He trailed his fingers along my arm to the side of my breast. The tiny tab of the zipper was dwarfed by his thick fingers. I swallowed. The memory of them inside me made my pussy pound.
That was nothing compared to his cock.
My gaze dropped to his jeans. His buckle was undone, but everything else was frustratingly buttoned-up. One zipper and I’d be on display.
But I couldn’t deny him.
Not when his gaze was hot enough to flay my skin. The rosary slid until the walnut carved cross rested between his pecs. Would he take it off? Or would it swing between us as he thrust inside me?
I wasn’t sure which I could handle.
Was it bad that I wanted both?
I hissed as my dress parted, dragging my attention back to the present, away from the nebulous future. Always planning, working the angles. I needed to stay in the moment. I wasn’t sure how long it would last.
I dropped my arms. The straps slid down, and the hideously expensive dress of multi-colored beads whispered off my hips to the floor.
Responsible Kennedy would have been rushing for a garment bag or closet to hang it in.
The new me—the reckless me, right now— stepped free of the dress and let the cool air kiss my skin from shoulder to ankles. No bra. The dress plunged in front and back, rendering one a useless commodity.
“Jesus, you’re beautiful.”
I turned to face him. My remaining nerves fell away with those simple words. The way he looked at me left no doubts. For this moment, I could be the woman I’d always wanted to be.
Capable I had down to a science. Sexy, unforgettable, wanted—those were new.
I knelt between his spread legs. My wristlet brushed the side of my hand, discarded on the edge of the chaise. I flicked it open and dug out the one condom I’d allowed myself.
“You’ve had that the entire time?”
I nodded.
“Man,” he groaned.
I laughed. “All you had to do was ask.”
He flipped open the top button of his jeans. “Blue balls are a real thing, you know.”
“I don’t want to hear anything, pal. I offered to relieve that particular problem.”
“I remember.” So fierce. His stormy eyes were so focused. My wine buzz had faded and there was nothing but clarity.
Tonight was supposed to be about that one shot—the one man who could lure me away from every plan I’d ever had for myself.
“It seems you have me at an unfair advantage.”
“Everything looks awesome as far as I’m concerned,” he answered.
I placed the packet between my lips as I straddled his legs. I pressed my breasts to his naked chest, my eyes fluttering closed at the first hit of skin-on-skin contact. The worn corners of his cross teased my ribs. I flicked my nail over each bead.
Walnut beads. Not the usual bling on a rock star. Each one was smooth from wear. Some slightly irregular. Sexy in ways that would probably win me a trip into the confessional next time I was home.
I traced around the edges of the cross. Instead of a raised Jesus, the figure was carved into the wood. It swung lightly between us as I trailed down his abs to the button he’d already opened.
My gaze returned to his before I tugged open the denim. Each brass button made a light rattle as it was released. The backs of my knuckles tingled as I reached his cotton boxers.
He wasn’t a small guy. I was stretched wide to straddle him. He took my cue. I had to hold on to his shoulders when he lifted his hips to tug his jeans down.
Still, I didn’t look down.
Everything had been about this part of him for the last ten days. The man with the super-sized cock. Rock star. Sex god. Well-deserved moniker from what I could feel, but it was the man I wanted.
The appendage was just the conduit to connection.
I kissed him as I fisted my hand around his length. My center contracted, and a little panic seeped into the heat. Definitely not Photoshopped.
He hissed as I tugged the elastic of his boxers away and slid my thumb around his head. Slick with pre-cum, his skin was stretched and hot.
His jaw flexed as the silky soft head of his cock brushed my belly. I stroked down, and down, and down. He was long and thick, well above any man I’d ever been with, or toy I’d ever explored.
I edged back down his thighs, followed the path of his rosary with my tongue, skipping the beads to taste flesh. I moved over to his nipple, swirling my tongue around the flat disk until it was tight.
He gripped a handful of my hair. “Kenny.”
I kept going. The bite of his hold made my clit pound. I nipped at the tight skin of his abs, trailed my tongue over the sinful lines of his hip bones as I peeled his boxers down.
His cock slapped against his lower belly. I pushed him back and he collapsed onto his elbows, letting my hair go. His eyes glittered in the low light. A reflection of neon from the lights outside carved his cheekbones and collarbone in shadow with a hint of pink.