from the moment I first laid eyes on you.” Her breath came in ragged pants. She rubbed her palm along his rib cage as if to soothe both of them, but there was no soothing either of them, not when he was using a steady pressure to find his way into her tight, silken heat.
She was beyond every expectation he’d imagined. When he was finally able to bury himself all the way inside her, when they were wearing the same skin, sharing their bodies, he could barely breathe. Fire streaked through him, through her, through their veins. Nerve endings lit up. Rockets went off.
He was careful for the first two orgasms he gave, but then Jonas began to move without inhibition, forgetting to worry about control. Letting himself take her the way he needed, hard and fast, his body a frenzy of brutal strokes. The friction sent waves of fire down his spine, rushing up his thighs, centering in his groin. He didn’t want the feeling to ever end.
He caught her hips, fingers biting deep, and drove into all that scorching heat. He felt her body coiling around his. Biting down viciously. Heaven and hell. Then she was crying out his name as her body clamped down viciously on his, strangling his cock, milking ropes of seed from him. He emptied himself into her with hard, fierce jerks of his cock until there was nothing left, and he collapsed over the top of her, burying his face in her neck, fighting just to breathe.
Jonas had no idea how long he lay there before he was able to kiss her behind her ear and roll off of her so he wouldn’t suffocate her. “Can you breathe?”
“I think so.”
“Give me a minute, and I’ll get a washcloth and glass of water. I don’t think I can move yet.”
She laughed softly. “I think you wore us both out. Who knew it would be like that with us?”
“I knew.” He had known. He turned his head. “You should have known too.”
That little laugh of hers came again, galvanizing him into action. He rolled off the bed and procured the water and a warm washcloth, handing the glass to her but handling the washcloth duty himself, which made her laugh again. He loved that laugh. She stayed on the bed after drinking the water, with just the sheet over her. Personally, he didn’t see the need for that, so he removed it.
“Are you aware that the plants you have growing right off your front porch are very rare camellias?” she asked, turning her head to look at him.