Growling at the surge of lust tearing through him, he dropped the empty glass to the floor and gripped the slender strap of her dress to drag it over her arm. It would only go so far. He couldn’t find the zipper. It wasn’t at her back. He didn’t want to look for it.
The sound of the material rending didn’t faze him; what it did do was give him entrance to the bodice of her dress and the swollen curves of her br**sts, the tight, hard ni**les topping them.
“John?” Pleasure and confusion filled her voice now. “Oh, God, John, what are you doing?”
What the hell did she think he was doing? Giving them both what they were hungering for.
His lips slid down her neck, moving for those tight little berries. The feel of them against his tongue sent a groan tearing from his chest.
Sucking one into his mouth, he laved it with his tongue and loved it with his mouth as he lowered his hand again, this time to his trousers.
If he didn’t release his cock, he was going to go insane. It pressed against the zipper of his pants, demanding to be set free. Like a ravenous beast, it throbbed and pulsed at the confinement, silently demanding attention.
Demanding her mouth, her fingers, the lush, hot folds of her wet pu**y. He groaned at the thought of f**king her. Of pumping inside her, deep, hard, feeling the snug tissue rippling over his dick.
As he released her nipple, his lips pulled back.
His hand tightened in her hair as his gaze centered on her lips and he pressed her downward.
God, he wanted her mouth on his dick. Her tongue licking over the bulbous crest, her lips covering it, her mouth sucking him inside.
He wanted it with a hunger he had never wanted anything with before. He’d lost all reason, all logic. Objectivity was simply a thing of the past. Nothing existed now but getting his c**k in her mouth.
Sierra lost her breath at the silent demand in his face, his gaze, as he tugged her lower. She knew what he wanted. With one hand he gripped her fingers and dragged them to the heavy length of his c**k as it speared from the opening of his trousers. Long, thick, the heavy crest dark and flushed. It throbbed, glistened with dampness, and caused her mouth to water at the thought of the taste of him. Her fingers wouldn’t wrap around the width of the pulsing flesh, like silk over iron, it heated her palm and made her ache for the feel of it.
She could feel her pu**y growing wetter, hotter. The ache between her thighs, her hardened clit, pulsed with the need for touch in ways it had never done before.
“I’ve dreamed of you sucking my dick,” he groaned as she went slowly to her knees in front of him. “Nights of it, Sierra. So many nights spent sweating at the thought of having you.”
He had no idea what he was doing to her—he couldn’t. He had no clue she had never done this before; all he had were the rumors he believed of her wild ways. Rumors she knew he believed because he teased her over it. Always gently, always with affection but always with a glimmer of some darker emotion in his eyes.
He believed them though. How surprised would he be when he learned she was a virgin?
Kneeling in front of him, her fingers caressing his hard flesh, she swallowed tightly, fighting to keep her mind clear enough to please him. She wanted to go hungry on him though. She wanted to lose the overwhelming need to simply devour him.
“Give it to me, Sierra,” he demanded, his violet-blue eyes darker, glittering with intoxicated lust.
His lips were fuller, his face flushed beneath his darkened flesh, his eyes glittering. She had never seen such need, such arousal in a man before. It should frighten her, but this was John. This was the man she had ached for since she’d been old enough to realize what aching was.
She was shaking at the sight of the thick, demanding crest, her chest tightening with excitement and fear. She’d never, ever touched a man like this before. Could she actually do it?
Leaning forward, she touched the tip with her tongue, licking over the dampness that collected on the wide head. The salty, stormy taste of him exploded against her tongue, and she swore she was becoming as drunk as he was.
Her fingers caressed the thick shaft, and she rubbed her tongue over the head as she fought past her fear and inexperience. She wanted to memorize this moment in time. Every taste, every feeling, every sensation.
“Damn you, Sierra, suck me. Let me f**k your mouth before I die for it.”
Her lips parted for him, a moan slipping from her throat as he filled her mouth, sliding slowly inside to burn against her tongue.
She moaned again. Her lips tightening as she began sucking the iron-hard flesh, excitement and hunger rising inside her until she didn’t know herself any longer.
That hunger was loose now. She had no way to control it, no way to hold back the needs suddenly filling her, flooding her entire body.
She wanted this. She wanted him, until she felt as though she were dying for it.
“Ah, yes,” he groaned, pleasure filling his voice, his hands sliding into her hair as his hips began to move. “So f**king hot. I knew your mouth would be sweet and hot. Those pretty lips feel like silk.”
His fingers tightened in her hair as his c**k began to shuttle back and forth between her lips, deep into her mouth, nearly to her throat, as she struggled to accept the heavy length.
“Relax, Sierra,” he grated, his voice harsh with lust. “Breathe easy, sweetheart. Take me deeper. Let me have you.”
She’d read about it. She’d even watched it. She could do this. This one time, with this man that she loved above all others. Breathing in through her nose, she struggled to take the wide crest to her throat, sucking on it, her tongue rubbing against the underside as he groaned in approval.
“Hell, yes.” She could hear the pleasure in his voice as the strokes in her mouth lightened, became shallower. “Look at me, Sierra.”
She struggled to stare up at him, her eyes tearing as his erection passed slowly through her lips this time. Pleasure pulsed through her veins, flooded her body. She was the woman she had always wanted to be. She was his woman. For this moment, this hunger, she was his woman.
“So f**king pretty,” he groaned. “I’ve dreamed of this, baby. Dreamed of f**king you. Watching your mouth take me. Feeling that wicked little tongue rubbing my cock.”
And she was rubbing against it, licking it. He tasted of midnight and man, and the effect on her senses was devastating.
As his gaze locked with hers, he reached down, gripped her hand as it clenched against his hard thigh, and moved her fingers to the taut sac between his thighs.