Page 250 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
He was London’s Lion, even if he had been tamed by a lamb.
Libby met his gaze, and pure carnal need flashed in her amber eyes.
It was about to get spicy.
She ran her hands up and down her torso, putting on quite a show as she skimmed her fingertips along her killer curves. Moving further north, she cupped her cleavage, then pinched her pink, pearled nipples. The beast inside him growled as her full breasts bounced from the force of his thrusts.
“You are bloody perfect, plum,” he bit out, beads of perspiration trailing down his rock-hard torso. “How do you want it?”
“Just like that,” she answered before sliding two fingers into her mouth and giving them a good, hard suck. She trailed her wet fingertips between her breasts, past her navel, to her most sensitive place. She rubbed her sweet bud, watching him pump and grind, their pace growing more frenzied, more heated, and more frantic by the second.
Lust clouded his mind as a coil tightened within him. With the air infused in a vivid indigo hue, he could feel her approaching the precipice, close to the titillating thrill of complete release.
But he wasn’t ready for this to end.
Not yet.
“In the mood for something yummy?” he asked, keeping her close and under his control.
The dirtiest grin stretched across her face. “I thought you’d never ask.”
They didn’t even have to slow down to change positions. There were no hiccups interrupting their heated, grinding energy. His chi was her chi, and they moved as one. That’s how bloody great it was to bed a woman who could wrap herself into a pretzel.
He released her legs, and she circled them around his waist. Sliding his hands under her ass, he lifted her into his arms, came to his feet, and… “Where’s the chair?” he asked, searching the bedroom. They’d yabbed and yummed the hell out of it a few nights ago.
“I thought it looked better downstairs,” she answered without missing a beat as they screwed like they were born to do it. He pressed her back to the door, taking her against the hard surface as he did a quick scan of their new bedroom, littered with boxes and piles of clothing and smatterings of crystals and mini gongs.
That was the other thing.
They’d recently invested in real estate.
They’d traded his rental mansion in Crystal Hills for an estate not far from Mitch and Charlotte’s place in Crystal Acres.
Why?
The donkeys!
There was no way Sebastian was living without his burro buddies. Their new Denver home was set on five acres and included a barn and area for the animals to graze.
Did a lifelong Londoner ever expect to have giant heehawing animals roaming around his place of residency?
No, but he couldn’t imagine life without them.
And for kicks, they’d picked up the Victorian in Rickety Rock as well.
Why the hell not? Who didn’t need a summer place with a psychic vortex?
They loved the quirky town, and his granny was pleased as punch to take up residence in the guest cottage. But it wasn’t her adoration of the English-style home that had her trading the London Tube for the Rocky Mountain trails.
Granny Fin had a gentleman caller.
That’s right, Finola Cress was getting her freak on with Wobbly Bob, or as she called him, Hot Rob.
Did it bother him?
Surprisingly, not that much.
He planned on rocking Libby’s world until his dying breath, and that meant making peace with senior snogging. It wasn’t like Libby would ever get to find out if the like cures like remedy ultimately worked. From here on out, he’d be the only person making her eyeballs roll back in her head as she cried out his name in total orgasmic bliss. With that being said, he had to maintain his sexual A game to keep her happy. Be it thirty-two years old or eighty-two, he had to be prepared to fulfill her every desire. And that was a pretty sweet gig.
