Those big hands that had refused to touch me for so long swept under my ass and cupped me and I let out a shriek as he hoisted me effortlessly into the air. He pulled me close, my legs wrapping around his waist, my breasts mashing against his chest, and I went weak. His hands stayed on my ass as he kissed me and kissed me, squeezing and kneading. His whole body was tight and hard with lust: I stroked down the backs of his arms and I could feel every vein throbbing, every muscle tensed. His heart was thumping against my breast, his breathing as fast and urgent as mine.
He broke the kiss and looked around the workshop. I let out an audible gulp when I realized he was looking for a place to fuck me.
I followed his gaze and I could see it running through his head. The stool? Too unsteady with two of us on it. The floor? Covered in shining engine parts.
He looked at the workbench. Then walked us over to it and set me carefully down on the edge. Without speaking, he grabbed the hem of my tank top and yanked it up to my armpits.
I was reeling from how fast it was all happening, after so long waiting. The sexual tension had been winding tighter and tighter, storing up energy, and now it was all being released. I glanced over his shoulder. “Door!” I squeaked.
He glanced behind him. The workshop had a metal shutter-style door big enough to drive a car through and it was still open. I could see clear across the compound to the clubhouse and members were strolling around in the sunshine outside.
Carrick glanced back to me and there was such a melting look of sexual hunger in his eyes, I actually thought he was going to shake his head, too turned on to stop, and just fuck me with half the club able to see.
But then he turned from me, stalked over to the door in three big paces, grabbed the handle and hurled it down towards the floor. He didn’t even wait for it to close. The clattering of the door drowned out even the thump of his heavy boots as he came back to me. He pushed between my legs just as the door slammed into the ground with a sound like the end of the world. And in the soft silence that followed he stood there, hips between my knees, body hulking over me as I sat, and he spoke to me.#p#分页标题#e#
“I’m going to kiss you. All over. Every inch of that soft skin. Your shoulders, right down your back, your ass...everywhere. I’m going to slip my fingers deep inside you and feel you as you come.”
I let out a high little groan.
“But right now,” he told me, “I’ve got to see you.”
He moved back just a little, grabbed the tank top that was still up under my arms and hauled it over my head and off.
With the door closed, the only light came through a skylight, a solid pillar of sunlight that lanced diagonally down through the darkness and lit up the workbench where I sat. It bathed my skin like a spotlight.
Carrick gave a low growl of satisfaction. He drank in the sight of me and then stepped close again, running his palms up my sides and then over my bra. I swallowed. I knew he’d already seen me naked, when I was changing into the dress, but—
And then he bent and kissed the top of each breast, his lips firm against their softness, and I gasped and forgot my nerves. His mouth felt so good there, the pleasure crackling across my skin and throbbing through my entire chest.
Then his hands went behind my back and my bra suddenly went loose. He drew it off my shoulders and I was topless before I knew what was happening, nipples throbbing at their sudden exposure. But before I could even catch my breath, his mouth was on me, engulfing me, tongue swirling over my hardening bud and the soft pink around it. I arched my back and groaned, feet twisting in the air behind his back.
He buried both hands in my hair, stroking through it, fingers toying with the strands, as he bent and licked at my breasts, alternating between them. One second, his tongue would sweep across a nipple or swirl around the edge of my areolae. The next, his mouth would be gone and the cool shock of the air on my slickened skin made me catch my breath. The pleasure was already climbing inside me, spiraling higher, filling me.
He stepped back and shook his head as if to say, enough. He reached for the belt of my jeans.
But I shook my head, too. I had to see him. I pushed at his cut and he got the idea, pulling it off and dropping it on the bench next to us. Then together we hauled his white t-shirt up and over his head.
He stepped close again and now it was skin on skin, him hard and tan, me soft and pale. My breasts pillowed against his pecs and both of us drew in our breath.
“You’re filthy,” he whispered, stroking his thumb across my cheek and showing me the dark smear.
I realized my hands were oily from working on the engine, and that I must have rubbed my face at some point. God, I must look a mess! I flushed.