Page 49 of Dream Chaser
I plant my foot on his shoulder, a feeble attempt to regain some control.
He chuckles, a deep, primal sound that resonates from his chest. “Too far?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement.
“You’re on Mars, Skinner. Bring it back to Earth or?—”
But then he licks me, lowering my ass back to the mattress, his tongue a hot, velvety caress.
He growls against my skin, “Fuck, you taste amazing.”
His arms are wrapped around my outer thighs, his thumb stroking up and down my seam, his eyes never leaving mine. “So pretty, Iz,” he murmurs, sticking his thumb in his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he savors my taste. “Mmmm.”
“Skinner, just …” I start, but he pushes a finger inside me, his touch sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. He moves beside me, his fingers curling, hitting a spot that sends jolts of electricity through my body. His breath is hot and ragged at the shell of my ear, his hardness pressing against me.
“Just what, Iz?” he whispers, his voice a husky growl.
“More,” I moan, reaching for him.
He pins my arm between us, his voice a rough whisper. “Ladies first.”
I protest weakly, but he silences me with his touch, his fingers doing things—incredible things—that leave me breathless and aching for more.
Again, I arch against him, and this time, he nips my earlobe, eliciting a whimper from deep inside of me.
His finger sinks between my folds, parting my soaked lips, and begins running the length of me. My thighs start to tense, my body trembles, and he wraps his other hand around my hip to hold me steady.
“Give me those fucking lips,” he hisses.
I turn my head, my eyes meet his, which are no longer that mossy green; they’re nearly black as they focus on my lips. For a few moments, I feel like he’s just gonna stare at them, and my mouth and throat go dry. I swallow hard and wet my lips with my tongue right before his crash against mine, capturing my mouth, my moans, my whimpers and groans. Then his finger slips inside of me again, sliding up to meet my swollen clit. My body convulses at the first touch as he slips his fingers along that line again before he dips deep inside of me.
I cry out as my head flies back against his shoulder, my back arching, giving him more access. He smiles right before his lips glide down my neck, nipping at the skin as his fingers work magic inside of me, in and out, slowly, a controlled pace, driving a little deeper as I writhe and moan under his touch. His other hand travels up my body between my breasts, fingers lightly gripping the base of my neck. His hand tightens, and I like it … which briefly causes me to doubt … everything. He fucks me with his fingers as our lips and tongues taste one another’s.
“Give those lips back,” he growls.
When he breaks our kiss, I see a small smile curl on his lips. His hand descends again, sliding between my breasts then back up, palming one tit, pulling me harder against him, allowing me to feel his hard length against my body as his fingers continue working their magic, moving slowly in and out of me. He squeezes my breast, plucks my nipple, and I see stars.
“Yes, yes, yes!”
My voice? I don’t even recognize it. It’s needy, throaty, and thick with desire for him to continue as I feel my orgasm is within reach. Then again, it always is. It’s always right there, just out of reach. But this, this is right …
“Oh, no … no … oh …” My eyes fly open as my heart pounds when they meet his. A knowing smile curls on his lips when he sees that I’m ready to fall apart.
“I got you, Iz. Now give it to me,” he hisses through his teeth.
It wouldn’t matter if I tried to stop. No way in hell is that happening, and so I do. I give it to him.
“That’s it, Iz. Fuck yes. Fuck … yes, just like that.”
And it is …just like that.
My heart thunders in my chest, and my lungs drag for air like I just finished running the Glen stairs for field hockey practice. I’m freaking clinging to him, one hand twisted in his hair, the other pressed hard against his bare chest, like I need to hangon to him or I might float away. My legs? Forget it. Noodles. Absolutely useless.
He hasn’t moved. He’s still holding me, anchored to me. His hand cupping the back of my head, holding it firmly so my forehead is resting lightly on his chest as I try to get my breath evened out.
After a few minutes, he shifts, pulling back just enough to look me over like he’s memorizing every inch of me in this exact state. Hair a mess. Body trembling. Eyes wide and a little wild.
“You gonna sleep?” he asks, voice rough.
I swallow hard. “I mean, eventually.”
