Power and Possession(51)
Reality was instantly transformed into a lush, misty, flower-strewn landscape with the prince of her dreams smiling at her. “I’m so on board with your style of winning,” she whispered, her eyes half shut. “You have magic fingers, no question.”
“Glad you like them,” he said. “More?”
Awash in pleasure, feeling breathless and adored, humbled by Rafe’s benevolence, she wanted him to feel the same incomparable wonder. Caught up in a sumptuous euphoria fueled by pheromones and lust, she jettisoned her conditioned resistance and lifted her lashes. “It’s supposed to be your turn first.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll catch you later.” Untouched by tender sentiment, he thought: Thirty days; plenty of time.
“What if I want to?” She lightly touched the taut head of his erection, glancing up through her lashes. “I don’t need your consent, do I?”
He laughed. “You got it, babe.”
“I figured. You’re pretty fucking worked up.”
“Yeah,” he said with a lopsided grin. “You too.” He moved his finger an infinitesimal distance over the solid flesh of her pulsing clit.
“Jeez, cool your—jets,” she gasped. “I can’t do—two things at once.”
“Sure?” His voice was soft as silk. “You might like it.”
She made a growly noise. “How would you know, since you’ve never done anything like this before?”
“Right. But I’ve a great imagination. I dream about this shit.”
His look of innocence was truly impressive. “Hmmpf!”
“Is that a yes?”
She was still glaring.
He grinned. “Don’t bite, okay. That’s all I ask.”
“Maybe I’m not giving any guarantees.”
“Even if I guarantee you one of the better orgasms of your life?”
“Hmmm.”
“Now that’s definitely a yes.” Making an executive decision to move the party along, he quickly added a second finger to her superwarm pussy, which was already telling him yes in a hundred different ways.
She was softly moaning when she dipped her head and swirled her tongue around the flaring ridge of his erection and ran it down the throbbing vein underneath—definitely an added bonus to degrees of sensation, he decided, and stroked her G-spot in a friendly hello.
Really, why she even debated feeling this good was seriously overthinking sex. Rafe had the right idea. Just do it. Not that he might have operated on that premise a few thousand times more than her. But that didn’t mean it didn’t feel good all the same.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
It wasn’t rude or harsh; the question was only whispered in bewilderment. Returning to the world, she realized she’d apparently zoned out. “Sorry,” she said, her mouth full so it came out muffled; but he must have gotten the message because when she glanced up, he was smiling.
“You’re supercute, tiger. But if you need instructions, just ask.”
In answer, she grabbed his balls—not too hard, not too soft; she wasn’t expecting a coherent answer. There—a nice, guttural moan, like he really meant it.
Settling into her groove, she sucked and licked the velvety skin beautifully inked by some hot-shot artist in Tokyo so each up and down lift of her head was like a trip to the museum. Lightly pumping his rigid length with one hand so the ocean waves totally rocked and rolled, she gently massaged the pliant flesh of his balls with her other hand, slid her head downward, taking as much as possible of the smooth, solid length of him into her mouth, then with added suction and some tongue slowly worked her way back up again. Rafe’s low throaty growl played back-up music to her performance.
His hoarse, raspy voice echoed her own volatile need as he touched and tortured her throbbing sex, caressed her nipples and breasts, made her all fluttery and needy, warm and tingly, like the pro he was.
Even his choice of soap was beneficent; he tasted of cinnamon. Cinnamon and Hokusai—nice combination, along with his huge dick in her mouth, which was stoking all her freaking hot and heavy, loaded-for-sex desires. In fact, in a total turnaround, she was thinking she’d be happy to take seconds with—like seriously—gratitude. So in terms of pure luck, barging into Rafe’s stateroom was—
Rafe pressed down on her clit with his thumb, gently flattened it out and instantly drove any coherent thought out of her mind. With a high-pitched squeal, she jerked upright as raw, scorching bliss burned through her body at warp speed.
His fingers cupped her neck and he slowly forced her head back down. “Give it a second.” And a moment later, when her cry dropped to a restive little mew and the strumming aftershock subsided, he whispered, “Like this?” and rubbed his thumb so softly over her clit she purred.