Tempting Her Best Friend(22)

He moved to her other nipple and drew it deep into his mouth as he pushed the rest of her dress over her hips to fall forgotten on the floor. With an arm around her back, he used his other hand to test the crotch of her black silk panties, already damp with her arousal.

“Oh my God,” she said, rocking her pelvis to grind against his fingers.

Standing up straight, he studied her. Flushed and red in all the right places; his mouth and beard had left evidence wherever he’d kissed, sucked, and abraded. Those were his marks. He wasn’t sure what he liked more. The image or the knowledge. Probably both, but one thing was for sure. It made his dick harder than a steel spike and his balls ache for release like they’d been on lockdown for a year.

Left only in her thong panties and fuck-me boots, she looked exactly how she’d wanted to look this weekend: very, very fuckable.

He slipped his fingers inside the black silk and stroked her wet folds. A weak moan tripped from her lips as she arched into him like a cat in heat. Unable to resist the temptation, he sank two fingers deep inside. Alyssa threw her head back and cried out, her nails digging into his triceps as she tried to hold on.

“Damn,” he rasped, pumping his hand in rhythm with her breaths. “You’re so hot. So fucking hot and wet.”

She started to swell and grow tight around his fingers, her muscles tense as her orgasm gathered its strength. She’d fly apart with a stiff breeze at this point. He took perverse pleasure in knowing the toys she used back home were obviously a poor substitute for the real thing. That was just one more plus he had in his column for when she started overthinking his proposal again later. And he had no doubt she would.

For now, he’d take her over the edge…so he could take her again while buried inside her.

With his next push in, he grazed her clit with the knuckle of his thumb. That’s all it took. He captured her mouth with a fervent kiss, her would-be-shouted moan sending vibrations through his tongue and down his spine. He reveled in the primal sensation of feeling his lover constrict around him, even if it was only his fingers. Either way, it’d been him who’d drawn such a powerful reaction from her. Nothing and no one else. Him.

And he was about to do it again.

…

Alyssa barely had the strength to stand and yet she didn’t feel near sated. No, the explosive orgasm that ripped through her body no less than thirty seconds ago had barely abated and all she wanted to do was climb Dillon like a tree. It was like being given a sample of something truly delicious. Having a taste only made her want to steal the whole damn tray and gorge.

Speaking of gorging…

She peered down and tried to imagine what his cock looked like, what it tasted like. Previously, she’d always considered blowjobs a necessary reciprocity in any sexual relationship. You had to give if you wanted to receive and all that. But now the proverbial butterflies kicked up a windstorm in her stomach at the thought, and her mouth watered. She wanted to wrap her lips around him and draw him deep into her mouth.

But in order to do that, she needed to vest him of that ridiculous loincloth thing. Only when she let go of his shoulders, her shaky limbs failed to hold her up.

“Whoa, there, I gotcha,” he said, catching her around the waist and then turning to lay her on the bed. “You okay?”

The grin on his face told her he knew all too well just how “okay” she was. Something told Alyssa not to poke the smug beast, but she couldn’t help herself. “Yes, I’m fine. That was nice.”

“Nice?” His face contorted like the word had turned to ashes in his mouth.

She gave him her sweetest smile and tried to hide the laughter bubbling just beneath the surface at how easily he played into her ruse. “Okay. Very nice. Is that better?”

Sandy eyebrows jammed down over stormy eyes. “I’ll show you nice.”

Uh-oh. Alyssa knew that ninety percent of men cared whether or not a woman climaxed, but she’d missed the statistic that listed how many of those cared to the point that they took an “average” orgasm as a personal challenge to make the next one more of the “mind-blowing” kind.

Dillon held her gaze as he worked the knots free from the straps tied around both biceps. The fluttering of the butterflies had morphed into a frenzied attempt at escape that mirrored her own thoughts. She glanced past him at the door to the bathroom and wondered, if she locked herself in, how long would it take him to return to the Dillon she knew how to handle?

“Don’t even think about it, Aly,” he warned as he positioned her diagonally at the top of the bed. Using one long strap, he tied her wrists together with a few inches of play, and then to the corner bedpost with the second. She was about to protest when he hooked his thumbs in his waistband and pushed the Tarzan briefs to the floor. All ability for simple speech was lost.