He rose and undid the button on her jeans, and with a slow slide drew the zipper down. He tugged at the waistband and she lifted to help him as he drew her jeans down her legs.
That left only her panties. But he didn’t take those next. He leaned in, and she felt his warm breath caressing her bare belly.
“You smell good. Like cookies and hot sex.”
She smiled even though he couldn’t see her. “That’s an interesting combination.”
“It makes you special. No one I’ve ever known smelled like cookies and sex.” He pressed a kiss to her rib cage, and she shivered. When he went higher, just below her br**sts, she stilled, not wanting to do anything to make him stop.
He didn’t stop. He cupped her breast and his lips covered one aching, desperate-to-be-sucked peak. Her body nearly shot off the bed at the first lash of his tongue against the sensitive bud. He curled his tongue around it, flicked it, then sucked, gently at first, then harder, and she could have cried it was so damn good. And by the time he moved to the other breast and lavished equal attention on it, she arched her back to feed more of her starved ni**les into his mouth.
And just as he’d done since they’d come into the room, he took his time, seeming in no hurry to move south, to f**k her, to do anything other than play with her br**sts and ni**les.
The man was inhuman, his obvious intent to drive her to the brink of insanity—and over.
“Rick. Please.”
He lifted his head. She could only make out his silhouette in the darkness, but she knew he was looking at her.
“What do you need?”
How was she going to voice what she needed when she didn’t even know? “More.”
“More of this?” He captured her nipple in his mouth again and sucked and the rapturous pleasure settled heavy between her legs, teasing her, letting her know how damn good it was going to be between them.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“Or this?” He took her other nipple between his fingers and rolled it. Heat shot to her pu**y, making it quiver.
“Yes. No.”
He laughed. “Maybe I know what you need.”
He abandoned her br**sts and kissed her rib cage again, moving down to her belly, and lower. When he settled himself on the floor, then dragged her butt to the edge of the bed, she raised her head, wishing now for the light so she could see what he was doing—what he might do.
But she could only imagine, could only feel his breath against her thigh, his fingers parting her thighs, his hair brushing her skin. He dragged her panties slowly down her quivering legs, his hands moving over her calves, her knees, her thighs as he drew out the agony even longer.
And then she felt it—a light touch along her inner thigh. Hot, wet, she thought she had imagined it, but there it was again, and she knew it was his tongue, creeping ever closer to her—
Oh, God. He laid his tongue on her, and then licked along her pu**y. Then there was definitely no mistake. It was real, and she was drowning in sensation—the most pleasurable, soaking sensation she’d ever felt. He gripped her hips and buried his face in her pu**y, licking her like he was dying of thirst.
And she absorbed every lash of his tongue like she had never been licked before. Though she had—but not like this—not by a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who did it for her pleasure and her pleasure alone. She had waited so long for this. They had danced around each other, teasing, tormenting, and now that he was exactly where she wanted him, the floodgates had opened. His mouth and his tongue did the devil’s work on her clit and pu**y—relentlessly stroking, licking, nibbling—giving her no time to think, to breathe, to process. She gripped the sheets in her hands and held on, but knew she had no hope of lasting. It was too good, too wet, and she was going to come.
“Rick.”
That was all she could say before she lifted her hips and fed him her pu**y. And shattered.
Her orgasm was like a runaway train. She had no control over her wild response that took her completely over the edge. Rick’s fingers dug into her hips and held on while she bucked against him in a frenzy of pleasure. It had been so long . . . so long, and she rode this one out like holding on to a precious gift she might never receive again.
Even after it was over she still felt tiny quakes of sensation, pinpricks of pleasure that seemed to never stop. When Rick kissed her thighs and her belly, she smiled, certain she’d never been so content.
And they weren’t even close to being finished. They had just started.
Rick moved away from her. The loss of his body contact against her made her feel chilled. She lifted up to a sitting position and wrapped her arms around her legs. She could make out his form in the darkness as he stood at the edge of the bed.
She heard his belt buckle, then a zipper.
“How about some light?” she asked.
He leaned over and flipped the switch on the nightstand.
Ava blinked, forcing her eyes to adjust to the sudden light.
Rick stood in front of her, bare-chested, his jeans unzipped all the way. She swallowed—or tried to—but found nothing to coat her throat.
Da-yum. The man before her was a god, pure and simple. Tall, well muscled, bronzed, and gorgeous, with the kind of wicked smile that could make a woman hope and pray that he was thinking about her. Her gaze traveled down his chest, the wall of muscle at his abdomen, to the dark line of hair that led down to the hidden place where his jeans lay open.
How did she get so lucky to land a guy like this? Rock hard and sex on two legs.
She wasn’t about to question it.
Because for tonight, at least, he was all hers.
Rick looked down at Ava, at the way she stared at him with a mixture of satisfaction and need, her dark eyes saying a lot about what she wanted.
A man could develop a hell of an ego having a woman look at him like that.
Especially a woman as beautiful as Ava. With her clothes on she was distracting enough. Her face could stop traffic.
Naked, she was like a siren about to lure him to his death. Damn good thing the lights had been off earlier, or else he might have been afraid to touch her.
He and perfection? Yeah, they never occupied the same room—until tonight.
Ava was perfect, from her beautiful full br**sts with dusky, tasty ni**les right down to her luscious hips and thighs and the sweet pu**y between them. She was all woman. And tonight, all his.
He’d just had a taste of her, the sweetest honey a man could ever drink. And now he wanted more.