Asking for Trouble - Leslie Kelly [52]
I had to taste him. Oral sex wasn’t something I’d had a lot of experience with—nor had I particularly cared for it, either—but I suddenly had this compulsion to thoroughly savor the man. Scraping the tip of my tongue across the base of his shaft, I moaned at his hot taste and musky scent. I thought I heard him groaning above me, but I couldn’t focus on that. I could only think about exploring him, licking a path from the very base all the way up to the top of his cock.
Once there, however, I wanted nothing more than to suck deep. Pausing only to lick away a few drops of his body’s glistening moisture, I opened my mouth on him. Knowing by the long shudders ratcheting through his body that he was definitely enjoying it, I sucked the entire silky smooth, bulbous tip between my lips and lathed him with my tongue.
“Holy…Lottie…”
I didn’t stop what I was doing, lowering my mouth, twisting my head so I could take him deeper. I kept one hand on his lean hip, and slid the other along his thigh, then between his legs to cup his most vulnerable spot. He groaned again as I toyed with him, stroking and caressing while I continued to draw him deep into my mouth and then ever so slowly pull away.
When the enamel of the tub grew hard on my knees, I shifted a little. Simon used the moment to take control. Stepping away, he stripped off the rest of his clothes.
“You are absolutely perfect,” I whispered hoarsely, meaning it when I saw his entire body for the first time. His strong legs were as muscular and toned as the rest of him. And his sex jutted out in bold male determination.
“Lie back,” he ordered, staring at me from above.
I did. “Are you going to join me?” I asked as I slid back in the water, extending my legs out in front of me.
“Not yet.”
Dropping a hand into the water, he gently pushed me until I was reclining against the curved end of the tub. Pulling a small, decorative bench out from under the window, he moved it behind the tub and sat down behind me. If I put my head back, it would be resting right on his erection.
I put my head back.
Simon didn’t protest, but merely leaned over to place both hands on my shoulders, slowly kneading and massaging my body.
I almost purred at the strength of his touch as all my tension and worries disappeared. Sighing at the pleasure of it, I turned my head and lazily kissed the inside of his strong thigh.
My body was slick with the bubbles and his hands skimmed easily over my skin. But they didn’t go quite where I wanted them. “Please,” I whispered, knowing he knew what I wanted.
He did. He flattened his palms on my shoulders, then slowly moved farther down until they scraped over the tops of my breasts, which protruded from the top of the water. Taking them in his hands, he whispered something, low and guttural. Something that sounded like, “Perfect.”
Yes. That described this moment. Perfect. With his hands on me, his muscular thigh brushing my cheek, the steam rising from the tub and the smell of vanilla blending with the hot scent of this man’s skin, I was completely inundated by sensual pleasure.
He seemed to instantly know when I needed more. Because just at the moment I was ready to scream for him to increase the pressure—to stop the teasing, feather-light brushes of his fingertips against my nipples—he gave me what I hadn’t even had to ask for. Catching the sensitive tips of my breasts between his fingers, he rolled them, toying with them until spasms of pleasure washed from there straight down my body. Beneath the water, my toes curled. My thighs quivered. My hips bucked.
An instant later, he bent farther and covered one breast with his mouth, sucking hard, sucking deep.
“Oh, yes,” I groaned, wrapping the fingers of one hand in his hair. Raising my other arm, I draped it behind me, so it rested on Simon’s strong shoulder. I dug into his muscular skin, squeezing and scratching as he pleasured me.
The position apparently wasn’t close enough for either of us. Without a word, Simon gently slid away, careful of my head and hair.