She parted the second his mouth touched hers. Their tongues tangled as heat and need surged through her. The awkward thing went away, and anticipation took its place. This was Quinn, she thought hazily. Whatever else might be going on in her life, she trusted him, trusted them. Being with him was exciting and challenging and satisfying, but always, always safe. Whatever happened, he would have her back.
He moved his hands down to her shoulders, then lower onto her hips. They settled on her bare butt, where he squeezed her curves.
“If you’d rather, I can get you a magazine.”
She laughed, then leaned in and nipped his bottom lip. “I think you’ll be more interesting.”
“If you’re sure. I have the latest issue of Rolling Stone.”
“And while that’s tempting, I think this is better.”
He moved his hands to her belly, then drew them to her breasts. He brushed his fingertips against her tight nipples. Even through the layer of her bra and T-shirt, she felt his sure touch. Tension and fire flowed from her breasts to her groin and back.
“Sit,” he told her.
She sat on the chair. He knelt in front of her and shifted her until her butt was barely resting on the edge of the cushion. He pushed her thighs apart, exposing the very essence of her to him. He rested his hand flat on her stomach and pressed his thumb against her clit.
The pleasure was instant. She sank back against the chair and closed her eyes. Whatever he was going to do to her, she knew it would be magical. She was simply going to go along for the ride.
Quinn didn’t disappoint. He continued to rub her clit until he had her moving her hips in time with his actions. She spread her legs wider still, knowing there would be more and wanting it all. She felt him shift, but she didn’t look. She wanted to be surprised. For a second there was nothing, then, without warning, he pressed his warm tongue against her swollen center.
She gasped as tendrils of pleasure radiated out from her core. Her toes curled, her thighs tightened and she let her head fall back.
The man knew what he was doing, she thought as he circled her a couple of times before settling into a steady rhythm that had her hips pulsing in time with his ministrations. He licked and sucked until she was gasping and reaching for her release. At the same time, he pushed two fingers into her. He moved them in tandem with his tongue, then curled them so he could stimulate her G-spot.
Courtney grabbed on to the arms of the chair and dug her fingers into the fabric. Her entire body was focused on the places he touched and the ecstasy he promised. Her muscles tightened, her breathing quickened as she pushed toward her release. It remained tantalizingly out of reach until it suddenly exploded, causing her to shudder against him.
She felt herself pulsing against his fingers. He rubbed her clit from underneath even as he moved his tongue back and forth. She came and came for what felt like hours as every ounce of pleasure drained from her.
When she was done, she lay there, legs spread, eyes closed. She couldn’t do much more than try to catch her breath. She heard movements and a rustling sound, then felt his hands on her thighs.
She opened her eyes in time to watch him push into her. His erection was huge, his expression intense. He pushed in, then withdrew. She shifted so she could wrap her legs around his hips. He shoved his hands under her T-shirt and massaged her breasts.
He pushed in and out, finding a fast road to his release. At the same time, he lightly pinched her nipples. She was so sensitized from all he’d done before that she found herself arching into the contact, wanting more and more.
She started to reach for him, remembered the henna, then grabbed the arms of the chair.
The combination of him filling her and his fingers and thumbs on her nipples was pushing her closer. “Harder,” she gasped, not sure which she needed more of, then realizing it didn’t much matter.
He shoved in deeper even as he squeezed her nipples more tightly. She came again with a shriek.
He pumped in and out of her faster and faster, carrying her on her orgasm until they were both gasping for air. He dropped his hands to her hips, held her still and pushed in one last time before climaxing himself.
They stayed like that—him inside her, his hands on her hips, while they caught their breath. His eyes were dark, his gaze direct. They watched each other. It was as if having just shared physical intimacy, now they wanted an emotional connection. She let herself get lost in looking at him.
“You okay?” he asked.
She smiled. “The henna thing really works for me.”
He grinned. “I had a feeling you’d like it. We’ll have to try it again sometime.”
23
“DO YOU LIKE the dresses you and your sisters picked out for your mom’s wedding?” David asked.