Walking down the hall, he made a detour into Drew’s room, earning him a look of confusion.
“I’m hoping he has condoms,” Oswald explained. “I’m not in the habit of carrying one on a daily basis.”
Courtney’s reddened lips rounded in a silent O as her cheeks colored.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Oswald was able to dig into a bedside drawer without letting go of Courtney. Luck was on their side. He found a strip of three almost immediately.
“I had no idea,” Courtney murmured.
“Don’t think about it,” he ordered, then kissed her to get her mind back where it needed to be. On making love with him.
Once she fought for breath, Oswald stood and carried her through the shared en suite into her room. The still rumpled sheets of her bed suited him just fine. While she truly deserved silk sheets strewn with fresh rose petals, he’d take rumpled fine cotton any time. The fresh scent mingled with her lemon fragrance was earthier, cleaner. Much like her sunny California disposition.
Once more sitting on the side of a bed, he settled her on his lap, took off his glasses, set them on the night stand, and took her mouth again. He dropped the condoms beside his glasses, then slid his hand up under the scrap of fabric she probably called a camisole pajama top. Under his palm the muscles of her abdomen fluttered.
“So soft. Warm. Beautiful,” he murmured between kisses.
Her hand drifted from around his neck, down over his shoulder, to his chest, and lower to his abs that hardened at the light touch as she studied his muscles like a blind woman memorizing a sculpture. Each place her tiny fingers touched burned as if scorched.
Slowing down, gently approaching her breast, was one of the harder things he’d ever done. Known for his slow hands, he wanted to throw that reputation out the window. He wanted to touch all of her, kiss everywhere, taste everything all at once. Her mouth tasted of coffee and innocence. Her skin as soft as silk. Her body strong and supple, firm and soft, slender yet perfectly proportioned. The bumps of her vertebrae smooth and silky like pearls as his other hand traveled upward under her top, pushing it up as he went. The hand on her stomach also traveled upward, his fingers stroking the underside of her full breasts, his gaze on her face.
Courtney’s eyes closed, her face tilted heavenward, she gasped from slightly parted lips. Her profile was a work of art, and given the first opportunity, he’d get a photograph of her just like that.
From her back, he flipped the tiny top over her head. She pulled her arm from around his neck, the fabric sliding off quickly so she could return her arm to his shoulder, holding on. The warm flesh of her torso touched his. Under her thighs he hardened, pushing up against her, seeking the space heating against his thigh. Impatiently she pulled her hand from his stomach long enough for her top to fall away completely with a flick of his wrist.
Slowly, determined to not startle her out of her moment of growing ecstasy, he gently cradled one weighty breast, cupping her, savoring the joy at holding her. Without opening her eyes, Courtney inhaled deeply, her breath catching as his thumb glided over her tightened, berry-pink nipple.
“More.”
Oswald watched her face, once more skipping a finger over her very tender nipple.
Courtney’s face tilted downward again, her eyes opening only enough to see him through her lashes. Full pink lips parted to form the order, “More.”
He curled his forefinger up to join his thumb, capturing her nipple between them. Slowly, drawing out her agony, he applied pressure until he had her tightly clamped and her breath hitched. Just as slowly he rolled her flesh between his digits. A flattering pink warmed her skin and she squirmed on his lap. When he moved to pulling, equally as controlled and slow, she moaned, thrusting her breast into his hand. Against his chest he felt her neglected nipple grazing his skin, exquisitely torturing him, reminding him he wanted to touch all of her.
As her body arched more, he cupped the back of her skull, holding her as she once more gasped toward the ceiling. Wanting her breath, he gently kissed the corner of her mouth, extending his tongue to taste her lips.
With a slight turn of her head, he took those sweet lips as they opened for him, her tongue tentatively touching his lower lip. God, he groaned, she tasted better than the finest whisky, rich and sweet.
Amazed he could focus on more than one sensation, he continued to roll and tug her nipple, feeling her moist heat grow against his thigh.
One small twist of her torso and Courtney pressed both breasts against his chest, the hard points shocking him into momentary stillness. The slow torture was more than he could handle, despite his desire to go slow for her.
Abandoning the plan, for a few minutes anyway, he grasped her waist and lifted her. “Stand up a second, love.”
She mewled in protest, but did as he demanded. It barely took a heartbeat for her bottoms to slide over her hips to land on the floor around her feet. Without pause, she reached for the waistband of the shorts he’d borrowed from Drew’s closet. Determined to control the pace, he stood. She beat him to the punch by pushing the garment down a second before he lifted her in his arms again.
“Naughty girl. You have to trust me here. I’m the teacher, remember?”
“I think you can speed up the lesson a little.” It was her only complaint as she once more clung to his shoulders.
“Patience, wench. Good things to come to girls who wait for them.” He turned and lowered her to the rumpled bed and disengaged her arms from around his neck. “Now lie back so I can see you.”
“I want to see you too. Last time I didn’t get the chance.”
Her small pout was adorable. She truly was annoyed he’d kept his trousers on in her hotel room. Well, now she could look, and her eyes glazed over as she drank in the sight of him at full salute. Her blue eyes darkened, and her little pink tongue swept her swollen bottom lip, leaving it glistening. Instantly giving him a vision of those sweet lips wrapped around him. A fantasy for later.
For now, he had a girl to convert to a woman, and she needed special care.
He knelt on the bed, then fell forward to rest on his hands. Gaze firmly captured on her eyes, he crawled over her, using his knees to nudge hers aside enough to settle between creamy golden thighs. The brazen wench crooked a finger, calling him to come to her. Braced over her body, he shook his head. “I’m calling the shots, darling. Lie back and enjoy.”
“Ozzie,” she huffed out in frustration. “You’re killing me.”
“Then you’ll die with a smile on your face,” he promised, then bent to take her neglected nipple between his lips.
The gasp and arching of her body filled him satisfaction. Her nails skimming his scalp as she tunneled into his hair induced a flame of pleasure that traveled from point of contact down his spine to his bollocks. Nothing shy and sweet about this innocent miss. She knew exactly what she wanted even if she couldn’t put a name to it.
Resisting her attempt to hold him there, he nuzzled her other breast and treated the nipple to a long suckle, enjoying the writhing of her body rising to his. Following a path previously scouted, he trailed kisses and dots of moisture from his tongue down her sternum, around her belly button, and continued to the trimmed patch of blonde hair at the junction of her thighs.
The soft hair tickled his face, and the scent of her heat filled his nostrils, making his mouth water to taste her again.
He slipped his arms under her thighs and used his hands to hold her hips down. He’d almost forgotten her ability to move against his mouth. Movement reined in for the moment, he took advantage, using his shoulders to press her thighs open wider, opening her to his view.
She shuddered at the small stream of air he blew over her quivering flesh. So wet already. She smelled even sweeter here, and he bent his head to taste her. At the first glancing sweep of his tongue down her outer lips, she moaned and tried to thrust upward, only to be held back by his grip. It was possible he�
��d leave fingerprint-sized bruises. A small mark to remind her she was his now. A thought he’d never entertained before. Had he ever taken a virgin to bed? He didn’t think so. A reminder to slow down and make this memory one they’d both treasure for a lifetime. Draw out every moment until it was engraved upon their memory neurons. Settled in their cells for eternity.
She wasn’t the only one changing today. Tonight. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her at Court and Randi’s Sussex wedding, he’d been doing his best to steer away from this very occasion. He’d fought to maintain distance, but every event seemed to toss them into the same sphere time and time again. He wouldn’t walk away from this without some mark on his soul. What kind of mark was still up for debate.
Under his tongue she quivered and moaned, straining against his hold, whimpering for the release he held just out of her reach. The longer he held it back, the wetter she grew. Very necessary to the impending joining.
Two sides of his soul fought for and against the coming claiming. One side cringed at the pain he’d inflict, the other pushed for the pleasure to follow. At last she sobbed, begging him for mercy. With a carefully aimed flick of his tongue, precisely timed suckle, she broke against his mouth, her body stiffly arching with a wordless cry from her elegant throat, before bucking and calling out his name.
While she quivered with aftershocks, he rose up on his hands and knees, crawling over her body to reach for a condom he swiftly rolled into place. She was still gasping as he pressed his cock into her oh so wet cunny.
“It’s time, love,” he said through gritted teeth.
Courtney didn’t say a word, just nodded and gripped his arms now braced beside her breasts. Lord, she was a beauty, her skin flushed a deep pink, eyes glazed, nipples hard as little red berries. And she was his for the taking.
He slid into her, pausing at the constriction he met. He took a few short strokes, almost fighting her tight muscles for admittance. Each thrust growing easier as she relaxed, and her natural moisture rushed in, allowing him to advance fractions of an inch at a time. When her gaze met his, when she smiled at him, he grit his teeth, pulled back, then thrust forward with a greatly restrained grunt when he wanted to roar.
Beneath him Courtney stiffened with a surprised yelp.
“That’s it, love. Just hold still and you’ll adjust.” The gruff, raspy voice coming from him was foreign.
“That hurt.” She lightly slapped his shoulder. “But then again, I knew to expect it,” she whispered.
“We’ll talk about it later.” God knew he didn’t want to talk now. He wanted to move inside her. Desperately. “Is it easing?”
Small frown lines formed between her eyes, but he could see the pain fading along with the panic. The panic and pain just about killed him. “Is it better?” He moved a fraction of an inch and her face began to clear.
“Yeah. It’s fading. And I feel…”
Slowly he withdrew half an inch and just as slowly thrust forward, going a bit deeper.
“Oooohhhhhh,” she drew out the word on a long exhale. “Yeah, Ozzie, there. That.”
Thank God, he silently prayed, and began to move. Still slow, far slower than instinct demanded, but slow enough to bring her back, build her passion. In her eyes, he watched the transformation from pain to blazing desire. It didn’t take long for her to join him, matching her movements to his.
“That’s right, love. Let the passion build again.”
Her hands roamed his chest, grazing his nipples, sliding down his sides, around to his back.
His arms shaking from the strain, he lowered himself until his elbows held his body over hers. Close enough her nipples rubbed against his chest, high enough he didn’t crush her and he could keep eye contact with her.
The glaze began to spread over her beautiful blue eyes as he felt her body arch and strain against him. “Faster, oh please, faster…”
This is what the stairway to heaven felt like. The writhing of two bodies covered with a light sheen of sweat, her tight channel clasping around his cock, drawing him in deeper, seeking the very heart of a woman. This woman. The woman whose innocent hands stroked his back as if stoking a fire. Soft thighs braced his hips, then circled his waist as she brought her legs up to hug him tighter.
Pinning her arms to her sides, he curled his hands around her shoulders, feeling the fragility of her even as he increased the pace, angling his pelvis to press against her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her gasp was his reward while a streak of lightning traveled down to the base of his spine. He wouldn’t last much longer and knew it was iffy for her to climax with him. More than anything he didn’t want to leave her behind.
Shifting his weight to his left arm, he wedged the right between them and stroked her.
Holding back waiting for that first shudder of her release just about killed him, but by God he’d take her with him even if it gave him a heart attack.
And just when he thought his heart would burst, she arched up, a thin wail on her lips, before her climax broke with a force that rolled her head back and forth on the pillow.
She called out his name, her nickname for him, over and over again, clutching him tighter as fire brought his body to a boil and he found his own bliss rolling on and on before at last the waves began to calm and his body slumped onto hers.
With the last of his strength he pulled his hand away from where their bodies melded into one and reestablished his semi braced position over her. Both of them were breathing hard enough he feared collapsing and crushing her.
An eternity of her body pulsing around him, massaging the last drops of his energy, passed before she heaved a great sigh of happiness. His face was buried in the fine blonde strands spread over the pillow, inhaling the scents of her, them, the best perfume in the world. Lazily his lips touched her throat and she shivered.
“Oh. Wow.” She sighed again.
“The sweet mystery of life,” he murmured.
“Oh, how very sweet it is.” She kissed his ear and rubbed her hands up and down his back. “I could stay here forever.”
It was a weak effort, but somehow he managed a chuckle.
“Oh, do that again. I felt it everywhere.”
The baggage was incorrigible. Finding one more spurt of energy, he rolled, taking her with him until he lay on his back with her draped over him, still connected. He needed to deal with the condom, but he didn’t want to let go. Instead he nuzzled her temple.
“Disadvantage of condoms, I need to dispose of it before it leaks.” Even to his own ears he sounded mournful.
Courtney lightly pressed her lips to his. “Okay. Go. Be responsible, then come right back.”
“As you wish.” He kissed her, then gently rolled her off his chest, disengaging them.
In the bathroom he took care of business, then rounded up a cloth he wet with warm water. Courtney was sprawled on the bed, more than half asleep.
He sat at her hip and gently used the cloth to clean her. At the look of perfect fulfillment on her face, a glow of something primal filled his chest.
She was his.
And damn his soul, he didn’t want another living being ever seeing her like this.
Chapter 22
At Ozzie’s touch, Birdie stirred, a little embarrassed to have him tend to her in such an intimate manner. Not so embarrassed that she protested. She was far too tired for that. Far too satiated to care.
Ozzie finished and tossed the damp cloth back toward the bathroom. She opened her eyes as the bed dipped from him once more crawling up the bed, kissing her bits as he came back. First a kiss and a lick on her mound that made her squirm at the tenderness he found there. Then one hip bone, followed by the other. He kissed her navel, each rib, and finally each nipple. She moaned and reached for him, not resisting an inch when he curled his arms under her shoulders, and pressed his lips to hers as he rolled them until once more she was draped over him like a cheap blanket.
Ear p
ressed to his chest, she listened to the soothing rhythm of his heart, the sound of his lungs exchanging air like the gently shushing of waves on a beach. A natural lullaby that pulled her under.
The sun was considerably lower in the sky when she woke to the gentle stroking of his hands moving up and down her back.
A little moan escaped her. “Am I too heavy?”
“No. You’re perfect.”
His voice was a rumble beneath her. With his accent, unbelievably sexy. His breath a warm puff against the top of her head.
“You’re the perfect one,” she mumbled before yawning. To her mortification, her stomach growled right along.
Amusement laced his voice. “Sounds like time for a shower, then dinner.”
“Mmm. Sounds wonderful. I can get something from the freezer and drop it in the oven.”
“Shower first; then we’ll see what we can scrounge up.”
Ozzie rolled until she was under him once more. She could get used to this, she realized. “Can we do that again?”
He kissed her deeply, then pulled back and brushed a strand of hair off her face. “Not for a day at least, love. You’re probably a little sore about now.” The look in his eyes was extremely tender. “I hurt you. Couldn’t be helped, but it’s over and done now. I’m only sorry we’ll have to restrain ourselves until the soreness is gone.”
“You’ve been reading old wives’ tales.” Birdie let herself pout playfully. “I’m not sore.”
Ozzie’s smile was crooked. “Wait until you try to walk. You’ll probably feel like you’ve been on a horse for a full day. Bet you look cute walking bowlegged.”
Laughter burst from her. “I bet not.”
Her Improper Affair Page 22
