Mistletoe Mischief (Lost and Found #5.5)(7)

And he did. As she moaned and sighed, he explored every delicious, scrumptious inch he revealed. When he followed with his lips, she cried out, shifting beneath him. Roger had to stop himself several times because his own hungry body danced on that sharp, hot edge of pleasure. Even the harsh jeans felt good against the head of his cock, and if he wasn't careful he would rub himself raw.

When he sat her up and removed her pretty white bra, though, all coherent thought went out of his head. Her breasts were a bounty, more than his hands could hold, and her nipples were flushed dark with pleasure. When he took one into his mouth, Cassandra gasped and cupped his head to her.

"You're going to kill me, Roger."

Without answering, he drew on the tip of her breast even harder, then shifted to the other side. Damn, she even tasted good here. Gently biting down with his teeth, he let her know how excited he was. But Cassandra apparently loved that edge of pain, her hips shifting more sharply.

Leaving her breasts, Roger moved down her thighs, fingers hooking into the elastic of her panties. He tugged them down slowly, loving that she didn't try to hide herself from him. As he pulled them down the length of her legs, he kissed everything he passed, forcing himself not to look at her most private cleft. He was afraid if he did he would come in his pants.



       
         
       
        

Drawing in gulping draughts of air, he forced his body to stillness before he allowed himself to look up the length of her.

Oh, God. All thought left his brain as he looked at her. In his wildest imaginings he couldn't have drawn her any more perfect in his mind. From the tops of her soft shoulders, over the bounty of her large breasts, down the length of her tummy to the thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs, then her long, long legs, he would not have changed a thing about her. Every piece suited her to a T and fit together to make a masterpiece. She was a heart-stopping vision of beauty, and he was so humbled that she'd chosen him to take to her bed. He would revere her body like no one else ever had.

She watched him, her smart eyes luminous with need and a little caution. She had body issues as well, she just played them off better than he did.

"You are the moon in my dark night," he told her softly. "You shine with an inner brilliance I've never seen in another human being and I would worship you."

The anxiety eased in her eyes and a tear slipped down her temple. "And I will let you, because I just can't imagine letting you go now."

Roger left the bed and stripped off his jeans and boxers, his cock hard with need. As quickly as he could, he sheathed himself in the only condom he'd had in his wallet. Cassandra's eyes followed him, her eyes widening a little. "Oh my God, you are beautiful. I've never seen anything like you. I want to taste you, Roger."

A bolt of heat arrowed down through his cock.

She started to sit up, but he shook his head. "You have no idea how close to the edge I am right now. You'll have to taste me another time, Cassandra, because if I felt your lips on me I would never last. And I want this night, this morning, to last."

Then, crawling up between her thighs, he gave her the most intimate of nibbles on the inside of her knee. The muscles in her leg quivered as he moved upward, kissing gently here and there, and she began to pant. She knew where he was going, but he wanted to draw out her anticipation. With the tactile fingers of his good hand, he brushed them up along the skin of her thigh, just barely tickling. Her hips shifted and her hands reached for him, but he pressed them to the mattress. Then he explored the soft cloud of hair at the apex of her groin.

Cassandra cried out, her stomach quivering as Roger eased his finger into her wetness.

Oh, damn she was so ready. In the dim light from the hallway, he could see the shine of her arousal on his finger. Shifting his body, he lay down between her thighs, kissing her soft belly, then moving down.

She tasted like the first swallow of ice water after a hard run, so sweet. He deepened the kiss, lapping at her. Cassandra gave a keening cry, her legs drawing high to allow him deeper access. Roger found her swollen clit with his tongue and, tilting his head, began to suck on the little bundle. 

Cassandra cried out and arched, her body contracting in a quick, glorious, orgasm.

Roger loved the sounds she was making. Orgasms could be faked, but not this one. The almost explosive contractions arched her away from him, but he followed her, his mouth strong on her.

His cock tingled and he pulled away, panting. He refused to come like an inexperienced boy, before he'd even entered her. That would be beyond humiliating but he was right on that edge. He had a feeling that as soon as he sank into her creamy heat, he would be done.

Clenching his jaw, he rocked back on his heels, lungs billowing. When his heart had settled in his chest, he looked down at Cassandra spread beneath him. When she opened her arms to him, he couldn't deny himself any longer. Moving over her, he looked into her eyes and knew he was a goner. She smiled up at him and lifted her legs, even as she cupped his face in her hands and drew him down. As her lips took his, the head of his cock rested at her entrance and the most amazing feeling of anticipation rolled through him. It was greater than any other feeling he'd ever felt, and as he finally sank into her scalding heat, it only got better, because he knew the pinnacle of pleasure within his reach.

Cassandra Jones had the most amazing body of any woman he'd ever met, and as she tightened her arms around his shoulders, arching up into him, he felt more connected to her than he had any other human being in his life.

"Oh, God, yes … " she sighed, panting as he slid deeply into her.

Condoms tended to mute sensation, but in this one instance he appreciated that fact. It allowed him to feel everything about her he wanted to. The soft cushion of her body, the wet heat of her pussy, the warmth of her arms around him. As she whispered into his ear, Roger shivered and rocked his hips into her. Bracing on his good arm, he lifted enough to look down at her.

Her unique eyes were luminous with pleasure, her plump lips even more plump from his kisses. They spread into a smile as he looked down at her, and she rocked her hips up into his next plunge.

Roger closed his eyes, basking in the feeling. He'd never …

Oh.

She rocked into him again, and reached down to dig her nails into his ass cheeks, pulling him even tighter.

Oh, fuck …

Roger's mind hazed with pleasure and his world narrowed down to the force it took to pump into her body, then draw back. She rocked with him, and started making these delicious sounds deep in her throat, and long drawn out moans. Hearing that she was close again, feeling the rippling of her body, it tugged him along, their pleasure intertwined.

"Harder," she cried out.

Fuck, yes, he could do harder.

Granting her plea was his downfall, though. The heat in his lower back that foretold his release built, and as she arched up to meet his thrusts, her movements frantic as she grabbed at her own release, he was done. With a mighty groan, hips slamming of their own volition, he lost himself in the haze of pleasure that contorted his body. Cassandra cried out with him, her body contracting and releasing in waves as she shattered.

Roger's world spun away, the lancing pleasure focused in his groin, but he was ever conscious of her strong arms holding him to her. His head fell to her heaving chest and he tried to get more oxygen into his lungs. He needed to move off of her, before he smothered her.

Pushing his good arm beneath him, he pushed up, but she stilled his movement with her arms. "Please don't leave yet," she whispered.

And though he was sticky and sweaty and not so fresh anymore, he relaxed into her embrace. His head rested on her breasts and he listened to her heartbeat settle back into a lazy rhythm.



       
         
       
        





Chapter 4





For a few minutes, he half dozed there, and it was the most welcoming place he'd ever been in, her lovely arms. Finally, though, he needed to move. The condom needed to be disposed of and his ass was getting cold in the chill of the room.

Levering up, he pressed a kiss to her soft cheek, took a second to kiss the intriguing earring at the top of her ear and moved away, pulling a blanket over top of her luscious body before he headed to the bathroom. He returned within a few minutes and she immediately moved over for him to slide in behind her, spoon style. His hand went to her hip, resting there.

"You wrecked me, Roger Stottsberry," she told him, voice husky. "I don't think I can stand. My legs won't hold me. I've never felt anything like that before."

He smiled at the back of her curly head, till she twisted around to look at him. Once again there were tears in her eyes, and the street smart, cocky personality had faded away.

"I want to be cool and put together, but I just can't do it right now."

He ran his finger down over her shoulder, then down the length of her arm. When he got to her hand, she turned it over and they intertwined fingers.

Roger didn't feel cool either. Everything he'd expected to happen tonight hadn't. "I don't want either one of us to be cool and collected. I think that means we have barriers up between us, and I feel like we're better than that. If this," he tightened his fingers on hers, "has any chance of going anywhere I think we have to be as open as possible. You were very right about that."