Page 75 of Golden Touch
“Baby,” he whispers between kisses. “Best wakeup I ever had.”
And I’ve barely even started.
I sit up a little straighter and arch my back as I straddle him. I lift off my tank and toss it overboard, and when my tits bounce, he lets out a hungry sound.
“God, woman.” His voice is husky. “Show me. Play with them.”
It’s easier to obey than to argue. So I tip my head back and pinch my nipples while I slowly ride his hand.
And when I moan, he lets out a string of curses. “Fuck me. You’re magnificent.”
The truth is that Ifeelmagnificent, even if it only lasts for an hour. And what’s more, I feel appreciated. And I’ve always run hot. A woman isn’t supposed to admit it, though. You’re supposed to be coy about sex, and play the part of the ingenue.
But innocence doesn’t turn me on. Action does. SomehowNash understands this on a gut level. He gets me, which is why I feel ninety percent fantastic, and ten percent like crying.
I don’t cry, though. I put on a show instead. My hands slide across my heated flesh, and he growls before tugging impatiently on my panties. “Take these off before I snap them in half.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper. “Right away, sir.”
He groans, and I roll off his body to comply. Impatient now, he tightens his grip on the elastic around my hips. And…whoosh!That pesky fabric is gone.
A moment later, he’s also divested himself of his boxers. There’s nothing left between us. “I need to be inside you. And I’ve only got ten minutes, pussycat.”
“Plenty of time,” I breathe. And, heck, I think I might even miss that stupid nickname when I go.
With bossy hands, he rolls me onto my hands and knees. “Hands on the headboard.”
I moan as I comply.
“Hot damn. We won’t even need all ten of these minutes.”
I smile as a strong hand braces my hip, and I shamelessly arch backward toward the muscular bulk of him.
“Here, baby. You want this?” My breath stutters as I feel the blunt tip of him against my sensitive flesh. “It’s for you. Take it all.”
I grip the bed with white knuckles, and I brace my body so I can feel every bump and slide. “Nashhhh,” I gasp as he fills me.
“That’s right. Say it again.”
I try. But he’s already moving at a pace that might feel punishing if I didn’t need it so bad.
“Such a good girl. So pretty. So willing. And you feel so damn good on my cock.”
The praise makes me whimper. He settles into a rhythm, his hands on my body, his breath at my neck. We move together without thought or difficulty. Like we were made to do this together.
And Nash is magnificent. His hands make me want to weep, and the words of praise that fall from his mouth fuel my soul. “Be a good girl and come for me,” he finally says. “I need to hear you.”
I suck in oxygen and try to find my voice. But he picks up the pace again, stealing my breath.
“Can’t hear you,” he chides.
Then he slips his hand around my hip and touches the place where we’re joined. And I’m so sensitive that I let out a cry of gratitude and surprise.
“That’s it, pussycat. Let me hear you purr.”
The sound that comes out of me is more like a sob. Everything is sunlight and molten bliss. We rise together to a fevered pitch, and then take the leap together in a final chorus of sound and motion.
I see fireworks, and Nash makes a sound that’s so deeply satisfying that I wish I could carry it with me forever.
