Ten seconds. Impressive.
“What?” I ask, my eyes wide and innocent.
“You’re vacuuming. You should be resting.”
“I’m not sick.”
“You’re still taking antibiotics. You’re sick.”
“Am not,” I tell him as I drop the vacuum handle, and it falls to the floor. Reaching down to the hem of the long sleeved T-shirt I’m wearing, I lift it up and pull it over my head, dropping it carelessly on the floor.
Gavin watches me intently, swallows hard, and asks, “What are you doing?”
“Seducing you,” I say matter-of-factly.
His eyes roam over the peach, satin bra I had carefully chosen after my shower a few hours ago. I personally know it happens to go well with the olive tone of my skin, plus it plumps my breasts up nicely.
My hands go to the buttons on my jeans, and I shimmy out of them, kicking them over my bare feet. Gavin’s eyes feast on the matching peach panties I have on. Just to keep his attention there, I bring my hand up to my stomach, idly stroking the skin there with my fingertips. Then I drop my hand, skirting one finger under the top elastic band.
“You should be in bed,” Gavin says thickly, his eyes pinned to my hand as it sinks lower into my underwear.
“I plan to be,” I tell him throatily, begging him to move toward me.
The most I get is he drops the vacuum cord from his hand and balls his fists up tight. With a sigh, he says, “Savannah… baby… you need to rest. You have bronchitis. You don’t need to be cleaning, and you sure as hell don’t need to be wasting your precious strength fucking me.”
I’m losing him. I thought the minute I stripped, he would be mine, helpless to fight the lust that I know I can induce. What I didn’t count on was for him to be a caring, upstanding man that doesn’t want to take advantage of what I’m offering at the risk of possibly hurting me.
Stupid man.
Taking two steps, I reach the edge of the bed and crawl onto it. I position myself in the center and rise up with my elbows supporting my weight, which I happen to know thrusts my breasts outward in a provocative fashion. “Baby… filthy boy… I feel fine. I feel great, as a matter of fact, except for this aching I have right between my legs. I need you.”
“Christ,” Gavin mutters, taking half a step toward me.
“If you don’t come over here right now and give me a massive orgasm, I’m going to have to take care of myself.”
“You wouldn’t,” he declares officiously.
“Watch me,” I tell him boldly, and my hand snakes back down into my panties again… way, way down.
I touch myself with my index finger, stunned to find myself unbelievably wet. Pushing further, I lightly touch my clit. My hips fly off the bed, and a strangled moan comes out of mouth.
Gavin is on me in a second, ripping my hand from between my legs and crushing me with his body. His lips are on mine, his tongue deep in my mouth. He kisses me with a wild, pent-up energy, like a tiger being released from a cage, that hasn’t eaten for a month, and there’s a nice, juicy steak waiting for him on the outside.
“Fuck, Savannah.” He practically shoves a growl down my throat. “You drive me crazy.”
“That was the plan,” I moan, pumping my hips upward to rub against his hardness.
Gavin lifts his mouth from mine and looks at me carefully. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I tell him with a smile, kissing his chin, his jaw, and flexing my hips again.
“I’ll be gentle,” he promises me.
“Don’t you dare,” I growl back at him.
He gives me a feral smile and plunges his tongue back in my mouth.
The bedroom is semi-dark, the light from the TV casts flickering blue shades over our bodies as I lay in Gavin’s arms. One hand is stroking my back, the other my hair.
We stayed in bed all afternoon, testing our spirits and our stamina, stopping to nap, once to eat, and then going at it again. Ten minutes ago, Gavin came inside of me supremely hard, nearly dislocating my hips with his last violent thrust, and then kissed me softly for another two minutes. When he finally lifted off my body and rolled to the side, he said, “I’m done. You’ve depleted me. I’ve got nothing left for you, love.”
I giggled and rolled into him, placing my head in the crook of his shoulder and my arm across his waist. His own arms gathered me in close, smoothing over my back and my hair, and I felt more cherished than I ever had in my whole life.
“I’m almost done with the manuscript,” Gavin says absently.
“That’s wonderful,” I tell him, threading my leg in between his, enjoying the way his coarse hair rubs up against my smooth skin.