by Roz Lee
He dipped his head low and rolled each aching nub between his thumbs and forefingers. “Beautiful,” he breathed, planting an open-mouthed kiss on her shoulder. He gave her nipples a sharp tug and released them.
Clare gasped at the sudden jolt of pain, but the gasp turned to a groan when his hands moved to her ribs to stroke and caress.
“I’ll be back to them, sweetheart. I promise.” His fingers made short work of the front closure on her shorts, and before she could formulate a protest, he pushed them and her panties over her hips. She braced her feet apart for balance on the swaying deck and the garments lodged just above her knees. His hands smoothed over her backside like a blind man committing a piece of art to memory.
“You have a magnificent ass.” He gave both cheeks a firm squeeze. “Time for dessert.”
He moved, his hands skimming down her thighs. Clare looked over her shoulder and caught sight of the top of his head sinking low…lower. Oh God!
“Got a good grip on the rail, sweetheart?”
She flexed her fingers and gripped the wood tight enough to leave indentations. “Y-yes.”
“Good.” His palms caressed one ankle—lifted it. Her shorts and panties slid down. Antonio removed them from the leg he held aloft before gently guiding her foot to the deck. As her leg descended, his lips worked their way up from her ankle to her very naked ass.
She had only a moment to absorb the fact she was stark-naked outdoors in a place where others might see her. What most concerned her was Antonio was on his knees, which meant he had to be…eye-level with…. Clare bit her lower lip to keep from voicing her misgivings.
“Luscious,” he breathed, or at least she thought that’s what he said before his tongue swept across her left cheek. He followed the taste with his teeth, nipping her skin.
Clare yelped and jerked her hips. Firm hands held her fast.
“Easy,” he said. “Did I hurt you?”
“N-no. You surprised me, that’s all.”
“Good, then you won’t mind if I do it again?” Clearly, he didn’t expect an answer since he gave her no time to respond before he did it again, this time soothing the bite with his tongue. “Ah, Clare…you don’t know how that turns me on.”
Clare dug her fingers into the railing while Antonio amused himself placing small bites across one cheek then the other. Her heart raced. No man had ever lavished so much attention on her bottom before. He said it turned him on, but Lord, it did the same to her. If he didn’t move on soon, her pussy would drip all over the deck.
“More. Spread your legs for me,” he said, applying pressure to the inside of her thighs.
She shifted her feet.
“Sweet Heaven.”
He fixed his mouth to her pussy. Blinding pleasure overrode any qualms she might have had about her public nakedness.
“Oh!” Her nails dug into the railing. She clenched her teeth and shut her eyes.
His hands gripped her bottom, holding her open for his merciless tongue. And Lord, did he know what to do with his tongue. He kept her off balance, lapping at her slit with the flat of his tongue then dancing over her clit and plunging inside her. He employed the use of lips and teeth liberally until her fingers ached with the attempt to hold onto reality, and her knees trembled.
He wrapped his strong arms around her thighs, anticipating her collapse, and held her steady. She’d long since given up trying to stifle the cries his attentions drew out of her body. If they summoned all the mythical creatures of the sea, so be it. She was one of them tonight.
The darkened ocean and sky enveloped them. The warm salt breeze lifted the ends of her hair and teased at the curves of her body. How decadent she must look. A sea nymph draped over the railing, her hair wafting in the breeze, a god on his knees, worshiping her very core.
Her heart beat a primal rhythm that matched the hushed breaking of waves against the hull of the boat.
She spiraled out of control. Each stroke of his tongue, every flick across her clit, drove her closer to the unknown. There was a dangerous abyss out there. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel herself inching that way.
She couldn’t remain still. Her hips moved in contretemps to the rhythm he’d established. Antonio seamlessly adapted to her movements, using her contribution to his advantage.
It seemed as if even the slight movement of the ship had joined in the quest to drive her past the edge of sanity, rocking in perfect time with her hips and Antonio’s mouth. It was too much. She couldn’t fight it, didn’t want to. The mysterious tightening began in her clit and spread to her abdomen. Another swipe of his tongue. Another dance inside her, and out to shuffle with her clit….
The tight coil unwound, exploding into a shower of stars behind her tightly closed eyelids. An incoherent cry escaped her lips and was swallowed up by the vast emptiness surrounding them. Antonio’s mouth wrung every last spasm from her before he sighed and pressed his cheek to her inner thigh. He kissed each trembling thigh and slowly stood, cradling her with his strength.
She fell into his embrace, snaking her arms around his waist and pressing her face against the satin heat of his skin. Beneath her cheek, his heart thumped like a caged animal wanting out.
“I’ll never get enough of you.” The words rumbled in his chest before they broke free on a groan.
“That was….” She shook her head, unable to come up with adequate words.
“Incredible?”
“Better.”
“I know what you mean, sweetheart. It was for me, too.” His hands swept lazy circles on her back.
“But you….”
“No, I didn’t.” He placed a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up. Their gazes locked. “I want to be inside you, Clare. Now.” To emphasize his point, he rocked his hips against her belly making his state of arousal abundantly clear.
“Yes.”
The word had barely left her lips before he scooped her into his arms. His lips covered hers in a kiss every bit as carnal as the ones he’d placed between her legs. Their tongues dueled, Clare experiencing for the first time her own taste on a man’s lips. She groaned and wrapped her hands around the back of his head in a futile effort to control the kiss. Antonio parried back, devouring her mouth, taking, demanding her surrender.
She relaxed her hold and let her fingers wander through his hair. He eased back.
“Here or the cabin?” he asked.
“Here. Under the stars.”
Antonio looked around. After a moment of indecision, he headed in the direction of the double chaise, and deposited her on it. He dug in his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. After removing a condom from it, he tossed the wallet to the deck and shucked the rest of his clothes. Clare sat up. Moonlight framed his body. His erection jutted toward true North. Before he could open the small foil package, she took it from him.
“Not yet.” She scooted to the edge of the chaise and closed her hand around his shaft. “I want to taste you.”
Holy mother of God.
Tony watched his cock disappear past her ruby lips. She stole his equilibrium, and he was afraid he was going to come down her throat or fall on his ass. Either was possible and both were imminent. He braced his feet farther apart to absorb the roll of the boat and bracketed her head in his hands. God, her mouth was hot, and that thing she did with her tongue…it was…was….
“Clare,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m….” Too far gone. Fucked.
He dug his fingers into her scalp, but she continued sucking him down the road to perdition. His balls drew up tight.
He should stop her. He wanted to fuck her into oblivion, but Christ Almighty, her mouth…. Her lips formed a perfect O, framing his dick. He watched, fascinated. Her cheeks hollowed out each time she sucked him in and holy hell….
Her tiny hand tightened around the base of his cock. She sucked harder, took almost his whole dick into her mouth.
Fuck!
She gazed up at him, and he c
ould have sworn she smiled. Her mouth gave one more hard pull, and he lost it. Lightening shot from the small of his back, radiating to his extremities as if he’d backed into a high-power line. His cock got as hard as a Louisville Slugger and felt twice as big.
Too late.
“Can’t. Stop.” He was on a runaway train, speeding down the mountain with no brakes, and nothing but an epic crash in his future. No woman’s mouth had ever felt so good. No woman had ever felt so good.
His fingers twisted in her hair and dug into her scalp. He clenched his ass cheeks, flexed his hips, and drove his cock to the back of her throat.
Fuck. Shit.
Fire shot from his cock in spurts of pleasure so intense he thought his head might explode. He had no control over any part of his body, least of all his cock. The circuits connecting his brain and his tongue malfunctioned, and a garbled string of expletives tumbled from his mouth with each gut-wrenching spasm.
When he came to his senses, he stumbled backward. He wanted to blame it on the roll of the boat but knew it was all Clare’s fault.
He collapsed on the chaise, dragging her down beside him. She snuggled against him like an innocent kitten. He could practically hear her purring. “Christ, woman. You killed me.”
She rose to one elbow and looked down at him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for blowing my head off. Not that way.” She placed her hand in the center of his chest, leaned over, and kissed his nipple.
Every cell in his body shot to attention. “Holy hell.” He rolled her to her back and covered her. “Give me a minute, would you?”
She smiled playfully, and he kissed her.
“You aren’t sorry at all, are you?” he asked.
“Uh-uh.”
His cock surged between them. “Witch.”
After the blowjob she’d just given him, he shouldn’t be breathing much less horny and hard. He wasn’t a stranger to fucking all night, but he did have his limits. It usually took him longer than a few heartbeats to recover, but with Clare, it seemed as if he was always ready. All she had to do was look at him, and he was hard.
“God. I need you again.” He ground his erection into her stomach.
She brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. Her lips curved up slightly. “I need you, too.”
She spread her legs, and he willingly slipped into her welcoming shelter. He reached for the condom he’d dropped earlier. She made a grab for it, too, but he got to it first.
“Nope.” He shook his head, peeling the packet open. “You aren’t going to distract me again. I’m going to fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”
She lay back and arched an eyebrow at him. “And how do I deserve to be fucked?”
“Fast and hard,” he said, sheathing himself. “We’ll do long and slow later.”
He knelt between her legs, wrapped his arms beneath her thighs, and lifted her ass. He positioned his cock at her entrance. “Hang on, sweetheart.”
She raised her arms over her head and clutched the edge of the cushion. Antonio thrust into her, burying his cock to the hilt. She gasped at the abrupt intrusion but rolled her hips to take him even deeper.
“Vixen,” he said, sliding out to repeat the thrust.
She was hot and wet, and she had an unnerving way of stealing his brains and ripping his soul from him. No other woman had ever claimed so much of him before. She’d bewitched him from the moment he laid eyes on her.
“Antonio.” His name rent the air, a plea from her lips.
“Anything you want, babe.”
“I want…I need….”
“Touch yourself,” he rasped.
He almost choked on his own spit when she placed the fingers of one hand on her clit and rubbed. He maintained the rhythm of his thrusts, but just barely. There seemed to be no end to the ways this woman could distract him.
Spurred on by her self-stimulation, it was only a matter of minutes before he felt the tension in her thighs. Lord, she was a sight to watch when she came. Every muscle in her body grew taut for a fraction of a second, then like a rubber band snapping under too much pressure, she succumbed. Her hips bucked in short erratic bursts, her inner muscles clamped his dick in soft waves. After a few moments, her body went lax, spilling across the cushion like hot wax melting in the sun. Her fingers slipped from her clit to feather across her stomach. Her chest rose and fell.
“Antonio,” she said on a soft moan.
He let her hips fall to the chaise and came over her. Sated, she was soft and pliant beneath him. She opened herself to him and he took what he wanted, pounding into her until that lightning ball of pleasure he’d come to expect with her claimed him.
Chapter Twelve
He’d ordered breakfast brought to their cabin so they needn’t dress just yet. Tony stared at her bathrobe-clad form across the array of breakfast foods on the table between them. She’d pulled her hair into a high ponytail that swished from side to side with every move she made. Consequently, he’d forgotten all about eating breakfast. All he could think about was wrapping that hank of hair around his fist, pulling her chin up, ramming his cock inside her from behind, and riding her like a prized mare.
An image formed in his brain, and he couldn’t have dislodged it with a riding crop.
That sweet mouth of hers would open wide only to be filled with cock, silencing her pants and groans. He’d switch to her ass and lower her pussy onto another cock. God, she would be beautiful taking all of them in at once.
Shit. He should not be thinking of her running the bases. Wasn’t going to happen, even if the only way out of the club was to invite a woman and have her complete the game. He’d stay an inactive member until he died before he would expose Clare to that kind of debauchery. She was too pure, too real for that kind of kink. Maybe their weekend together would convince her she didn’t need anyone but him.
He’d taken her hard last night then made love to her slow and easy before sunrise. If he was any kind of a gentleman, he would let her rest today so they could do it all over again in the evening. He felt like a kid with a new toy. He wanted to play with it all the time. At this rate, he’d wear it out before the weekend was over, and that wouldn’t do. If he played his cards right, he’d have a lifetime to enjoy her body.
“Antonio?” Her voice cut through his lust-fogged thoughts.
“Hmm?” He reached for his coffee.
“Earth to Antonio.” She waved a hand across his line of vision. “Are you listening to me?”
“Sure,” he lied. He sipped the bitter brew that had grown cold while he mentally romped in the stable with his filly and his stud friends.
“I asked if you liked what I did to you last night?”
She took a bite of biscuit smeared with jelly. Her pink tongue darted out to capture a wayward glop of purple goo. Blood rushed south so fast he could feel his brain cells dying. No problem, his auxiliary brain sprang into action.
“Uh….” Eloquent, genius. Focus.
“I’d never done it before. Never wanted to, but when I saw you standing there, and I’d just tasted myself on your lips…well….”
He swallowed a generous gulp of cold acid, hoping his body would send some blood north so he could decipher the code she was speaking. Last night. Never done it. Tasted herself.
“You’d never done what?” His voice sounded like an acid-erosion victim, but he mentally patted himself on the back for successfully stringing together an entire sentence. That wasn’t easy when his only functioning brain would fit in his fist.
“You know….” She blushed, speared half a strawberry with a fork, and brought the succulent morsel to her lips. She chewed and swallowed. “Done a man with my mouth.”
His balls were so hot and tight they felt like someone was holding hot charcoal briquettes to his groin. Lord, she was going to be the death of him.
He coughed into his fist and shifted his lower half. His cock throbbed. He snagged his water goblet, briefly conside
red pouring it over his lap to put out the fire, but decided it was useless to throw water on a nuclear meltdown. Instead, he lifted the glass to his lips and drained it.
“Did I do it right?”
Holy hell. “Any more right and I’d be dead,” he answered truthfully. And damned grateful for the send off.
She blushed again, crumpled her napkin, and placed it on the table. “I want to do it again.”
Lust momentarily blinded him and stole his voice. He clamped his mouth shut to keep from drooling like an idiot.
“Would you mind?”
His cock pulsed out its own answer. Please. Please. Please
“Come here,” he said, scooting his chair back from the table.
Clare walked around the table. He motioned her between his knees and parted the thick terrycloth robe he’d donned this morning. His cock was locked and loaded. A pearly drop crowned the tip. Probably my brains leaking out.
With one hand, he carefully adjusted his balls, reaching for her wrist with the other.
She allowed him to guide her, sank to her knees between his thighs. He caught the gleam of wicked delight in her eyes as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Witch.
“Babe, you can suck my cock anytime you want.” He wrapped one hand around her nape and pulled her head into his lap. Holding his dick in his other hand, he pressed the head against her lips. Clare obediently opened and took him in. Paralyzing pleasure gripped his entire body, and for a few moments, all he could do was fist his fingers in her hair and fight off the wave of darkness threatening to take him under.
His hips rose off the chair thrusting his cock to the back of her throat. She faltered, looked up at him with questioning eyes. He felt like a shit. She was giving him something precious beyond words, and he couldn’t control himself long enough to accept the gift.
“Sorry. You’re doing good, babe. Don’t stop.” He stroked her concave cheek. Her eyelids dropped, and she pulled him down into the depths of insanity. He wrapped her ponytail around his fist, gripped the chair arm with his other hand, and hung on for the ride.
