A Silken Thread - Brenda Jackson [59]
In her expression he saw how what he’d just done affected her. How it had increased her breathing, made the dark nipples on her breasts pucker that much harder. And when his gaze shifted downward and he saw the dewy curls between her legs he felt his erection harden that much more.
Her hair was in disarray around her shoulders and she stared at him with dark eyes glazed with desire. She looked like a sexy vixen that needed just what he had in store for her.
Since he had her full attention, he thought he would make it worth her while. He took a step away from the bed and removed his shoes and socks, his tie and shirt. When his hand went to his zipper, he saw her eyes shift downward and he couldn’t help but smile. She reminded him of a kid on Christmas, eager to unwrap her next present.
He began lowering his zipper and heard her sharp intake of breath.
“Need help?” she asked in a voice whose vibrations caressed his skin.
“Think you can?”
She shrugged a pair of gorgeous naked shoulders and her nipples seemed to tighten even more. “We’ll never know if I don’t try, will we?”
No, they wouldn’t. But her attempt just might kill him. He was walking on the edge already and it wouldn’t take much to push him over. But he was game if she was. “Yes, come give me some help.”
She smiled and scooted across the bed toward him and he had a feeling she was about to give him a lot more than help. She proved him right when she took things over, pushed his hand out of the way and pulled down his zipper to claim what she wanted.
He felt the warmth of her fingers the moment she touched his flesh and when she pulled his erection from his briefs, he drew in his breath at the sensations overtaking him.
“Nice.”
He glanced down and saw she was giving his throbbing member one hell of a look-over. But as he watched her lick her lips he had a feeling looking wasn’t all she planned to do.
She began massaging him and he threw his head back and closed his eyes. Her hands felt heavenly on him and her fingertips rubbing across the sensitive flesh of his head almost made him come.
When he suddenly felt her mouth on him he snapped open his eyes and glanced downward. Hell! He moaned loudly when she began working him with her tongue and teeth. It felt better than good. It felt so out of this world he figured he had to be on another planet.
But he knew he was here, in Chicago, at the Hilton Hotel in room 1234, while April, the woman he’d had the hots for most of his life, had his throbbing member in her mouth and having a damn field day with it. The more he moaned the harder she went at it, exerting more pressure, delivering more pleasure and making him groan her name one syllable at a time.
And when he felt himself about ready to explode he tried to pull out of her mouth but her lips clamped down on him and with precise, accurate meticulousness she tightened her hold on him and he felt himself being pulled deeper down her throat.
“April!”
What took place next was like a dream come true. A very, hot enticing dream that he didn’t want to end. He shuddered to completion while she maintained possession of his shaft, determined to get the last drop.
When she released him he should have been ready to collapse on the floor but he wasn’t. Instead of draining him, what she’d just done sent his testosterone level blasting and the only thing he could think about was returning the favor.
Before she could do any more enjoyable damage, he tumbled her backward in the bed and before she could straighten her position, he was there with his head between her legs, invading her womanly folds with his tongue and lavishing nonstop attention to her clit. He had gotten a sample of her taste earlier, but it couldn’t compare to this and he gobbled her up like she was his last meal. She moaned and tried pushing him away, and then within a heartbeat she tried holding him there to her.