Page 111 of Hard Hitter
Grasping her hips, he turned her around, then dropped to his knees. She looked down at him with wide eyes as he took one of her hands in his. One by one he put her fingers into his mouth, cleaning off tomato juice and olive oil with his tongue.
“Oh geez...”
He took her second hand and repeated the treatment, lingering on each finger, sucking gently, staring up into her lovely face. She’d become flushed, with a soft, unfocused gaze that was just for him. “Put your hands on the counter, Ariana.”
Immediately, she did as she was told.
He gave her jeans a tug, then pulled them all the way down and off. That left nothing but a tiny pair of panties. He leaned forward and began dropping kisses along their hemline, and down to the juncture of her legs. He paused, pressing his nose into her softness, breathing out a long, slow breath that was meant to feel warm right where it counted. He kissed the fabric once. Twice.
Above him, Ari whimpered.
With one finger, he tugged the fabric aside, exposing an inch of pretty heaven. He kissed that, too.
“You’re killing me,” she whispered.
He slid a finger between her legs, skimming her softness and enjoying the slickness that had begun to accumulate for him. “I’m too hungry to wait for dinner,” he said, grasping her panties and sliding them down all the way, so she could step out. “I want...” He nudged one knee until she stepped her legs a bit wider apart. “An appetizer.” Then he fitted his mouth against her body and began to kiss her in earnest. His erection strained against his sweats, and so he gave himself one slow stroke through the fabric. But that was all for now.
Two hands gripped his hair as he tongued her. “Patrick,” she gasped. Then, “Oohhhh.”
He buried his smile in her sweetness and kept up the torture until her knees began to shake. “You okay up there?” When he raised his chin, her eyes were closed.
“Take me to bed,” she said, looking down at him.
“What about dinner?” he teased.
“Later.” She reached down and tugged his chin until he stood up.
O’Doul picked her right up in his arms and carried her there, tossing her onto the big mattress. “Take off your shirt,” he ordered.
Hastily she complied.
“The bra, too. Then I want you on your knees. In Balasana pose.”
Ari’s hands faltered at her bra strap. “Wow. Look at you, speaking Sanskrit!”
“It’s the only pose I know.” He whipped his shirt off. “Whenever you demonstrate it, I want to climb on top of you.”
“I love hearing what’s in your head.” She reached behind herself, unhooking her bra. Then it fell away. She was sitting naked on his bed, dark eyes looking up at him. So trusting. “Right now?”
“God, yes.”
For one long moment more, she studied him. Then she tucked her knees into her body and rolled onto them, facing away from him. He saw her chest expand with a deep breath. Then, exhaling, she slid her arms forward on his bedspread, elongating her upper body, sinking onto her folded knees until her forehead came to rest on his mattress.
“Whew,” he breathed. At the beautiful sight of Ari stretched out and waiting for him, his dick hardening to the texture of an iron bar. He put a knee on the bed so he could press a palm to her lower back. “So beautiful. Even better than in my dreams.” He skimmed his palm up her smooth back until his fingers sifted through her silky hair.
Then he gave into the temptation to kneel at her ass. He ran both hands up and down her sleek body, rubbing her ass cheeks, warming her everywhere. He curled his body over hers, bending down to press a kiss to her back. “Just like this,” he whispered, bringing his eager dick against her ass.He pushed his hips forward to show her what he meant. “You’re open and ready for me.”
She made a happy noise. “I’m not sure I get it. Demonstrate again.”
He pressed his chuckle against her spine, kissing her smooth skin. “Stay there. I have to suit up.” As much as it pained him to leave her, he slid off the bed and dropped his sweats. Then he headed over to the nightstand for a condom. She turned her head to watch him, her eyes tracking his hand as he rolled it down over his rock-hard length. “You see anything you like?”
She smiled at him. “A yogi doesn’t fish for compliments.”
“Never said I was any good at yoga.” He climbed on the bed behind her again, nudging her feet apart with his knee. When he slipped a hand between her legs she gasped, and he groaned. “You missed me,” he rumbled, his fingers sliding everywhere.
“Enough with the talking.”
Well then. Grasping her hips, he pushed himself home.
