Something Reckless(51)
Keep it together.
A final step, and her mouth is right there, a breath from my cock. Her lips part.
“Open wider for me, Rowdy.”
She obeys, parting those plump, pink lips for me. But more than knowing what’s about to happen, I’m turned on by the pulse thrumming wildly at the side of her neck as she waits for me. I love how much being bound turns her on. “Please?” she asks.
More blood pulses into my already impossibly hard dick. I wrap my fist around the base of my shaft and guide it toward her lips.
She leans forward, closing the distance and pressing her open mouth against my hip. She licks her way to the other side, dipping down toward my cock in the middle, only to come back up again. “Your body is so gorgeous,” she whispers.
I can’t reply because she’s found me with her mouth, her tongue stroking along the underside of my cock. I fist my free hand at my side, determined to let her take her time. She licks the head, pressing her tongue against the bead of moisture at the tip. Her moan buzzes pleasure through me, and when she opens and slowly takes me deeper, I release my grip on my cock and my hands find their way into her hair. Her moan vibrates against me.
Giving head turns her on—or maybe giving me head. I can see it in the flush of her cheeks, feel it in the way her throat opens to take more of me, the way her body sways toward mine, wanting to get as close as possible. She’s damn near the base of my cock, and I tug lightly on her hair, urging her back. “You don’t have to go so deep, baby.”
She sucks in response. Hard. Damn hard. And instead of moving her back, I’m bucking my hips and giving her more. My control snaps and I rock into her face, fucking her mouth. She moans her approval and sucks harder, working me over with her lips and tongue with every stroke.
“I’m gonna come, Liz.” She doesn’t hear my warning or doesn’t care, and the vibration of her moan takes my last thread of control, and I come, filling her throat as my hands curl into her hair.
When she finally pulls back, her lips are swollen and her cheeks are flushed. Her hair is a mess, half of it tumbling around her shoulders. I want a picture of her like that, turned on, lips swollen, eyes hot. But I don’t need one. I never forget a single second of my nights with Liz.
Chapter Eleven
Liz
He helps me to my feet. His eyes are all over me—my face, my breasts, my hips, the tops of my thighs. My skin heats everywhere his eyes touch, and I wait for his hands to follow, but they don’t. All I have is the heat of his hand holding mine.
“Do you feel okay?” he asks.
I nod. I feel incredible, as if every cell in my body has been hibernating, waiting for Sam, and now I’m buzzing as they all wake and stretch their arms. “What about you?”
He groans, a long, low sound that comes from his chest, and wraps his arms around me. “I haven’t felt this good in months.”
Something tugs in my chest, and I have to remind myself that he’s talking about the sex. He’s not talking about how it feels to hold me or look into my eyes or be with me. This is just sex, Liz.
He tugs on the tie binding my wrists, and my arms fall to my sides. Taking my hands in his, he brings my hands to his mouth and kisses the inside of each wrist. “Come with me.”
He leads me by the hand farther into the cabin and through a vaulted-ceiling living room to a massive bedroom with a four-poster bed, cedar plank walls, and big windows. There’s nothing but darkness beyond the windows now, but I’m sure there will be quite a view when the sun rises.
“This place is gorgeous.”
“It’s been in the family for sixty years. Dad led the charge in renovating it and adding the second story a few years back, but we all use it. Sometimes I come here and just spend the whole weekend in silence, looking out at the hills. Connor uses it a lot too—especially when Della’s in a mood.” His smile falters, as if he’s remembered my history with Connor. He looks as if he wants to say something else, but he just shakes his head. “Wait here a minute.”
“Don’t be long.” After he leaves, I climb into the bed and slide under the fluffy down comforter. Now that he’s not touching me, I’m too cold to be in nothing but my underwear.
When Sam returns, he’s armed with a bottle of red wine, a corkscrew, and two glasses. “Not much to eat here, but there's always plenty of wine in the cellar. Is Cabernet okay with you?”
“Sounds perfect.”
He pops the cork and fills both of our glasses before handing one to me. “You cold?”
“It’s okay,” I say, but my shiver betrays me.