Her Billionaires_ Boxed Set(34)

She was the entree.

His kiss wasn’t a surprise; what shocked her most was the preternatural urge that welled up, unbidden, as his hands seized her ass and hips, his body knowing exactly what—and who— it wanted. He shifted, like he had on their first date, from a mild-mannered, lanky, zen-like dude to a ferocious, sexual alpha male.

And she—she—had triggered all that. It excited her almost more than his touch, the way his tongue conquered hers, how his palms were greedy for so much of her skin, his chest pressed into hers, the thick outline of his erection in such stark relief against her navel she could probably sculpt it out of clay from memory. When he urged her, gently, to kneel, then recline, on the blanket, she knew her outdoor sex cherry was about to be popped, and a thin membrane of restraint about to give way to a burst of need that told her she was more than ready to bare all before nature.

“Mmmmmmmm,” she sighed. His mouth moved from hers, hands tracing patterns of lust on her breasts, as if he were memorizing the terrain, his flattened palm stealing down her ribcage as his lips caressed her neck. She had worn a skirt today, a just in case move that she was grateful for, now, because the easy access meant that this would be so much simpler, more direct, less complicated.

Like Mike.

And, thankfully, she had shaved. Landscaped, if you will. Going nearly bald had been a new experience, the little landing strip like a giant, glowing neon sign pointing to her clit. She almost smiled to herself; would he like it? Hate it? Not care?

Barely functioning nerves kicked in and she couldn’t turn off the lopping thoughts, the cluster of fears and insecurities, even with this gorgeous athlete’s hands greedily touching every part of her, even as his lips brushed her abdomen, her hands in his hair and—oh! He was going...

The smooth, cold feeling of her skirt sliding up her thighs felt like butter melting on hot flesh as a light breeze blew up to her V, centered on the little bit of hair under her postage-stamp thong. She shivered and he nearly growled, his face about to descend on her womanhood, his eyelids heavy and his hands communicating his own, barely-controlled need. A deep sigh from him as his hands roamed up her torso told her more than words, that he was enjoying this, that her body was his, and fine, and enough.

As he slid the thin string of her thong down her legs she worried they were too plump, too full, too—and then, oh wow, he gently kissed her labia, a soft touch like a promise, so profound she nearly came in his mouth, the thought and feel of this giant, gentle man wanting her such a balm. A quick flash of Dylan— would he never leave her thoughts?—nearly ruined the moment for her, but she pushed him away and let Mike continue, surrendered to what was before her.

A man who very much desired her—and who was showing it, touch by touch.

“Oh, oh!” she whispered, his hands slipping between her ass and the blanket, her naked bottom half exposed for the sun and clouds and sky to view unfettered. Modesty disappeared under the sun’s rays in their secluded spot, and the knowledge that here, miles from anything that could judge her, they were just two people enjoying each others’ bodies and minds. Muscled arms pressed in the right places, his fingertips gently folding back her labia and his hot breath teasing her just before his tongue did its dance, flicking against the tender, red skin that craved his mouth so much.

She bloomed with lust, every pulse of energy focused on her womanhood as he sucked her clit, slowly extracting the release within, entering and pulling back with two perfect fingers as he seemed to know exactly what to do to make her build to a climax. This wasn’t some shy guy who didn’t know his way around a woman’s body; she couldn’t control her shaking legs, a sign she was getting so close and, moreso, that he was a master at triggering a woman’s touch points, making the different parts fall into place for the grand finale.

Letting go was so hard, but at one point Mike’s hand came up and touched her hip bone, the simple, non-sexual gesture a symbol of a bond here—that this wasn’t just sex, but it was something more. A connection. She looked down—something she never, ever did during oral sex—and her hands found their way into his hair again, her eyes wide open as she took in the cloud formations, the shine of sunlight on the side of the mountain, the lush greenery, the quality of the light and the chirping of birds. They were just mammals who were part of nature, yet so much more.

“Please, please!” The words came out of her so abruptly she nearly pulsated as she came, her pussy walls slamming against each other as the orgasm hit her without warning. She groaned, pelvis grinding into his mouth and tongue, which danced maddeningly right where she needed it most. Then he lapped her, enlarging the surface area of his amazing tongue, changing between flat and pointed to tweak every pixel of flesh he could. Feeling both sensations led to a screaming rush as a huge, muscular wave tightened every part of her, her dripping hole clinging to his finger, fucking his face, his tongue eagerly catching up to her clit.