As I’m falling asleep against the cave of his body, I whisper, “I don’t get you.”
“I’m going to tell you a little bedtime story, bunny. Once upon a time I was in Japan and I discovered this plastics company. I knew after the first tour of that company that I had to have it. They were manufacturing plastics using clean energy and in a safer way than I’d ever come across. I begged, cajoled, and finally bought my way in. It’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made and one that I arrived at in a day.” He pulls me even tighter to him, if that’s possible. “This is how I’m wired. By the way, I haven't been with another woman since I saw you on the street.”
And then I’m dead to the world. His words run around my head as I sleep, but I can’t process their meaning even though I know he’s telling me something really important.
Chapter 16
WHEN I WAKE UP, I AM hot and aroused. There are two fingers between my legs rubbing the lace of my panties in circles, and at my back there is a furnace of male flesh.
“I thought we weren’t having sex until tonight,” I say, sounding a bit like Marilyn Monroe—all breathy sexuality. His chest rumbles behind me as he chuckles.
“We’re not.” But his fingers are playing out a different story. As they circle and press, I push back against the thick length snugged against my butt.
“It feels like sex.” It feels hard and long, actually, and despite the fight we had the night before and my lack of surety about what Ian really wants from me, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything other than the languorous feelings he’s generating with such simple movements.
“No, this feels like sex.” On the last word, he presses the tips of his fingers inside me, the fabric of the panties restricting him to shallow thrusts. Whimpering, I open my legs hoping for deeper penetration. I mean, he’s here. Why not use him?
Pulling my left leg back over his hip, he shoves the fabric aside and slowly pushes his middle two fingers all the way inside me until I can feel the palm of his hand rest against my clit. His palm stays there almost motionless, the heel against my sensitive extrusion, while his fingers scissor and stroke inside me until he finds that soft little sponge of flesh that makes me gasp out loud.
“Right there, hmm?” It’s not a question that requires an answer—at least not a verbal one. My body is telling him he’s stroking me in exactly the right way. My hips thrust toward his hand, and when he dips his head to nip at my ear, my arm reaches up hook his head closer to mine. His comfort doesn’t enter my mind. Am I pulling too hard on his hair? Are the nails of my right hand that’s moved down to press on the back of his hand digging too tightly into his skin? I don’t care.
I’m swimming in a tide pool of sensation that I want to wallow in forever.
“Not yet,” he whispers as he rolls me over onto my stomach. His fingers pull out of me, and I let out a sound of protest that is muffled by the pillows. Even if I were louder, I don’t think he would cease. He pulls down my sodden panties and shoves a pillow under my hips. Then his mouth is where his fingers used to be. His broad shoulders have spread my thighs apart and his tongue is spearing inside of me. I’m grateful for the pillow at my mouth because I can hear myself moaning.
“Right there. Oh God. Faster, please.” But my pleas are ignored. He has his own rhythm. His tongue is savaging my clit while two of his fingers are thrusting into me, curling and seeking until they hit that same spot he’d discovered earlier. Once found, he relentlessly fucks me with his fingers, all the while sucking and tonguing and licking me. Tension coils within me, curling my toes and causing my fingers to dig into the mattress.
From between my legs I can hear his groans of satisfaction—as if he’s getting as much out of eating me out as I am feeling from being the recipient of his gifted tongue and fingers.
But every time I think I’ll climax, he brings me down again, slowing the pace and moving his fingers in an unhurried fashion, in stark contrast to the frantic thrusts seconds before.
“You’re killing me,” I gasp out.
“I hope not.” There’s so much smug amusement in those words that if I wasn’t ass-up and face-down with his head between my legs, I’d have to punch him. But he knows that I’m too delirious with desire to call him out.
“Stop teasing me,” I beg. Thinking he needs more encouragement, I spell out explicitly what I want. “I need your big, hot cock inside me. Fucking me hard and fast.”
His fingers tighten and he groans, but instead of rising up and thrusting inside me, he slaps me on the ass. It’s almost a little too hard to be affectionate, but because I’m so hot for him, all I do is raise my butt in the air higher in a “Please, sir, can I have another?” move. This causes him to speed up the thrust of his fingers, and soon I’m too lost inside my own head to care that it’s not his cock inside of me, not when his magical tongue is back between my legs.