Page 70 of Single Girl in the City
Identifying his point of entry, he crawled up her body and, making himself right at home between her thighs, he ever so slightly lifted the hem of her top. “Maybe here.” He dropped a gentle kiss right above her belly button. Then one right below.
“That’s a good place,” she breathed.
“I know of an even better place.” Spanning his hands around her waist, he tugged her lower and lower down the bed beneath him, nipping at every exposed rib until he reached the undersides of her breasts. He took his time exposing them fully, wanting to watch as they puckered.
She shivered and, hell yeah, it was game on.
“How about here?” He licked one, then the other, moving back and forth to pull her into his mouth until her back was fully arched off the mattress. Her head dropped back, the pulse at the base of her neck pounding erratically.
“Better?”
“Amazing,” she moaned.
“We can still work on that.” He ran his hands up and over her head, her see-through shirt falling to the mattress. Pressing open-mouthed kisses up her neck, all the way up, he made a detour and captured her mouth.
Most guys went right for the win. Not Owen. To him, the pre-game was as important as the touchdown. Which was why he took his time to explore. And explore he did.
He nipped her lower lip, then went in for several deep, hot kisses that left both panting. As he was kissing her, he rolled onto his side, holding himself up on his elbow. With his free hand, he danced his fingers down her stomach, watching her flesh quiver in his wake. Then,holy Christ,he was there—the exact place he’d spent the past two months dreaming about—the place right beneath that thong.
He’d wavered between teal and red since they seemed to be her favorite choice in footwear color and she seemed like a coordinated type of gal. Sure as shit, it was red and lace and the same color as her boots—which were strewn across the floor creating a path from the front door to his bed.
She might not be commando, but her thong didn’t rate all that high on concealment. It was so teeny and tiny with see-through lace, she might as well have been naked. Which was his next step.
Then, Abi was totally and completely naked in his bed.
He considered flipping her over or maybe flipping her onto his lap—backward. But while he wanted nothing more than to be inside of her, he also wanted to be gentle. The more he’d uncovered, the more the extent of the accident was visible, and the more committed he was to making this the best experience of her life.
A big order, but, like she’d said, he was a big guy. And he always delivered on his promises.
His hand slipped further down. He listened to her breathing, then not breathing, then making this sexy little release of air. “Ah, what do we have here?”
“The best spot,” she said, and then did the hottest thing known to man. She slid her hands down to tangle with his, guiding him lower. “My favorite place is right here, in case you were wondering.” She didn’t play coy or try to be mysterious; she knew what she wanted and, in no uncertain terms, gave him the green light.
He looked up to find her looking back through her lashes. Their gaze caught and held and, for the life of him, he couldn’t look away. Didn’t even blink as she slid their fingers inside and her eyes went heavy-lidded and lust-drunk.
He knew how she felt; he was about to explode and she had barely even touched him.
She picked up the pace, their hands disappearing all the way beneath the lace, and the rhythm became frantic and frenzied. She was close, so close. Tightening around him, her hips pumping up as their hands moved deeper. She showed him what she liked and, even sexier, what she loved.
And who was he to deny her any want or need she had. And, apparently, she needed more because she pumped harder, their hands moving faster until … until …Good god, the until was going to be spectacular.
“Owen?” she breathed.
“Yes?”
“Owen,” she cried out and fell over that edge so fast and hard he could feel her come apart beneath his hand. He stayed with her until she gently came back down.
Not wanting to lose the momentum, Owen was wrapped and ready inHouston, we made contactno time flat.
They both gasped at the glorious sensation of finally,finally,being in a place to rock her world. She seemed to be on the same wavelength because she started rocking and moving and before he could catch his breath, she was on top straddling him. Her hands were next to his shoulders, her breasts within perfect mouth-to-nipple distance, and her ass in his hands.
It was the holy shit of trifectas that had him thanking Marvin Gaye, ribbed for her pleasure condoms, and every sex god that ever existed.
“I figured this was your favorite place,” she teased and then sat upright, bringing him deeper than he’d ever been.
Ah, a multi-tasker indeed, this one. She was rolling her hips while stroking him at the base. It was a double-the-trouble move that had him close to take off. She did it again and then, because he couldn’t help himself, he lifted her off him by her hips and rose into her.
“Owen,” she whispered.
