His hands traced a warm path on her back, making her tremble. When he reached her ass, he cupped her cheeks and groaned. Then she felt a whoosh of air between her legs, his warm breath as he blew. Oh God, what was he doing to her? She was throbbing between her legs, hot and damp and absolutely aching for him. His fingers curled into the band of her panties. He inched them over her cheeks, down her thighs, to her knees. She started to step out of them, but he grasped her ankles firmly in place, a reminder that he was in charge. He left the panties at her ankles.
“Stay like that. I want to look at you.”
She didn’t move. The image of him, naked, erect, and so fucking handsome as he stared at her body turned her insides molten. She was so aroused she could feel a bead of wetness slide down her thigh.
For the briefest of moments, she was embarrassed, but any worries were quelled by Nate. Or more precisely, by his mouth that captured that drop on his tongue. She gasped at the feel of his lips on the inside of her legs, and then again at the realization that he’d been watching her so closely that he saw everything, every response in her body.
“You taste so good,” he murmured as he licked her thighs. He pressed a palm on the inside of each leg, and gently guided her to a wider stance. “More. Spread them more and raise your ass higher,” he told her, and she bent lower, leaving herself completely open to him. Shoes on, panties at her ankles, not a stitch of clothing covering her body. Turned on beyond any and all reason.
She cried out. His tongue. Oh God, he’d flicked his tongue once against her clit, and then stopped, and she was dying for more.
“I need more of you in my face,” he said, and it was half a command, and half him simply giving a play by play as he took the matter into his own hands, using his thumbs to spread her open for him. “Perfect,” he said, then returned to her heat, pressing his lips to her and diving in. Her vision went fuzzy. Her world turned into a black and silver blur. The feel of his mouth was breathtaking, and in an instant pleasure engulfed her body. The sweet oblivion of desire radiated throughout her entire being as he licked her like a ravenous man.
“So fucking delicious,” he whispered as he flicked his tongue against her swollen clit. She moaned so loudly she was sure someone would hear if they were anyplace but a hotel with soundproof walls designed for this kind of play.
His lips were soft, his tongue was divine, and he ate her pussy like he’d never had anything he wanted so much. Pleasure forked inside her, spinning from her belly to the tips of her fingers. He gripped her hips harder, holding her firmly in place, restraining her with his big hands as he consumed her wetness. He lapped up every drop of her, sending her spiraling into such a state of bliss that all she wanted was to come. The pressure built to a crescendo. She wanted to crash on through to the other side.
“Oh God, Nate,” she cried out. “I’m so—“
He cut her off. “You’re so close, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, aware somewhere in her mind that this was part of the control. That he was in charge of everything.
“Work for it,” he said, then returned to her pussy, licking, teasing, but still resisting that final push.
She rocked back into him, desperate. “Please. Please, give me more.”
Another lick. Another deep, consuming kiss. She was so damn close to ecstasy.
“Please,” she cried out, desperately seeking orgasm.
“Please what?” he said on a quick pause.
“Please, don’t stop.”
“I like that you said please. Now be as loud as you want. I’m not going to stop ’til you’re coming on my lips.”
She moaned and lifted her hips higher, dropping down onto her elbows, giving him all the access he needed, making herself one hundred percent vulnerable. Giving in to him. Handing over all her control.
“I’m so close. Oh God, it’s so good.”
He licked and kissed her in a heated frenzy, his own moans so damn sexy that his sounds of pleasure set her off.
She shouted his name.
Her body detonated. Her climax swept through her, crashing over every square inch of her mind and body. She panted and moaned, and practically sang out with joy from the sheer intensity. She didn’t think it would ever stop as wave after wave spread through her, bathing her in ecstasy. He slowed as the orgasm ebbed away, giving her one final sweet kiss before he rose, pulled her gently up on the bed, and wrapped his arms around her, spooning her.
She brushed her hair away from her face, her bones still humming, her body awash in the afterglow. “Wow.”
He kissed the back of her neck, and she turned to meet his gaze. He looked, quite simply, happy.
“That was . . .”
“. . . amazing.”
She trailed her finger along his stubble. “Are we going to have sex now?”
He shook his head, and she dropped her jaw in surprise.
“But I thought—”
He cut her off. “I want to. I want nothing more than to take you. But waiting for it is part of letting go.”
* * *
That was true. It was completely true. If she wanted to learn to give up control, he had to withhold. But that wasn’t the only reason he planned to wait for another time.
Because it ensured another time.
CHAPTER SIX
35,000 feet, midday . . .
The black, white and brown beagle mix wagged its tail at his feet.
“No more begging, buddy. Back to your seat,” Nate said, pointing to one of the back rows in the plane where a year-old French Bulldog, a middle-aged Terrier, and some kind of Dachshund-mix lounged on a blanket spread across the seats. The Dachshund had been particularly well-behaved and Nate was thrilled for that, given the home that was picked out for him.
The Beagle didn’t listen. He kept wagging his tail, waiting for scraps from the chicken salad that had been served for lunch. Nate was sorely tempted to feed the little guy, especially when that tail started thumping wildly on the carpeted floor of the plane. But the dog would be better off in his new home if Nate didn’t indulge him in bad habits now.
“C’mon. Time to get back to the pack,” he said gently, gesturing once more to the dog’s companions.
“Psst,” Casey whispered, tapping his shoulder. “I think he might not understand English yet.”
Nate laughed, set down his nearly empty plate on the lacquered brown table, then scooped up the dog and carried him to the rear of the plane where a row of cushy seats had become the temporary quarters for the hounds on the flight. “Go back to sleep with your friends,” he said, gesturing to the other four-legged creatures who’d been conked out most of the ride. He stroked the dog between the ears and scratched his chin ’til he settled, curling up in a tight ball. The canine quartet of traveling companions was hitching a ride on his flight on their way to New York. The local shelter in New Orleans didn’t have room for all the dogs, and had made plans with a no-kill rescue in Brooklyn that had already matched these four pets with homes in the metro area, since New Yorkers often preferred smaller breeds. Nate was an animal lover and had grown up with dogs, so he regularly arranged to be an “escort” for animals in need, ferrying them from various locales around the country back to the Brooklyn shelter that served as the matchmaker.