He moved between my legs and dropped lower. “Only thing I’m hungry for is you.” Nuzzling my inner thigh, he spread me open with his fingers, and I watched him suck in a sharp breath, his eyes glazing over. “You like the way my hands feel on you?” His voice had gotten rougher.
He slid his fingers through my drenched slit, and I arched against the mattress. “Yes.”
“I like having you all over me. The way you smell. The way you taste.” He groaned, nose gliding higher up my thigh. “Ah, you’re soaking, Abi. So wet. I do that to you, don’t I, sweetheart? You get this way because of the way I touch you?”
I was trembling, thigh muscles twitching. “Yes.” I reached down and threaded my fingers in his sleep-rumpled hair. “Please, Eli. I need your mouth on me.”
He growled, wrapped his hands around my thighs, and buried his face between my legs. His deep moan as he dragged his nose through my slick lips, covering himself in me, had me trying to grind against him. I didn’t get very far, though; those strong hands held me immobile, held me tight against his mouth. And dear God, the sounds he made, the pleasure he was taking from going down on me, was one of the hottest things I’d ever experienced.
He lapped and sucked, growling as he worked me. It was so damn good. My moans were constant now, filling the room. I learned last night, the last few days, the man knew how to make me come, which meant he was purposely holding off. “Please, Eli,” I begged, and tightened my grip on his hair. “Let me come, baby. Please let me come.”
He pulled back, and I could see the satisfaction in his eyes. The man loved it when he made me beg. He lifted his mouth away, and I cried out, ready to beg all over again, but then he replaced his lips and tongue with his fingers. His head dropped to my inner thigh, getting a close-up view of my quivering sex. I loved watching him like this. He circled my clit like I’d shown him, making me writhe and buck. “More?” he asked, warm breath tickling my damp skin.
I bucked. “More.”
He continued to circle my clit, then dipped down, spreading more of my arousal, then up again. Rubbing back and forth over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He leaned in and lapped at my opening, again and again—then he pushed his tongue inside me and I shattered. Crying out, body shaking. And somehow through my haze, I heard Eli’s groan of approval.
I was still spasming when his tongue slid over my sensitive flesh, lapping up my come. His hands gripped my butt, and he spread my cheeks, swiping down the crease, getting every drop. I shuddered and spread my legs wider for him. He paused, just for a second, then he was at my ass. He circled my puckered hole with his tongue, up and back, groaning the whole time.
Nerves kicked up in my belly, blended with excitement. How the hell could I still want more after the orgasm he’d just given me? But that’s what Eli did to me.
God, it was so good, all of it. Everything he did to me made me wet and achy.
He licked and sucked me, played with me until I was swollen and aching and wet again. I was getting restless, desperate. I needed him inside me, and he obviously felt the same way, because he rose up, and after wiping his face on the sheet, positioned himself over me.
His cock jutted from his huge, muscled body, long and so damn hard. Thick veins bulged along the length, and the tip was dark. Jesus, I wanted him. I spread my legs wider, inviting him to take me. My skin was burning up, slick, and I was close to undulating on the bed. I was that desperate for him.
His expression was all heat…fierce. “I need inside you again, Abigail,” he said. “Will you let me fuck you, sweetheart?” Despite the possessiveness in his eyes, the way he touched me, there were still these traces of uncertainty. He was still questioning what was happening between us. How much I wanted him.
I’d never seen that look on his face before, had never heard that sweet, hungry edge to his voice. Didn’t he know he didn’t have to ask? I was dying for him. “You can have me, Eli. You can have me any time you want me.”
His nostrils flared, and he growled as he dropped down, covering my body with his—and before I had the chance to start begging again, the fat head of his cock was stretching me open, sliding in an inch.
“Is this mine, Abi?” He lifted up onto his hands and stared down at me.
I gripped his ass, digging my nails into firm muscle. “Yes…yes, it’s yours.”
His eyes flashed, and he slammed forward, filling me in one brutal thrust.
“Oh shit,” I cried. “That feels so good, Eli. You feel so good.”
His body strained above me, every muscle bunched, every vein and tendon bulging under his tanned skin. His hips were slamming into mine, over and over, the wet slap of our skin, our harsh breaths filling my head.