IntheMood

by Lynne Connolly

  “Yes I do. If I hadn’t, I’d have toured Chicago and found some.” He bent closer. “After I’d driven you mad first. Fingers and tongue, darling, fingers and tongue.”

  She shuddered, and he chose that moment to bend and take her nipple into his mouth. She cried out and arched toward him, trying to push her nipple deeper, feel more, get more—now.

  Tearing open the dreaded buckles, she found a series of buttons below. To distract her mind from the torment, she counted the buttons. Four, there were four. Then his pants were down and off, and his underwear went with them. He leaned across her to fumble in a drawer, the first time his touch hadn’t been self-assured. Unconsciously he’d revealed his urgency and inwardly she rejoiced. Because she felt exactly the same. Uncertain, anxious and most of all, desperate.

  Finally he was naked. As he returned to her with a fistful of brightly colored packets, she used her feet to push her panties off and away. He paused and raised a brow. “Impressive.”

  “What?”

  “Your suppleness and that gorgeous pussy.”

  He dropped the packets on the pillow next to the one they were using and spread his hand over her waist, up to briefly cup her breast, and then down over the curve of her waist and down to trace the curls her spa allowed her to keep, which wasn’t too much. But bare didn’t appeal to her, so she made them leave a patch at the junction of her legs.

  It appeared he approved. “A natural blonde,” he purred, threading his fingers through the curls, ruffling them. “So pretty.” He glanced up, his eyes alive with mischief. “Goldilocks.”

  She laughed. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard the quip, but it sounded so much better in his low, rumbling voice. “My mom calls me that sometimes.”

  “But not like this I hope.”

  “Never.” The word ended on a gasp as he finally finished with her hair and moved lower, grazing her clit and moving past to trace her folds. Forking his first and second fingers, he slid them along her crease, the slick sound emphasizing his intimate movements. And she melted.

  She’d wanted to touch him first, but with his soft, persuasive strokes, he was reducing her to a quivering mass. She couldn’t think straight. She stared at him, her hands at rest on his body while he worked her. The sounds increased as she moaned and lifted her knees, keeping her legs apart so he could reach her.

  When he clamped his fingers together, catching her clit between, she cried out. “Oh fuck, that’s amazing.”

  “So are you, sweetheart, so are you.” He pinched her clit and worked it for real, sliding the little peak of flesh between thumb and forefinger. Watching him only added to her arousal. She wondered if he’d ever played a musical instrument, because his fingers were as supple as a fiddle player’s.

  Her peak rose, internally and externally, and her grip on his free arm tightened as her body rose to his command and she burst in a shower of fiery notes. She heard his voice, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying except he sounded encouraging and free. Then he reached over her and grabbed something from the pillow.

  He wasted little time sheathing his needy cock. She had a moment of regret when she wished she’d had more time to touch him, but he was over her and on her. Missionary had never seemed so exciting as she lifted her legs, wrapped them around his waist and drew him in. He took his cock in hand and guided it to her, then he was there.

  They gasped their relief. He surrounded her, his body over and on her, but he kept the bulk of his weight away. He didn’t stop until he’d driven slowly and steadily inside her. Their pubic hair must be meshing now, dark and blonde, the sweet-sour scent of lovemaking, overlaid with heavy musk, already tingeing the air with its persuasive perfume.

  He thrust, his first movements frantically hard and fast, his body impacting with hers, the slap of flesh against flesh gaining in rhythmic intensity. Pressure rose inside her, tension setting all her nerves tingling, a crescendo just out of reach.

  Then he changed his tempo, short, shallow strokes and long, deep, thrusts, none of them predictable. Ten or so and she was done.

  She tightened her heels against the small of his back, held on to his shoulders and surrendered to a powerful, all-consuming orgasm. She’d never come so fast before, or so hard, peaking before she realized her orgasm was on her.

  “Oh God, oh God,” was all she could manage. Not original, but he responded with a muttered curse as he surrendered to the magic they’d created between them.

  His cock jerked inside her as if it had a mind of its own, driving her to another quiver, a coda of pleasure. Without the condom, he’d have drenched them both.

  He cried out, “Violet!” particularly gratifying since she wasn’t at all sure he remembered who she was, and rolled over, taking her with him, so she ended up on top. His cock slid out of her, her body closing behind it, swollen tissues already mourning his loss.

  They kissed, gently at first and then harder. He cupped the back of her head, holding her in place while they took their pleasure in each other.

  He made a small sound of satisfaction deep in his throat, and released her. “Fucking A.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed. “It was, wasn’t it?” Unable to make any significant moves, she rested her cheek on his sweat-drenched chest. Somewhere along the way they’d lost all but the bottom sheet. Even the pillows were gone.

  They lay in silence for several minutes until he tightened his arms around her. “Let’s shower.”

  She was glad one of them had the energy to move. He sat up and took her with him, sitting on the edge of the bed until she regained her senses and found her footing. She followed him into a large bathroom that had a walk-in shower at one end, thankful for a tiled wall to lean against. He paused for a moment before he joined her and she realized he must be getting rid of the spent condom when she heard the toilet flush.

  Then he came to her and wrapped one arm about her waist while the other took care of handling the complicated-looking apparatus that eventually sent warm water cascading down on them. A rainwater head. Perfect.

  He washed her, pausing to drop kisses on her forehead, her lips and eventually her breasts while lime-scented shower gel washed her clean, left her fresh and new.

  Then she washed him. She made him turn around so she could admire his gorgeous rounded butt, perfect for gripping as she’d recently discovered, and the curve of waist above, where the knobs of his spine led up to powerful muscles and strong shoulders.

  He laughed when she tickled between his cheeks, teasing him and then retreating. His reaction intrigued her. He didn’t seem in the least threatened, as some men had when she’d tried that. She mostly did it to discover their reaction. She slid her fingers lower, to the sac holding his balls. This time he groaned when she dragged her nails along the soft, wrinkled pouches.

  And turned around to grin down at her and hold her steady. “You are good, lady. I thought we’d work well together, but you’re better than I imagined.”

  His growled compliment gave her more satisfaction than she could have imagined. “It’s not how I imagined ending the evening.”

  “Have I spoiled your plans?”

  “Kind of.” She smiled up at him, unable to keep the happiness from bubbling over. “I was planning to go home and collapse into bed.”

  He raised a brow. “And I changed that how?”

  “Alone.”

  “Ah.” He reached for her but didn’t hold her close. Instead, he looked her up and down, scanning her breasts, her almost flat stomach, her curved hips and that patch of golden curls. “You’re perfect. I’m real glad I wrecked your plans.”

  “So am I,” she whispered and went up on her toes to kiss him. She sank back on her heels when she’d taken what she wanted, and pressed her body close to his. “You taste good.”

  “I drink a lot of coffee.”

  “Makes for bad morning breath.”

  His mouth relaxed into a smile. “I clean my teeth a lot too. For you, I’ll give up the coffee i
f you want.”

  “What a sacrifice.” She kissed his chest. “For that you deserve a reward.” She knew exactly what she wanted to do. What he’d denied her earlier by being so eager. She continued down his chest, fascinated when she reached his stomach and his muscles tightened. He must have realized what she planned to do. She cupped his balls, massaged them gently, then more firmly as she felt his erection harden. She wanted him in her power, used, and well and truly tasted.

  His masculine musk rose to taunt her, fresh and inviting. He smelled needy. She didn’t know if he consciously pushed his pelvis forward, inviting her to take hold. Far be it for her to refuse an invitation like that.

  The first swipe of her tongue gave her his taste and she knew it was a flavor she’d never forget. Salty, with a touch of sweetness and something like citrus, something she wanted more of. So much more.

  When she took the head into her mouth, he groaned and tunneled his hands into her hair, his fingers curling around her scalp, holding her but not pressuring her.

  She took her time tasting him. She guessed he’d bent to watch her when the water stopped raining on her head, but it still hit her lower back and bottom. Knowing he was watching her ramped up her own arousal, and the space between her legs became damp from more than water. “Touch yourself,” he whispered, barely louder than the rainfall. “Let me see how hot this makes you.”

  She sucked him deeper and opened her legs slowly, careful not to let her knees slip on the tiles. But they were textured, so not much chance of that. She could glide one hand down her body, slowly, aware he was watching every moment. He shifted, and while she could still suck him, he must have tilted his body to one side. To watch her while she gave him head and touched herself.

  Oh God, so fucking hot.

  Heat bathed her fingers, her clit as hard as if it hadn’t gone off less than half an hour before, her pussy open and wet. She thrust two fingers inside as she sucked him harder, deeper, as deep as she could, then withdrew to lick around the flange behind the head, then took the bead of his essence at the tip for her own. From now on, she wanted every drop of what he had to give. Everything.

  Lapping up everything she could, she opened her mouth again, only to find herself lifted to her feet. His hot mouth fastened on her own, sharing his glorious flavors. He took barely a couple of seconds to tear open another packet and sheathe himself, then he was in her again. V found herself hoisted into the air so he could press her back against the tiles of the shower.

  She leaned back, trusting him to keep her safe while he plundered her. His hair plastered against his skull, hers clinging to her body in wet strands. It caught behind her, forcing her to tilt her head back. She watched his face as he pushed into her body, his eyes savage now, dark with need and desire, and she rejoiced that she could do this to him. He proceeded to drive her to oblivion.

  Hard, violent thrusts drove her up to orgasm level fast. She’d always thought she was one of those women who came rarely and had to work at it, but he gave her no mercy. He brought her up so fast she hardly had time to register the fact before she was shuddering against him, her body his to command.

  He laughed, the sound dark and victorious, then with a few more hard thrusts, he gave a small, strangled cry and came.

  Carefully, he unpeeled her from the wall and held her around her waist so she could lower her legs and find purchase on the floor of the shower. He rid himself of the condom and washed her once more, then himself, without uttering a word and without taking his gaze away from her. His tenderness where he’d been as savage as a pirate before turned her on all over again, but her body was far too tired to do anything about it.

  He murmured soft words to her, called her “sweetheart” and cared for her in a way that turned her to mush. Finally he turned off the water and wrapped her in a warm, soft towel. He patted her dry, and only then grabbed another towel and scrubbed it roughly over his body to dry himself.

  “Are they real?” she murmured, relaxed beyond anything she could remember.

  “What?”

  She came to with a start. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I meant your eyes. Amazing color.”

  “Yes, they’re real.” He sounded amused, thank goodness.

  “I shouldn’t like this so much,” she said with a slight laugh.

  “Why not? It gives me pleasure to do this for you and I’m betting you don’t get spoiled too often.”

  “You’d be wrong,” she said, thinking of the way her family cared for her. “But not like this.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” he said, but didn’t explain what he meant and for the first time since they’d entered his apartment she felt a constraint.

  Finally, while he was drying himself, she could look around.

  The bathroom was as luxurious as she’d imagine for a place like this, but anyone could live here. Or it could be a hotel bathroom. A toothbrush and paste in a mug and a zipped up toilet bag were the only signs of his presence.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “A year.”

  She found a towel to bundle her hair into and blot it partly dry. She’d have to do it again tomorrow, when she had access to her conditioner and straightener. Her hair had an annoying wave in it that she always tried to blow out. Likely it would frizz around her head like a halo by the morning. She hoped he liked fluffy hair.

  She followed him back into the bedroom and stood there, taking too long to dry her hair and body. What did he want now? He might want to put her in a taxi. That had happened before, and sometimes she’d be glad of it, to reach her own bed for the majority of the night. But tonight she wanted to feel him touching her. Feel the security of his touch. Strange because she’d never felt that before; she just wasn’t a needy person. But she wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t even ask.

  She crossed the room and picked up her panties and her dress, only to feel his heat warm her back. “You want to go? I can call you a cab, come with you to make sure you get back to your parents’ house safe.”

  Okay, so she would ask. “Do you want me to go?”

  “Fuck, no. But if you want to, I won’t stop you.”

  She draped the dress over the back of the chair. “I don’t want to,” she whispered.

  “Good.” He slid his arms around her. “Because I was preparing to persuade you.” His shaky laugh ruffled her hair. “I try to be civilized, but I’ve never had to try so hard before. Not in my worst days, the days I can’t remember properly have I felt so—so needy. Come to bed, sweetheart.”

  So she did.

  Chapter Three

  He woke first, and she was still there. He’d worried that she’d slip out and go home as soon as she could, as soon as this Jack guy arrived at the café. She’d called him her partner, and last night he was so desperate for her that he didn’t dare think that he was more to her. But he could be. What if she’d used him to get back at this Jack guy? What if he’d let himself be used?

  He couldn’t bring himself to care. Bad, but he didn’t. While she was in his arms, she belonged to him and he’d do his best to see she stayed there, at least for the immediate future. But she was there, lying in his arms, reminding him that the night before wasn’t some kind of wish-fulfillment dream.

  He refrained from stroking a hand down her delectable form, nestled so trustingly against him, because he might wake her. But when he flipped the covers back, she only moved closer into him so he could admire her all over again.

  Silky skin, curves he couldn’t imagine better in a wet dream and a lingering trusting innocence all combined to make her completely irresistible. She’d taken him completely by surprise. Just as he was thinking he’d gotten his life on track, she came and derailed him.

  Remembering his promise to himself to take things as they came, he decided to do just that right now. Careful not to make any sudden movements, he swung his feet out of bed and headed for the shower.

  V woke and stretched before she smelled the coffee. So used t
o the scent she hardly noticed it these days, today there was a subtle difference. Ah yes, she had it. The scent was closer.

  Then she remembered where she was and opened her eyes. A steaming mug sat by the bed. Grabbing the sheet to cover herself, she sat up and combed her hair off her face with her fingers. She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes, recalling her plans for the day. Oh shit, yes.

  When she opened her eyes, he was leaning against the doorway, fully dressed in black again, smiling at her, a similar mug to the one on the bedside table gripped in one hand. She groaned and covered her eyes. “Don’t look.”

  “Why not? You’re a sight for sore eyes. If I come any closer, I won’t stop and we’ll both be late.”

  Oh shit, she’d promised to go to his studio. “Today?”

  “Are you working today? Because if you do, you’re hella late.”

  She let her hand drop into her lap. “Not today. My partner’s doing most of this week.”

  He straightened up. “Partner? This Jack you talked about?”

  “Yeah. Remember, I mentioned him last night?”

  “My dick was doing all the thinking last night.”

  She loved his frankness. It made heat rise deep inside her. If she had anything to do with it, this would be more than a one-night stand. She had to let him further into her life, a little bit, at any rate.

  “We split the work in the café. We’re joint owners.” She reached for her coffee, careful to hold the sheet to her breasts.

  He noticed, his gaze slipping to what the sheets covered. “I’ve seen it all.” He sipped his own coffee. “Tasted it and touched it. If you want, we can do it again. But probably not yet, or we won’t get anywhere today. With you, honey, once is most definitely not enough.”

  Their eyes met, and she knew the same truth. She wanted more. Hastily, feeling too vulnerable, she looked away and took a sip of her coffee, thinking about what to say that didn’t have a double meaning. In the end, she gave up. “So what do you want to do today?” If he wanted to undress and come back to bed, that was all right by her.