A Sip of You(31)

“And her name is Anya?”

“Anya Pierce. She’s not your rival. You have no rivals.” His hand traveled up my thigh to cup my hip. The soft stroke of his fingers forced me to take a shaky breath. I wasn’t quite sure Anya Pierce was nothing to William, but it was also true he was here with me now.

“I’m yours, Catherine,” he said quietly. “I don’t want anyone else.”

Suddenly I felt possessive of him. Very possessive. His gorgeous eyes, now liquid and all but silver; the toned and muscled body I knew was under his clothes; the face that looked almost Photoshopped. All of that was mine. And I wanted him to know it.

I reached up and stripped off his tie. I tossed it on the ground beside my wet suit. It was probably a five hundred dollar tie, but I didn’t care. Next was his shirt. I flicked the buttons open and slid my hands inside. My fingers roved over his sculpted chest and shoulders, enjoying all the hard ridges and planes he worked so hard to tone.

I glanced up at his face, and saw he watched me intently. He was exercising restraint, allowing me to have my way with him. He was letting me take control, but he clearly knew that at any moment he could touch me, and I’d melt and forget about everything but the pleasure. Before that could happen, I put my hands between my legs and grabbed his slim leather belt, unfastening it and then the button of his trousers. His cock was hard and waiting, and with a slight urging down of his zipper and a push of fabric, I held it in my hands.

I slid my fingers down, enjoying the length of him and the way the veins pulsed with need for me. I angled my hips and spread my legs. My folds were slick and I wanted him to see. William’s hands tensed on my legs, and his hardness jumped in my hand.

“You’re killing me right now,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Something about the sound of his voice, the raw emotion in it, was my undoing. I was still angry at him for leaving me today and hurt about all he wouldn’t share with me, but this was something he would share. He would share his body—fully and completely. In these moments, he was mine. He needed me. And I needed him.

I slid forward, guiding his cock where I wanted it, but he stopped me and motioned me to stand. I did so, slowly and with my legs trembling in anticipation. I wondered what he had in mind, but he merely motioned for me to turn around. His hands slid to my inner thighs and pushed them apart so I straddled him again. Then he pulled me down so my back was against his chest. I could feel his hardness pressing against me. “Ride me like this.” His direction came out rough and raw.

Of all the ways we’d come together, this one was new. My breath caught in my throat as a wave of arousal hit me hard. His hands on my hips guided me, sliding my ass along his abs until he settled me over his cock, his tip hot and hard and pulsing at my entrance. Slowly, I took him in, enjoying the feel of every solid inch of him sliding into me. I was so achingly full that I gasped, but still there was more of him. When I was fully seated on him, I cried out with pleasure. I was ready to come from just the feel of him filling me, and my legs were twitching and trembling. I wasn’t sure how long I could go like this, but William’s strong hands held me by the hips and guided my movements.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he murmured. “God, don’t stop.”

He helped move my hips up then down as I took him, and one of his hands moved up my abdomen to my chest. I had to lean back to keep my balance, which had the added effect of pushing my breasts into his hand. He cupped them, stroked them, and then brushed his palm over my sensitive nipples. “Deeper,” he urged me as his hand circled one nipple then the other, making them harden and heat.

“I don’t think I can,” I breathed, concentrating on my balance and now so close to orgasm I could hardly speak.

“Deeper, Catherine,” he said, nudging my legs farther apart. I rose up and then slid down again, taking him so deep I didn’t think I could stretch any farther. My legs were noticeably shaking now. I could feel every ridge, every swollen inch of him inside of me. I could feel my sex tightening and gripping him so hard, but before I could come around that glorious cock, William murmured, “Not yet,” in my ear.

“No, no, I can’t, I can’t wait,” I protested. I was riding him and my body was poised and oh so ready to let go.

“Not yet,” he rasped again in my ear.

The orgasm that was right there slipped just out of reach. I couldn’t go over the edge. Not without his consent. I groaned and rode him faster and harder, frantic with desire.

Slowly, as though he wasn’t equally as close—but I could feel exactly how close he was and I knew he couldn’t hold back for much longer—his hands slid down my body until one rested on my hip and the other cupped my sex, just above where we were joined. His finger touched our hot, wet union   and came away slick. Then he parted my folds and found my clit. I shuddered as he caressed me, while his cock filled me from behind. I couldn’t think. I could only feel the waves of ecstasy radiating through me with every hard stroke. William’s finger circled my clit until I was moaning and begging him. My words didn’t even make sense. I was beyond pleasure now. The pool, the cool breeze, the sounds of the cool California night were gone. There was only William and me, and the universe of his filling me, bringing me closer and closer to a climax I knew would shatter me.