"I like pink, too," he said, his expression wholly masculine.
"You're making me blush." It felt as if he was touching her with his eyes.
"Mmm." An utterly sexual, utterly content sound.
She felt every sense in her bow in surrender. Sure the wetness between her thighs must be embarrassing by now, she clenched her body in a futile effort to control her need. Clay's fingers spread her open again and she felt the impact of that touch to her toes. She dug them into the cushions, but Clay had other ideas. Lifting one leg at a time, he put both over his shoulders - after pressing nibbling kisses along the inner thighs.
"You," she managed to say hoarsely, "are a very bad kitty cat." That made him laugh, his breath stroking her exposed folds. She moaned, anticipation racing along her skin, burning with hot, sweet hunger.
"Meow." His tongue flicked over her parted flesh. "I love cream, too."
Anticipation turned into the most extreme pleasure. Again, she dug her fingers into the fabric of the cushion, but it was no use. There was no way she could control this. Not when he was licking at her with those quick, catlike flicks that were driving her certifiably insane. "Harder," she found herself whispering, shocked at her own daring.
"Not yet." Another flick. Another moan. "I want to make you a little crazier first."
"Bully." It was a gasp.
That clever, clever tongue was doing things to her she had never believed possible. She found herself pressing closer, begging him with her body, her thighs tight around him, her heels digging into his back. Then he bit her.
She made a sharp, shocked sound before the world exploded around her. The pleasure was so raw, so rich, so acute, it blasted through her body with the strength of a supernova, leaving her quivering in its wake. If she could've found the willpower to speak, the brain cells to construct thought, she would've told Clay he was a god. It was a good thing she was too wiped out or he would have never let her forget it.
His hands slid under her bottom, fondling and squeezing as he continued to lap at her. She was fairly certain that that last incredible orgasm had wiped her out, but it felt so nice she didn't ask him to stop. A minute later, it felt better than nice. It felt exquisite. She heard a low, husky moan and it took her several seconds to realize the unashamedly sensual sound had come from her own throat. "I am so greedy."
He looked up, eyes glittering with arousal. "Don't worry, I'm keeping score."
The eye contact was exhilarating, rocking her to the soul. "Do I get to lick you?"
His hands tightened convulsively on her flesh, his expression promising retaliation. "Do you want to?"
It was an act she'd never willingly performed. But there was a deep curiosity in her about the taste of this man who made her feel like the sexiest thing on this planet. "Maybe." She stretched, ran her tongue along her upper lip. "Depends how far in debt I am."
Her provocation had the desired effect. His head dipped and he wasn't lapping now. He was kissing her in earnest, destroying any puny defenses she might've had.
She got into a lot more debt before he was finished.
"Embarrassing and undignified?" he asked as he kissed his way up her trembling body.
Her face flushed at the reminder of how she'd once described the luscious thing he had just done to her. "I think it's growing on me."
"Good. Because I like the taste of you." His voice was rough.
She glanced down his body, saw the arousal shoving at his jeans. "Take them off." Her hands went to the waistband and she found the first button already undone.
"Careful," he whispered in her ear as she began to lower the zipper. It caught on something. "Jesus, Tally."
She kissed his chest. "It's only your underwear. Don't be a baby." A second later, the zipper was undone and she was sliding her hand into that underwear and finding him, hot, hard, and oh-so-aroused.
He seemed to stop breathing as she closed her hand into a small fist. "You're so big." He would fill her up, take her over.
"Remember that," he groaned. "And tell everyone you know."
It made her want to laugh, except that her body was starving of this hunger that had been a lifetime in the making and all she wanted was to see him. She released him, to the accompaniment of his complaining groan. "Take off your clothes." She began to push at his jeans, exposing the erotic line of his hip bones.
He kissed her before rising in a smooth catlike move and disposing of his clothing in what amounted to seconds. Then he was coming down on her again and in the light, his body was pure male animal, his skin molding to muscle, his body heavy with arousal.
He settled between her thighs, making room for himself by spreading her legs wider. She cooperated. But she wasn't ready to surrender yet. Not giving him warning, she slid her hand between their bodies and gripped him once more. He groaned, his back arching, the tendons on his neck standing out in vivid relief.
Raising her head, she kissed him at the base of his neck before lying back down, her hand fisted around him. He shuddered, dropped his head. "You can play later."
She ran her fisted hand up and down the straining length of him, pushing her own arousal to the limit even as she pushed him. To her delight, he didn't rush her, though his eyes warned that she was about to push him too far. It only made her hotter. To be in bed with a man she trusted this much was a revelation. "I adore you."
He groaned. "Tally."
Her hunger spiked and when he tugged off her hand, she didn't fight him. He was nudging at her a second later. She gripped his shoulders, drew the scent of him into her lungs, and waited. He nudged the tip of his erection into her and every nerve in her body went haywire. He was so hard, she was buttery soft. It was perfect - if he'd move. She tried to rock forward but he held her in place.