All Lit Up: Pleasure Inn, Book 3 Page 9

  She’d exercised her body, trained her muscles to make a man come quickly, but now she pushed the numbness aside, opened herself to the sensations and the emotions. Instead of fake words of praise for her lover, she centered on her own pleasure, wanted to draw the sensation out, to feel the pleasure he could give her.

  Bracing her weight on her palms instead of her elbows, she rose up, making him work just a little harder to stay inside her. Making him need to stay inside her. She hadn’t turned to her old tricks. Instead of letting her mind shut off, she reveled in the feelings he worked to give her.

  “Christ, Isabella,” he grunted, making shallow thrusts to find his way back to the same depth, sending tingles of pleasure through her.

  Keeping him at the same angle, she backed against him, frustrating him, pleasing herself.

  She took one of his hands, guided it to cover her, guided one finger down to stroke her, and she came. Hard. Out of control.

  He unhooked her arm from around his neck and bent her over the dresser again, pounding into her, drawing out her pleasure till he came too, collapsing breathless and sweaty across her back.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised or hurt when he didn’t cuddle her. Instead, he withdrew almost immediately to deal with the condom, then closed his hand around hers, almost a tender gesture.

  “Let’s go shower.”

  As she followed him to the bathroom, she got a good look at his streamlined body, no fat anywhere. She watched him lean in to adjust the water temperature, then he stepped in first and reached for her.

  “I want to touch you everywhere,” he said, backing under the spray to shield her.

  “I think you did,” she murmured shyly, not sure whether to face him after he’d seen what he could do to her, how he could make her lose control.

  Gently, he turned her so her back was to him and bent his head to the curve of her shoulder, sucking the spray of water from her skin. He slid his palms down her arms, up into her hair. “So soft,” he whispered.

  His erection nudged her bottom before he eased back, gliding his hands over her breasts to the vee of her thighs then up again to her breasts to flick her nipples.

  “Shepard,” she whispered.

  “Alex,” he said against her skin.

  “Alex.” She twisted in his arms, letting her skin slide against his and she pulled his head down.

  Alex closed his mouth over hers. God, she was everything he’d dreamed about and more, soft, giving, welcoming. Responsive. Every brush of his touch over her skin had her sighing or gasping, like she was some virgin who’d never been touched. Like she lived for him to touch her. So he touched her and kissed her, bending her over his arm, taking her mouth greedily, taking, taking. And she gave.

  Alex didn’t want to be on his feet anymore. He wanted her under him. He shut off the water and swept her up in one of the big towels, stroking it over her smooth skin. She blushed and gave him a beautiful smile. What did that mean? Had he crossed a line here? Could he stop himself if he had?

  Not yet, he couldn’t. He lifted her in his arms and carried her in to the bed, kneeling over her. His arousal pulsed in his blood, his need to take. He tasted her luscious mouth, the sweet curve of her throat, the lush flesh of her breasts, her dark nipples, one at a time, rolling them with his tongue, dragging moans from her. Her legs parted around his waist, and she pressed against him. The scent of her desire was like a hand, reaching out to stroke him, to entice him. His erection leapt in response, but he reined his desire in.

  He was practiced at that.

  He nuzzled and licked her breasts, then peeled himself away. She whimpered in protest, a gorgeous sound, but when he returned with his foil packet, she sat up and took it.

  “I haven’t touched you,” she said softly.

  Her fingertips hovered near his erection, and it took every ounce of will not to shove himself at her. If she touched him now, he didn’t think he’d have any control.

  But he wanted her hands on him.

  He knelt on the bed, giving her implicit permission. She closed her fingers around him, stroked up toward the tip with a gentle swirling motion, again and again till he thought his teeth would pulverize with the effort not to come.

  Then she lowered her head, and her cool breath rushed across his sensitive flesh.

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