“Sexy.” Especially when she felt the downy caresses on her breasts. “So soft it makes me crazy.”
He played along her arms, her belly, her thighs, her knees, and down to the soles of her feet, making her tremble as though her entire body was an erogenous zone. Then he ran the feather between her thighs, the fleeting touch sparking off minor explosions along the surface of her skin.
Finally, he swooped in, sucking her nipple deep into his mouth, and her body arched involuntarily with a pure shaft of pleasure. Then he nipped her…and everything that had coiled so tightly inside her burst wide open.
“Matt,” she cried out. He laid his hand between her legs, barely stroking her at all, making her come simply from the heat of his touch.
She was still floating, hazy and deep in pleasure, when the bed moved, and he padded softly across the carpet, then back again. He scuffed the side table, and the mattress dipped beside her once more.
Cupping her head, he tilted her until a glass touched her lips. “Drink.”
The champagne was cool, fizzy, delicious, and she swallowed thirstily.
“Now this. Open your mouth.” He touched something to her lips, and she tasted chocolate. “Bite.”
Sweet, succulent fruit spiked with dark chocolate detonated on her taste buds. Chocolate-covered strawberries. She ate greedily, then Matt licked her lips clean, setting her insides completely ablaze. It was almost more than she could bear when he caressed her nipples with the cool fruit, trailing from one to the other.
“Look at that sticky mess I made.” His deep, sexy voice rumbled over her. Through her. “I have to clean you up.”
Oh God, she could come again from nothing but the raw need in his voice. And as his tongue followed the path of the berry, licking, sucking, tantalizing, she twisted her hands, grabbing hold of the silky scarves binding her wrists, stretching them as taut as her body felt.
Tapping another strawberry against her lips, she took another bite, and then he smeared the other half over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Straddling her body, he licked her clean. The pleasure was almost more than she could bear, especially when he drizzled champagne onto the mix and licked that too.
When he’d used his tongue over every inch of the strawberry’s path, he kissed her. He tasted like champagne and chocolate and the salt of her skin. He sizzled in her mouth, taking her luxuriously, sucking her lips, her tongue, then going deep.
Finally, he peeled himself off her. But he wasn’t done. The bed shifted again, followed by a pop, more sounds, rustles. With a pfft of air, something cool and creamy shocked her skin.
“This is why I suggested we skip dessert at the restaurant.” He dragged the smooth, chocolatey flesh of another strawberry through all the creaminess on her body and fed it to her. “I wanted to eat it off you instead.”
Everything was erogenous when he was doing this to her. She moaned and arched her body to meet his mouth. Without sight, she was reduced to sensation. A slave to his lips, his tongue, his hands, her body an instrument he was expert at playing. Until he picked up the can again and she almost bucked off the bed as the cold cream covered her sex.
The sweet treat melted beneath his tongue, and so did she, crying out. The pleasure he gave her was so intense it was almost painful. So good it was exactly the right kind of bad. So close and yet so far.
Because she needed more. She was about to beg, but he knew what she needed even before she opened her mouth. He entered her with two fingers, and she went mindless, out of control. She rode the edge of climax as if it were a tsunami on the horizon, ready to roll in, consume her, and drag her under until she was drowning in pleasure.
Then Matt put his hand under her hips, lifted her against his mouth, and the tsunami crashed over her, a huge wave of bliss—and of wonderful, amazing Matt—tumbling through her.
Ari was still tied down, her moans and cries of pleasure a symphony in his ears. Beyond control, beyond mere need and desire, Matt reared up, grabbed her hips, and slammed home deep inside her. He’d put protection on when he retrieved the whipped cream, knowing he’d need to be ready, anticipating the total collapse of his willpower.
She was covered in streaks of cream and chocolate, her skin deliciously sticky as they slipped and slid together, her body clenching him hard, amplifying the heat between them to dangerous levels.
He covered her mouth with his, kissing her hard and deep. She tasted sweet and was so damned hot as she came again like rockets going off, the explosion far greater than the excitement of having scarves around her wrists and a blindfold covering her eyes. More vast than the taste of her on his lips and tongue, even as delectable as she was.