"Good. Just feel me."
Then he removed his finger and thrust inside her, sans a condom, and Imogen's head snapped back at the acute pleasure the impact brought. "Oh, God," she said, her muscles trembling around him as she wondered for a split second if she'd actually had a mini-orgasm.
"Oh, yeah," he said, hands squeezing her thighs, his penis pulsing inside her as he paused. "Thank you, thank you for letting me go bareback."
"Bareback?" She gave a soft laugh. "I like that expression."
"I like this," he said, and started to move, a quick, hard pace that had Imogen holding on to the sleeping bag so she didn't fall.
She could honestly say that she liked it, too. It was possessive, urgent, the hot friction, the hard slap of his thighs against her like an invitation to lose herself in sex, to let it take her and sweep her under until she was screaming with pleasure. The position that had always bored her somehow took on a totally different meaning, ripped a relentless and uncontrollable response from her, a desperate need to meet his rhythm, to hold on.
"Oh, babe," he said, his voice ragged.
"Yeah?" Imogen dipped her head and let her hair slide forward over her face.
"Yeah."
He thrust so hard she actually lost her balance, then gasped when he quickly pulled out. "Oh, where are you going?"
"Too close," he said. "Lie down on your back."
Already used to his orders, she immediately did it. He always had great ideas, and she trusted this one would be no different. Once she was on her back, he stripped her jeans and panties all the way off, then
did the same to her shirt. It was warm in the tent, the sun filtering down in the cracks where the window flaps were, and it felt intimate, cozy, just the two of them out in the middle of nowhere.
Imogen smiled up at him and he paused as he leaned over her. He cupped her cheek, stroking her skin, and smiled back. "Can I kiss you?"
"Of course you can. You've done everything else."
He laughed. "True enough. But looking down at you, you look so pretty, so perfect, I thought maybe I shouldn't mess up that smile."
Ty really was romantic. She could have never imagined how sexy and tender his words could possibly be, but they were. On the verge of melting like milk chocolate in the sun, she reached up and ran her fingers across his bottom lip.
"I would love a kiss."
"Then I guess I have to." Ty leaned over her, propped up on his arms, and kissed her.
She loved the way he kissed her, the way he started out slow, then got faster and more demanding, his kisses hungrier and more urgent as his tongue dipped inside her mouth. Ty pulled back and took her glasses off. He tucked them in the corner of the tent, then took her shoulders and rolled her so she was on top of him.
Sprawled across his chest, she asked, "So what do you have in mind?"
"First you're going to kiss me."
Grinning, she leaned down and moved her mouth over his, enjoying the control the angle gave her.
"Yeah? And then?"
"Now you're going to sit on my face."
Subtle as usual, Ty was. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah." He started to push her back so she'd sit up. "And why do we keep saying ‘yeah' to each other?"
"Because we don't know what else to say?" Imogen hadn't even noticed, which was interesting because usually she noticed everything.
"Yet another reason to put my tongue to better use." Now he was tugging on her hips, trying to get her to scoot forward on his chest.
Imogen was sitting up at his urging, but was looking around the tent, wondering how she could manage the position he wanted without a headboard. "I don't have anything to hold on to," she told him.
Ty took her hands and placed them on her breasts. "Hold these." She laughed. "That's not going to give me balance."
"But it looks good." His eyebrows went up and down as he gave her a naughty look. "Rub your nipples a little."
"No. I don't think any of this is going to work, Ty." Maybe it would physically, but for some reason she felt awkward and self-conscious.
He didn't even bother to respond. He just yanked her forward until her thighs were on either side of him.
Spreading her apart, he slid his tongue along her. It was an intimate position, one that surrounded his head with her body, and left her sitting up, feeling exposed and vulnerable.
One of his hands snaked up and covered hers, his thumb rubbing across her beaded nipple. "We can change positions if you really want to," he murmured between flicks of his tongue.
Imogen almost said yes. She wasn't used to being so out there in the air, so to speak. But then she hesitated. "Do you like this position?"
"I like looking up at you. I like seeing you in the power position, taking what you like. But I want you comfortable. Hell, I want you more than comfortable. I want you moaning and writhing and coming all over me."
That was a good plan. Imogen closed her eyes and took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders. What difference did it make how her body was positioned? Would a woman who was truly confident in her sexuality hesitate to sit up when a man was offering to give her oral sex? Of course not, and Imogen wanted to be that woman. She wanted to stop thinking and just feel.
So she sat up and shut down her mind, concentrating on the sensation of Ty between her thighs, coaxing
her body to desire. He was incredibly good at it, hitting her in just the right spots, with just the right pressure, kicking up her breathing into panting.
"Lift up a little," he murmured.
"Lift what up?" she asked. Was she smothering him? That wasn't a hot thought.
"Your tail."
Never having had her backside referred to as her tail , Imogen found that rather oddly endearing. Not wanting to deprive the man of all his oxygen, she obeyed immediately.
But it became immediately clear that air circulation hadn't been his concern when his finger slipped into her from behind and plucked her G spot. That yanked a loud moan from her. With his tongue on her and his finger stroking inside at such a sexy angle, she reached that place she always did with Ty, where she thought about nothing but their bodies and mutual pleasure. That place where just about nothing would be a bad idea, where she felt hot and desirable and wanted him, it, everything .
Rubbing her nipples, she dipped her head forward and bit her lip as tightness built inside her. She wasn't going to be able to maintain the position very long without pitching forward onto him, but while she was still upright, she was going to enjoy it. When he sucked her clit, she did both, groaning with ecstasy and dropping her hands down onto the sleeping bag on either side of him, needing something to hold on to, to ground her.
He started moving his finger in and out, sliding her own slickness all along between her cheeks, back and forth, the sensation erotic and exciting. Then his finger slipped inside her again, but with a whole different destination. Imogen sucked in a breath and looked down at him.
"Are you . . . ?" She couldn't say it, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. It felt good. Better than good. His finger there, and his tongue inside her . . . she was shocked, titillated, stunned at how it heightened the pleasure of what he was doing with his mouth.
He paused to ask, "Should I stop?" His breath tickled the hair above her clitoris.
She shook her head, speechless, then realized he couldn't see her. "Uh-uh," she managed.
Ty wiggled his finger at the same time his tongue went deep.
Imogen squeezed the sleeping bag and shot into an orgasm, the hard, shuddering, tight kind where she did hold her breath, and her vision went spotty. Where every muscle in her body tightened while she let the tremors rush over her and take her under.
After a minute, Ty slowly pulled back his finger and mouth and said, "Breathe, babe." Instead, she exhaled, and tilted sideways, falling onto the sleeping bag in a heap. Then she dragged in air, shoving her hair out of her eyes, her heart racing and legs shaking. "Wow. This is the perfect time to use that catchphrase OMFG."
"What does that stand for?" Ty shifted so he was facing her, and ran his fingers down her arm.
"Oh, my fucking God. Totally blasphemous, but when you use the acronym, it softens the blow." She stared at the ceiling of the tent and tried to remember her name. "And in this case, utterly applies." Ty laughed softly. "Good. Now on your stomach."
"I can't move."