Page 110 of Overtake
"Can't." His voice comes out rough. "Joder, Petra. You're?—"
She kisses him before he can finish, pushing him toward the bed until the backs of his knees hit it. They fall together, and the weight of her above him, all that strength and softness, makes his dick throb against his zipper.
Petra’s skin tastes faintly of salt and whatever expensive lotion she uses. When he finds the sensitive spot where her neck meets her shoulder, she arches into him with a gasp that goes straight to his cock. He files that information away, adding it to the growing catalog ofthings Petra Hayter likes.
Her thong and bra come off slowly as he savors every detail. The way her breath quickens when he traces the underside of her breast with his thumb. The flush that spreads across her chest, creeping up her throat. The frustrated sound she makes when he takes his time.
"Nico." His name becomes a demand as he teases her inner thigh with his lips, deliberately avoiding where she wants him most. "Stop playing."
“Oh, no, I amnotplaying." His mouth ghosts over her clit, barely there, and she jerks against him. “I’m doing it right." Heglances at her over the swell of her breasts. “This isn’t a race, Petra.”
“No, but you're—" Her words dissolve into a gasp when he licks a slow line through her folds.
She's wet, ready, and the taste of her makes him groan against her. His dick strains painfully against his trousers, but he ignores it. Learning her body and discovering what makes her fall apart matters more. For now.
He focuses on her clit, circling it with his tongue, taking his time. Nico’s always been a quick study, but these are lessons he wants to savor. He's learning what makes her clutch the sheets—quick flicks of his tongue. What draws those perfect sighs and moans from her throat—when he combines his mouth with his fingers, sliding two inside her while he works her clit.
"Fuck." She lifts her hips, riding his face, and pride swells hot in his chest. "Right there. Don't stop. Definitely donotstop, Nico-ooh.”
He doesn't. He curls his fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her curse in Italian, and sucks her clit. Her thighs tremble against his shoulders. One hand fists in his hair, holding him in place, while her heels dig into his back.
When she comes the first time against his tongue, it's with a filthy groan that makes him happier than winning in Monaco. Her whole body goes taut, then shudders through the waves of it. He works her through it, gentling his touch as she comes down, pressing soft kisses to her inner thigh while her breathing slows.
“Come here.” Petra beckons him up from between her legs.
He thinks it's for a kiss, until she shoves him onto his back with surprising force. Her strength shouldn't surprise him, but it does. He's still a chauvinist, even though he's seen how much weight she benches.
She grins. “Mi turno para jugar.”Her turn to play.
The sight of her above Nico, all wild colorful hair and flushed skin, nearly undoes him. "You speaking Spanish should be illegal,mi corazón.”
"Oh?" Her smile turns wicked as she straddles him and leans over, her mouth hovering over his, just beyond reach. Her wet heat presses against his still-clothed erection and he nearly comes right there like a teenager."Le français, c'est un choix plus sûr?"
She follows the question with a kiss the French invented and would salute. Deep and thorough and filthy, her tongue slides against his, and Nico's dick definitely pays its respects.
Petra grinds against him, deliberate and slow, even as she works at his belt and trousers. The friction is torture and bliss combined. When she finally frees his cock, her hand wraps around it, warm and firm, and he hisses through his teeth.
"Joder."The word comes out strangled.
"Eventually." She strokes him, base to tip, and her grip is perfect—firm enough to make his vision blur, gentle enough to make him want more. "But first..."
The mix of languages and actions that tumble off her tongue tests his self-control thoroughly. French compliments about his body. Spanish praise for his cock. English commands that make him throb in her hand. She's playing him as masterfully as she plays the media, and he's never been happier.
Though Petra tries to hold the lead, Nico's not conceding this battle easily. He grabs her hips, fingers digging into the muscle there, and turns both of them to put her beneath him. They wrestle, seeking dominance, laughing between kisses until he manages to flip her onto her belly.
"Giving up so easily, Hayter?"
"In your dreams, Bunny Boy, I'm?—"
Her words cut off in a gasp as Nico slides his hand between her legs from behind and checks her engine oil. She's drenched,and the discovery makes him groan. He presses his mouth to her ear, his chest to her back; he’s both covering and coveting her. "You were saying?"
Petra's reply isn't family friendly in any language. But when he presses her onto her chest and raises her hips, she goes willingly, muscles tight, anticipation evident in every line of her body. She looks back at him over her shoulder, eyes dark and demanding, and mouths,“Now.”
He dons a johnny and lines himself up, teasing her entrance with the head of his cock.
Focus. Make this good for her.
She's fantastically wet and they both forget how to speak entirely as he slowly presses his dick inside her. The effort draws a sound from her throat that he'll remember forever—surprised and pleased and desperate all at once. She clutches the sheets and curses in three languages, shoving back against him, demanding more, deeper, faster.
