The Player and the Pixie(42)

I blew on her.

She panted, moaning tightly, and I nearly came in my pants.

Fuck.

Wanting to improvise and improve rather than just replicate last night, I swirled my tongue around her clit in much the same way I’d just done to her nipple.

“Oh God.” Her hands lifted and threaded into my hair, holding me in place.

I backed off, using just the tip of my tongue and spreading her with my thumbs. I waited to see how she would respond, remembering her words about building the hunger.

She seemed to enjoy it at first, sighing lightly and moving her hips. After a time she grunted restlessly. So I sucked her, because I could tell she wanted more. And also because I wanted to. Because I loved the feel of her flesh against my tongue and lips, the taste of her arousal, the slick sweetness of her. Yet I kept the pressure gentle, because Lucy seemed to need gentle.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God—fuck!”

I lifted my eyes to hers, found her watching me, felt the first tremors of her release against my tongue as she threw her head back and moaned. Actually, it was more of a howl, and it was sexy as fuck.

Her nails were painful as they dug into my scalp, but fuck. It felt so fucking good because I recognized it as a mindless response. She was beyond thought. Because of me. Of what I was doing. Before her tremors subsided, I realized I hadn’t placed any fingers inside her. I slipped two into her perfect warmth and was immediately rewarded with a strangled cry, her thighs tightening as her hips bucked off the bed.

“Sean! Oh fuck! Sean . . .” Thinking she liked that.

Her pulsing quickened, renewed, intensified, and I groaned against her delicious suppleness. Because she was coming again. And it was perfect.





Chapter Ten


@LucyFitz Would you rather live the rest of your life with a human head and a horse’s body, or a horse’s head and a human body?

@BroderickAdams to @LucyFitz Human head + horse body = centaur. Horse head + human body = WTF. So, the first one, obvs.

@RonanFitz to @BroderickAdams @LucyFitz No more acid tabs for either of you.



*Lucy*

Oh, man. Oh, wow.

I couldn’t tell if it was down to me being such a good teacher or Sean having so much untapped potential, but our first sex lesson was going swimmingly. I lay back on the mattress, completely spent as I tried to catch my breath. Then a light¸ disbelieving chuckle escaped me. This situation was just beyond weird. Anyone might think I was getting far more out of the arrangement than him. I mean, he had given me two pretty fantastic oral sessions, even if he’d come prematurely during sex . . .

He was currently sprawled out beside me on the bed, his head turned to the side as he surveyed my post-orgasmic bliss with barely concealed fascination. He’d laid a claiming hand on my stomach; it was so large it splayed from my ribs to my hipbone.

“What’s so funny?” he murmured tenderly.

I shook my head, unable to answer, words catching in my throat.

Looking at him now, his eyelids lowered and his voice heavy with wonder and longing, a force of uncomfortable and unanticipated emotion gripped me. Maybe it was the stellar and surprising double orgasm, or perhaps I was just tired from the trip, but seeing him now, how he watched me made me feel greedy for him. And the greed felt foolish and unsafe.

I sat up and pulled the bathrobe closed, turning away and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. Taking several deep breaths, my gaze then snagged on my suitcase.

“Lucy?” His hand was on my back, rubbing a circle at the base of my spine.

I closed my eyes, needing to swallow before I could respond. “You’re a very fast learner.”

Now he chuckled, a sexy, low rumble. It hit me like a wave crashing over my skin.

“Thank you. You’re an exceptional teacher.” He sounded pleased.

“Ah, well . . .” I forced amusement into my voice and stood, moving purposefully away from him and his warmth. I crouched in front of my bag and pulled out a pair of clean yoga pants, underwear, and a baggy T-shirt.

“You’re getting dressed?” By the distance and direction of his voice, I could tell he was still on the bed.

“Yes.” I plastered a carefree smile on my face and, gripping my clothes to my chest, turned to face him as I walked backward into the bathroom. “Unfortunately, I will not be able to stay for steak and sex. I have places to be and pictures to take.”

His scowl was immediate. His eyes sharpened and felt like piercing icicles as he studied me. I held my breath. I thought he was going to argue.

Scratch that.

Idiot me hoped he would argue. I hoped he would ask me to stay, or flex his newly found flirting muscle and coax me into staying. I didn’t understand this desire, but there it was: weird and alarming and completely unwelcomed.