“Oh no, I need to feel your tongue on me.” He dipped the tip of his index finger into the batter and then lifted it to her mouth.
She obediently moved the whisk out of the way and opened her mouth. He set his finger on her bottom lip and she closed around it, sucking lightly, then flicking her tongue over the tip.
His nerve endings lit up. Just that one little graze of her tongue and he wanted it all over his body. Some places more than others, of course.
He pulled his finger from her mouth, cupped the back of her head, and brought her in for a kiss. He didn’t go slow. He opened his mouth on hers, running his tongue over her bottom lip where his finger had been a moment ago, then sliding in deep along hers, tasting the chocolate and the sweetness that was all Jocelyn herself.
She arched close, her hand going to his cheeks and holding his face as she met him stroke for stroke.
He reached to bump the bowl of batter to the side and then lifted her to the island, stepping between her knees, all without breaking contact with her mouth.
She seemed perfectly fine with the change in position. Both of her arms went around his neck, and she welcomed him into the V between her legs, tightening her knees on either side of him.
He reached for the bow at the back of the apron, pulling it loose, and then separating from her only enough to whip the apron off over her head. But he took her mouth again immediately after the pink frilly thing was gone.
He ran his hands over her body. He wanted to know every curve. He wanted to know which spots made her gasp, which made her moan, which made her arch closer, which made her beg.
Especially the ones that made her beg.
She was already arching closer and moaning. Her hands were also roaming, and Grant felt them run up and down his back, over his ribs and then to the front, where she slipped them under the bottom edge of his shirt and onto bare skin.
He sucked in a breath as her palms glided over his abs and to his chest. Her hands on him were heaven and hell. She seemed to want to explore thoroughly, and his skin felt like it was burning.
He wanted some of that action too. He found the zipper on the side of her dress, grasping the tiny tab and pulling on the delicate fastener. The bodice gaped, and he tucked his finger in the front and tugged it down, freeing her breasts.
He tore his mouth from hers, needing a good look at her. She was panting, her mouth shiny and pink from his. Her pupils were dilated as she blinked up at him. The bra she wore was also strapless and pale pink, nearly matching her skin. It wasn’t completely sheer but her nipples were darker and he could see the stiff points against the thin fabric. He ran a thumb over one and she gasped.
“Need this off too,” he said gruffly.
“Need this off, then,” she said, tugging on the bottom of his shirt.
His fingers went to his buttons, his gaze locked on hers. She reached behind her for the hooks on her bra.
She got done first.
The pale pink silk dropped away from her body, revealing the most perfect breasts he’d ever seen. He wasn’t picky about breasts. Any size, any color, they all made him happy. But these… these were his favorite. Ever.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he told her.
“Keep going,” she said, her voice husky.
He realized that he’d stopped unbuttoning and quickly went back to it, debating about just ripping the damned thing off.
But then she started to wiggle, and he was fine with taking his time on those buttons, so that he could watch her.
She was shimmying her dress down her hips and legs. The movement made her breasts bounce slightly, and obviously revealed even more of her gorgeous body. By the time she kicked the dress to the floor and hooked her thumbs in the tops of her panties—also pale pink and also tiny—and wiggled them down and off, Grant’s shirt was hanging open, his mouth was dry, his heart was thundering, and his cock was harder than it had ever been.
“Damn,” was all he could manage.
Jocelyn met his eyes. Her expression was sexy and almost devious as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him and had him right where she wanted him.
Well, if this was where this goddess wanted him, he was all in. He didn’t care about tomorrow or next week or, hell, five minutes from now. He just wanted this. Her.
She reached out and dipped her finger in the cake batter, then painted a swirl of chocolate on her stomach. She trailed the finger up toward her breast, but the chocolate ran out by the time she got to the glorious mound. She reached for more batter, then made Grant the happiest man on earth. She leaned back onto her other elbow, hooked one heel on the edge of the counter, and drew the chocolaty finger around her nipple.
“Take your clothes off, Grant,” she said softly, playing with her nipple, coating it in chocolate and making it pucker even tighter.
He couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe. He shrugged out of his shirt, toed off his shoes as he tore at his fly, and pushed his jeans and boxers to the floor. He stepped out of them, kicking them to the side.
Her gaze roamed over him, taking in every detail. “Oh my God, you are so hot,” she told him. Her eyes lifted to his. “So big.”
He grinned and stepped forward and ran a big hand up the outside of her thigh. “Ditto on the hot part. Very much ditto.”
“I’m serious,” she said, looking very sober suddenly. “You’re huge.”
“I’m a big guy,” he said soothingly. “But this will work. No worries.”
She laughed. “Well, yes, I’m sure it will.”
He lifted an eyebrow. Okay, so she wasn’t worried about his size exactly. She was a tiny woman, and he was a big man, if they were talking averages anyway. But hey, maybe the guys of Appleby, Iowa were well endowed.
“But you’re going to have to do a little extra work first.” She quirked an eyebrow. Then handed him the bowl of cake batter.
Oh, he liked this girl a lot.
He took the bowl with a little growl. “Lie back, Jocelyn.”
She took a quick, deep breath, and shook her head. “Yes, sir.” She eased herself onto her back.
Her blond hair spread over the work surface. He was sure there was going to be flour and sugar in it when she got up. But she was going to be a lot messier and stickier than that before he was done with her.
He let his gaze take in every inch. He ran a hand over her stomach, causing her muscles to clench and her to suck in a breath. He spread the chocolate swirl she’d drawn into a messy smear of sticky brown. Then he lowered his head and took a long lick.
It was delicious. But that had everything to do with the silky, hot skin underneath. And the moan that it elicited.
“Grant.”
His name was breathless on her lips and he fucking loved it. He followed the chocolate trail up her stomach, over her ribs, and to the lower curve of her breast.
She was already wiggling and her fingers slid into his hair.
“So, the way I understand what you need, is that I have to make sure you’re nice and hot and wet and slick so that I can ease into you without any trouble,” he said against her breast, before swirling his tongue around her nipple.
“Grant… yes…” Her head moved back and forth on the tabletop.
He really liked how easy it was to get his name out of her. He drew her nipple into his mouth, sucking all the chocolate from it, then sucking harder, then even harder.
Her hips lifted from the table and he grinned. Okay, sensitive nipples. Very nice.
He trailed his hand up her thigh, circling his thumb over her hip bone, then sliding along the crease that led to her mound. “And is there anything specific that really does it for you, or can I just go according to the gasps and yes, Grants?”
“You can…” She gave one of those gasps as he brushed over her clit. “You’re doing fine.”
He chuckled. Fucking chuckled. During sex.
That was strange enough for him. But now he was about to smear cake batter all over a woman.
No one would believe it.
As he looked down at the naked, wriggling woman spread out like a dessert buffet for him, he knew he wasn’t telling anyone a damned thing about this though.
He reached for the cake batter, and rather than dipping just one finger, he scooped up a handful. He let it dribble onto her stomach. She sucked in a breath. He drizzled it up and over her breasts, down the valley between them, swirled it around her belly button, and down to her mound. He moved his hand back and forth, painting swirls there, then dripped it down her thigh.
He followed it from top to bottom with his tongue and lips, making sure to get every drop and to spend extra time on each spot. By the time he moved his thumbs to part the sweet folds between her legs and flick his tongue over the slick, swollen bud there, she was whimpering and begging, and she came almost instantly.
“Oh my God! Grant!” Her toes actually curled and her back arched. Her body shuddered, and she gripped his forearm tightly.
Grant lifted his head to look at her. Her entire body seemed flushed, but her face was a darker pink and she was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling.
One lick? He’d made her come that easily?
Damn, that was good for a guy’s ego.
Several long moments passed as he just stroked the outside of her thigh into the curve of her ass and waited. She wasn’t begging him to keep going, please don’t stop, oh, that’s so good, so yeah, he assumed she needed a second to regroup.
Finally, she put a hand over her eyes and gave a sobbing laugh. “Oh wow.”
He squeezed her hip. “Why, thank you very much.”
She laughed again. “I can’t believe that happened so fast. And easy!” She moved her hand to look at him. “You hardly even did anything down there!”
Grant gave a choked laugh. “Hey, I was willing. I was just getting started!”
She grinned. “I know! That’s… wow. You have a magic tongue. I mean, it definitely got a workout everywhere else.” Her smile was a combination of amused and shy. “You’re good with it, I’ll give you that. Maybe it would have been too much if it had been… applied directly.”
He laughed again. He wasn’t sure what to expect to come out of her mouth. “Jocelyn,” he said, his tone serious even though he was grinning like a damned idiot. “You will find out what it’s like when applied directly.”
She blushed deeper but also grinned. “Good.”
“But now—” He shifted so he was straighter and reached to take her ass in both hands. “I think we’ve completed the prep work.”
She blew out a breath. “Boy, have we. I’ve never been… prepared… quite like that.”
Damn right she hadn’t.
It was the kind of thought that should have him worried. He never cared about the men that came before him—or after, for that matter—with the women he dated. They simply didn’t matter. The relationship was about Grant and the woman he was with for however long it lasted. He didn’t think much—and certainly didn’t worry—about the woman’s history before him or what happened after.
That might make him an asshole, but he cared about a lot of women outside of the bedroom. Women who needed someone on their side. Who had a lack of allies in their life and needed a coach and a cheerleader and a teacher.
He never dated women like that. Women who needed things.
But Jocelyn needed something. Him. And another orgasm. Right now.
He’d worry about the other things she was making him feel later.
Because he needed something right now too—her. And he never needed anything.
Focusing on the naked, post-orgasmic-glowing woman before him, he ran the hand not covered in chocolate up her thigh and eased a finger into her pussy. Definitely slick and hot. And tight. Still really damned tight.
She said his name in that breathy, begging way again, and he added a second finger, gliding in and out, loving the feel of her already.
“How do you want me, Jocelyn?” he asked, circling his thumb over her clit.
She bit her bottom lip. Oh, she had a request. He could tell. She wanted him to be bossy but she had an idea.
“Tell me,” he said firmly, curling his fingers into her G-spot.
She gasped and let her head drop back. “You…” She took a breath. “You mentioned flour handprints on my ass.”
Oh. Fuck. Yes.
He removed his fingers, pulled her off the island and turned her to face it in one swift, smooth move. He leaned in, his front to her back, his whole body against hers, his cock pressing into her ass. “You like being spanked?”
“I have no idea,” she said softly.
Even better. He ran his hands down her arms to her wrists, then lifted her hands to the table. “Don’t move them,” he said, pressing them into the wooden top.
She nodded.
He reached around her, running his palms through the flour that had spilled and was now spread over the work surface by her body. He leaned back, seeing that white powder already dusted her back and her ass. He put one hand over her right butt cheek, pressing and squeezing slightly, making a perfect handprint.
“Oh yeah, that’s pretty,” he said.
She arched her back, almost instinctively, as if offering her ass up to him. He gave her a little swat as a reward. She gasped, more from surprise than pain. He leaned in, his mouth against her ear. “How was that?”
“Hot,” she said, her voice husky.
He bit her earlobe and she moaned. He dragged his mouth down her neck, making sure the scruff on his jaw abraded the sensitive skin. Goose bumps broke out and her nipples tightened. She groaned. He bit the curve of her neck where her shoulder began, and the groan turned to a whimper.
“Fuck, you are so good,” he told her. “I am going to love fucking you.”
She shivered at his graphic language. He leaned back and gave her another swat, this one a little harder.
“Yesss,” she hissed softly.
They barely knew one another but she clearly trusted him. That fired his blood and made his cock rock hard. He would take such good care of her. Did she sense that somehow? Did she sense the way he was feeling? This protective, possessive thing that he didn’t want, but couldn’t deny?
He rubbed her ass then swatted the other side, rubbing away the sting immediately as she pressed into his hand. Covering her in flour from his hands was strangely erotic and satisfying. As if he was marking her.
He was in so much trouble.
“Grant, I need you,” she said, her voice pleading.
He ran his hand over her sweet curves again. “I know, sweetheart, I know.” He leaned over and snagged his pants, pulling out his wallet, and then a condom. He’d had no idea he’d need this tonight, but he was always prepared. At least where condoms were concerned.
He wasn’t sure he was truly prepared for Jocelyn Asher at all.
“Please.” She pressed back when he’d straightened again, her ass against his cock. “Please.”
“Please what?” He ripped the condom packet open, then rolled the thing on one handed. “Tell me what you want.”
He wanted to push her. Just like her letting him swat her ass, he wanted to know what all she’d let him do, how far she’d let him go. How much would she trust him?
“Please. I want you inside me.”
He put his mouth on her ear again as a need to push—and more, a need to see how far she’d trust him—rose inside him. “I want you to ask me to fuck you,” he said, his voice rough. He reached up and took a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He plucked, then pinched.
She moaned, her head falling back against his shoulder.
“Say it, Jocelyn. Tell me you want me to fuck you. That you’ll just stand here, hold on, and take it.”
“Yes.” Her voice was wobbly. “Yes, I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”
A surge of emotion went through him, and he took her hips in both hands. He wasn’t going to try to define that emotion. Or analyze it. At
least not beyond the realization he was in way too deep with this woman already. That he recognized without giving it a single bit of focus. That was a subconscious resignation.
As he positioned himself at her entrance, he vowed to go slow. Yes, he wanted to push, and he’d never been this worked up and she was, after all, begging. But he didn’t want to hurt her.
Of course, she surprised him again. She leaned over, pressing her breasts and cheek to the table, completely at his mercy.
“Damn,” he muttered. It was part oh-damn-I’m-so-screwed-here and part good old-fashioned awe.
He slid into her in one long, slow thrust.
They both groaned. Jocelyn gripped one edge of the table. She couldn’t reach both sides at the same time, but she held on to the one and tucked her other hand underneath her chest. There was something about the sweet pink nail polish on the fingers curling over the edge of the table, hanging on as she was fucked from behind, that was insanely hot.
Grant withdrew and thrust again. She took him easily enough. It was a tight fit, but in a glorious, hand-in-glove way that pulled at his balls, and his restraint. He wanted to pound into her, make the table rock, and make her scream.
Every time he pulled out, her body clenched and clung, not wanting him to go. Every time he sunk deep, she made sounds that made his balls, gut, and even his chest draw tighter.
He ran a hand up and down her back as he thrust, loving the silky feel of her hair over the back of his hand and wrist. He loved the curve of her back and her hips. He loved the color of her skin. He loved the way she went up on tiptoe to take him and the way his name fell easily from her lips.
But he couldn’t hold on for long. Her body was heaven, and her pussy milked him relentlessly.
“Jocelyn, I want you to come again for me,” Grant said through gritted teeth.
“This is so good,” she said.
“It is. Jesus, honey, it is. I can’t last too long.” He thrust deep. “I want you to come on my cock. I want to feel the way you come apart.”
She gave a little groan. “Oh yes. I’m so close.”
He gripped her hips and changed the angle just a bit, hitting more toward the front. Her pussy responded with a tighter clenching, and she said his name breathlessly.
Making Whoopie Page 5
