Page 47 of Quinn, By Design

“Am I allowed to explore?” His hands cupped her buttocks.

“Soon,” Lucy crooned. “I’ve never introduced myself to a lover this way before.”Never felt safe enough to do so. Slithering further back, her skin cooled where his hands had been. She trailed her fingers over the concave of his belly. “You’re hard here too.”

“You’ll find I’m harder a bit lower.” His sigh was barely audible.

“I’m getting there.” She chuckled at the power rushing through her, made more valuable because he was giving it to her. Uncurling her spine, she raised her hands above her head, then lowered them to brush over her breasts and her belly to where her thighs gripped him. Dipping two fingers into her heat, she lifted them to her mouth. “You’ve made me wet.”

“You’re stunning,” he said hoarsely.

“Can you see me?” She smiled, before wrapping her hand around his cock, the satin smoothness making her muscles clench in wanting. The quiet light behind her closed lids, the bombardment of her other senses kept arousal bright and needy.

“I like watching you pleasure yourself.”

“This is for both of us.” She let her tongue drift up the length of his cock, cupping his balls gently with one hand and squeezing.More, I want this intimacy to last forever.

“Praise the saints!”

Lucy opened her eyes to find his hands tangled in the feather doona, as if he needed to anchor himself to remain unmoving. She loved him in that moment. His face a rictus of taut control while he trusted her with his body.

“Lucy. Let me.” His fingers closed on her shoulders, and he drew her closer.

“I want your hands on me,” she pleaded, craving the power and reverence of his hands for herself.

Reversing positions, he knelt between her knees, his voice a dark chocolate. “We’re upping the speed for this second stanza.” His cock nudged at her opening, a dance where he inched forward, barely breathed as he drew back, and finally buried himself deep inside her.

“Please,” she moaned, urgent now, seeing the banked passion in his expression.

“If you insist.” His hand slipped between them, encouraging her to seek release. “You do insist?”

“Niall,” she cried, her body convulsing.

His back was a sheen of sweat beneath her fingers. Still, he waited for her spasms to ebb before he picked up speed and rhythm.

She was aware the instant his patience shattered. Gripping his forearms, she pulled herself up to fuse her mouth with his. Her body started to buck as another orgasm exploded through her. “Now,” she demanded.

He searched her face, and his thrusts deepened, before he threw his head back with an exultant roar. Tremors rocked from him to her, the sensations powerful and humbling. When his weight settled on her, his breath was still ragged. Long seconds later, he murmured against her temple, “I should move.”

“Soon,” she whispered. He wasn’t ready to hear she loved him. She wasn’t ready to tell him, when it might be a case of the-best-sex-she’d-ever-experienced talking. Although she didn’t think so.

He rolled off her. “Snuggle up.”

Lucy crawled under his arm, hiding her face against his chest. “You were rather wonderful.”

“You were pretty good yourself.” Kissing the top of her head, he held her close, soothing her with long, slow caresses down her back.

Lucy could read the subtext, and had her mother’s example in her ear. More words were dangerous when your body felt as light as air, and magic tickled all the secret spaces in your heart and mind.

––––––––

When she woke, shewas still nestled under his heart, the steady beat the best reminder he was real and, for the moment, hers.

“Awake?”

“Barely.” She pushed herself up to see his face and remembered the dinner. “Why were you so evasive about your work?”

“I wasn’t evasive. I just had nothing to talk about.” His dismissal sounded off.

“You’re an artist. Your work is every bit as important as Liam’s or Mr. Property-developer Hunter’s.” She worried at his false modesty. “I mentioned the frames because he looks like the type who’d spend money on expensive, modern art.”

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