One Wild Wedding Night_ Runaway - Leslie Kelly [8]
She arched back, wanting more, and he gave it to her. Tugging the lacy bra away, he swiped his tongue across her puckered nipple. She jerked in response, grinding against him, finally removing that last inch of space between them.
The heat of her eliminated any remaining patience Slone had. Thrusting against her, he mimicked the way he’d soon be pounding into her tight, wet channel. She gasped and rode him, gliding up and down his rock-hard erection, making mewling little sounds of pleasure as she took what she needed.
“Get out of this,” he ordered, pushing the bra down. He barely noticed her complying as she reached around to unfasten the bra. He was much too busy catching the lush curves in his hands, squeezing them and bringing them to his lips. Sucking hard on one nipple, he was rewarded by one more spasmodic jerk and then an audible cry.
Slone looked up, shocked to see the blonde’s head thrown back, her face flushed, her mouth opening on several tiny gasps. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d just…
“Oh, how I needed that,” she muttered, finally opening her eyes and staring down at him. Her breathing remained ragged, her pulse fluttering visibly in her throat. Finally, she smiled. “A few more of those and you will absolutely have paid in full.”
God. She had just…. Either that, or she was good at faking it. Of course, she would be, given her profession. Slone thrust that thought away. He knew how to pleasure a woman. Just because she had sex a lot didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy it.
Leah would enjoy it. He’d make damn sure of it.
Knowing now that she was capable of gaining real pleasure and feeling almost challenged to ensure she continued to, Slone forced himself to slow down. His frantic caresses and strokes became slow ones. He teased her nipples, kissing his way around them but not giving her the hard suction he knew she wanted. And all the while she squirmed on his lap, trying to push her dress—now gathered at her waist—off her body.
Finally, as if knowing he wouldn’t relent, she went to work on him. “You don’t look very comfortable,” she murmured. She tugged his tie free, then undid the remaining buttons of his shirt. When she pushed it off his shoulders, she leaned back and stared at him. “Good Lord, you are amazing.”
He almost smiled at her candor, unused to such openness. She seemed to genuinely delight in touching him, kissing his neck, wrapping her hands in his hair. Finally, when she reached for his belt and worked it open, then unbuttoned his trousers, Slone knew they were both ready for a much deeper connection. If she kept her hands down there, he’d lose precious minutes of having his cock where he most wanted it to be.
“Undress.” He scooted her back to help her.
“About time. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to just slide into me through the velvet.”
“That sounds…interesting,” he murmured, watching her intently as she moved off his lap and pushed the dress down over her curvy hips, then past a set of pale, slender thighs encased in those silky, thigh-high stockings, until she wore just a tiny pair of lacy pink panties.
The car rocked. Or at least his insides did.
“But I think latex would probably be more appropriate,” she said, reaching for her handbag. She plucked a condom from it.
Obviously, the professional came prepared.
The sight of it in her hands—and the knowledge that soon it would be the only thing separating his sex from hers—made him even harder, his cock swelling out of his unbuttoned pants.
She noticed. Hell, a blind nun would have noticed. Widening her eyes, she licked her lips. “Oh, my goodness,” she murmured, sounding adorably innocent. And suddenly looking very young.
That gave him pause. “How old are you?”
Her eyes glued to his crotch, she replied, “Twenty-two.”
Old enough. Not quite his twenty-seven, but old enough.
Leah slid off him completely, moving to the other seat. With the skill of a temptress, she caressed her body in a slow stroke until her fingertips rested on the hem of one stocking.
“Leave