Page 59 of Fashionista's Playbook

Travis’ lips curled in a feisty smile and his eyes flashed with wicked intent. “I’ll buy you a new pair.”

“Of what?” I pulled myself up on my elbows.

He answered by ripping my satin thongs away at the groin and at the waist. “I want you ready for me, Mariposa. Hot and wet, and I know just how to make that happen.”

“Oh.” I pulsated all the way to my exposed core.

When his head dipped between my legs I shouted wordlessly.

He lapped at me, licking his way up and back down my slit. Pleasure shot from my middle and out to my extremities. Light flashed behind my eyes. And those little mewling sounds I could barely hear over the pounding of my heart—were coming from me.

I gripped his head, my eyes rolling into the back of my own, my hips bucking forward when his lips closed around the most sensitive spot. Travis sucked my clit between his teeth and raked it gently. I could scarcely process the unadulterated pleasure. He made love to me with his mouth…slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to make me come—as if I was the only person who mattered.

Then, with his hands gripping tight to my hips, strong fingers digging into soft flesh, his tongue flicked back and forth across the core of my pleasure, faster and faster until my thighs trembled, and my entire body shook.

He stopped only once to slip two digits inside me and smiled. “Are you going to beg me again, my Mariposa?”

Every part of me screamed for release. I was hiccupping for air, unable to catch my breath. He tormented me on the cusp of orgasm. “Please.”

With his fingers moving inside me, he dipped back down and finished with that wicked flick of his tongue over and over as my pleasure climbed, my body tensing impossibly until I exploded. Hard shudders wracked me. Over and over again, my thighs squeezing his face as he pushed me farther over the edge.

I was nothing more than a pool of quivering muscles on the lush carpet when he rose above me and tugged at my shimmering dress. He tossed it into the darkness where it fell to the floor in a symphony of soft, swishing fabric.

He caressed my naked sides and elicited more trembles. My pulse pounded as aftershocks wracked me leaving me too satisfied and weak to cover myself, to hide my flaws and imperfections. Of which there were many.

I arched my back for him as he unhooked my bra and jerked it off too.

This time, I did move to cross my arm over my chest. Then I caught his hungry gaze and stopped myself. If a man could look at me that way, simultaneously desired and cherished, why should I shield myself from him?

I lowered my arm, for the first-time letting Travis seeallof me.

“Damn, Moriah. Just damn.” He palmed my breasts, kneading them with strong, calloused fingers. “I’ve wanted to look at all of you for so long.” He dipped his head and moved one hand just enough to claim a taut, pink nipple between his lips. He sucked, rubbing its twin against his palm and between his fingers.

Sensation flowed through my body, my skin tingled everywhere he touched, and I wanted him desperately. His lips, his hands, they just weren’t enough to sate me. I needed him inside me.

“Travis…”

He grinned around my nipple. Then he released it, causing me to shiver as the air rushed across the warm, wet skin.

Rocking back on his knees, Travis unzipped his pants and released his cock. Hard, swollen, the tip glistening. With a heavy-lidded gaze, he stroked it, and reached in his back pocket. A few seconds later he’d produced a condom, ripped it open with his teeth, and sheathed himself in it.

I wanted him. Hard, fast,now. I squirmed and bucked beneath him.

“Slow down,” he chuckled on a husky whisper as he positioned himself between my thighs. “I’m savoring you this time around.”

Molten tendrils of anticipation snaked out from my belly and laced through the rest of me. The way Travis watched me, his dark eyes laden with want, his lips parted, and his tattooed chest heaving, sent a thrill of delight skittering up my spine.

I’d had him hard and fast, and it had been beyond amazing… how good would it be when he took his time?

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Travis

Moriah Stanhope was a sex goddess laid bare before me. Every little moan, each writhe of her lush body, was a siren’s song to my cock. I wanted her more than I wanted a fucking Super Bowl ring.

My dick throbbed almost painfully, fighting against its latex trapping. I’d never hated a condom more than I did right then. Never in my life had I dreamed about what it would be like inside a woman without one. Never had I imagined that I could only want one woman for the rest of my life.

But with the taste of her still on my tongue, that’s what I wanted. It was probably the whiskey talking, and I shoved the thoughts away to deal with later.

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