Page 74 of Ardently Yours

She shakes her head. “I can’tsayit.”

I rest my hands on her naked hips and squeeze. “Sometimes you can.”

“When I do it, it comes out sounding completely unsexy.”

“Lies. I’ve never heard anything hotter in my life than the night you said, ‘Something about the idea of fellatio does it for me. The kind where you . . . uh . . . finish’”—she’d whispered the word finish, so I do too—“‘and I wouldn’t spit it out,’” I tease.

Her cheeks redden, and, laughing, she smacks my arm. “Arden.”

We’re still smiling when my mouth meets hers, but our kiss turns carnal in seconds. I drag back her blue comforter, then lift her into my arms, and lower her to crisp, white cotton sheets.

When I lap at her gorgeous nipples, she tightens her fingers in my hair, tugging me closer. I suck and lick each in turn, plumping her breasts in my palms. Then I work my way down her body, trailing kisses as I go.

My cock digs into the mattress beneath me, and I do my best to ignore the ache of my own need. When I reach her center, I slide my hands, fingers spread, down the length of her thighs to open her to me.

She gasps as I run a single finger down her seam.

“You are so pretty.” Her feminine scent, alone, has my cock kicking against the mattress in demand.

Her breath leaves her in a shuddering pant, and I watch as a trickle of arousal wells and spills from her body.

I give her what she needs. Over and over, driving her up, watching her signals to see what makes her crazy. My own need is a constant ache, but I don’t even consider giving in to it until I’ve taken care of Charlotte.Give her what she needs first. Always what she needs first.

When she digs her fingernails into my shoulders, I give her more, my thumb swirling over her clit. When her thighs tighten and she shakes in orgasm, I grow gentler, but I don’t stop. Not until she tries to drag me up her body by my hair.

I slide up over her with a smile.

“Do you need me to fill you up?”

Her whimper is nearly incoherent. Then she places both her hands on my face and holds my gaze with those stunning eyes of hers. “Yes. Now. Please.”

Charlotte trails her hands down my body until she takes my cock into her warm palm and wraps her fingers around it. Maybe later today, when I’m not so close to the edge, I’ll let Charlotte play. Another day, I’ll let her kiss and suck me, and I’ll come down her throat. It’s one of her fantasies, so it’s one of mine. My cock kicks in her grip at the thought.

I move into position, nudging gently at her opening. She guides me into her. I take her mouth with my tongue the same moment I push inside the warm, flexing welcome of her pussy. I give her all of me, all at once.

This isn’t the frantic, clawing sex of two people unsure they’ll ever experience each other again. It’s the security and peace of knowing we will, and it’s even more intense. It’s the unfathomable experience of loving and being loved.

I maintain a slow pace at first. As it is, the feel of her pussy squeezing my cock has me closer to the edge of orgasm than I’m ready to be.

She tightens under me, and my control wavers. I pull out of her and flip her onto her stomach, then lift her onto her knees.

It’s a necessary reprieve to give me an opportunity to back away from my own orgasm. “Cheek to the mattress, sweetheart. Let me make us both feel good.”

When she gives me a sassy, muffled, “Yes, sir,” my lips twitch, and I drop a light spank to her right ass cheek. Nothing thatwould hurt, just enough to make her laugh and moan at the same time.

She wiggles her behind in response, and something about the playfulness, the fun of this moment, feels so damn right. Then I ease back inside her and reach around to strum her clit, and neither of us is laughing anymore.

She meets every one of my thrusts with her own.

This position doesn’t make holding off climax easier. From this angle, I’ve got the perfect view of her luscious ass and the arch of her back. Every fine knob of her spine is in shadowed relief. My breath saws in and out at the way those cheeks of hers flatten with every thrust, then bounce back when I withdraw. At the way my cock, glistening and wet, shuttles in and out of her snug sheath.

I cage her with my body so I can bury my face in the place where her shoulder meets her neck and guide her fingers to her clit, mine resting over hers, so I can feel how she moves. Learn from it.

“Show me what you need to tip you over. Please.” If I sound desperate, it’s because I am. Every passing second longer that I hold my orgasm at bay feels like an hour of erotic torment.

She swirls her fingers faster than I did. I file the knowledge away into my mental file cabinet labeled “ways to make my woman happy.”

When she comes, quaking and collapsing beneath me, I let go, following her down, clenching in an agony of pleasure.

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