Chirp(53)

Thunder rumbled overhead and rain hammered the roof. She ran her hands under his shirt, feeling muscle and bone. “Your clothes are wet. Take them off.”

“You do it.”

She pressed closer and unbuttoned his jeans. He toed out of his boots and let the Levi’s drop to the floor.

He’d gone commando and already had an erection. He was as magnificent as the Greek bronze warriors she’d seen at the Museo Nazionale della Magna Grecia in Italy when she was nine.

Dropping to his knees, he reached for his jeans. “Damn. I didn’t get my wallet. I don’t have a condom.”

“Any chance you have an STD?”

“No.”

“Okay.” She shimmied out of her pj’s and panties, then kissed him again.

He pulled her onto his lap. She clutched his shoulders for support. Her skin caught fire, and her nipples tightened. An ache settled between her legs. She leaned away.

“Second thoughts?” he asked.

“No.” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and tore it off.

He tortured one peaked nipple with his tongue, and she shivered.

With perfect precision, he slipped a finger inside her. Then two.

“Oh, Chirp, you’re ready for me. So fucking wet.”

And she was. It’d be different this time. She wasn’t a virgin anymore, and she had one encounter under her belt. No man had ever talked to her like this, and the rasp of his voice made her blood heat. And as it raced through her veins, it set every part of her on fire. She rocked against him, adjusting her body to get his fingers in the right spot, and when she did, a whimper escaped before she could stop it. He worked her. In and out. Around and around, driving her to madness. And when the orgasm struck with such force, she panted his name.

He started to withdraw, but she put her hand over his. “Not yet.” She moved against him again, and within seconds another climax shook her. Deeper this time. She buried her face in the hollow of his neck and sobbed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

He eased her onto the hay and lay next to her, taking her mouth again. “It’s okay. I imagine back-to-back orgasms can do that to a girl.” He chuckled, a low, mellow tone that caused her toes to curl and raised goose bumps everywhere.

“Now, where were we?” He rolled to all fours and hovered above her, then ran his tongue between her breasts. This had to be a dream, but when he scraped his teeth over her skin, she squealed. Not a dream.

He trailed his way down to her stomach, where he flicked the silver heart dangling from her belly button back and forth with his tongue. “Sexy.”

“Thank you.”

He laughed out loud, his hot breath spreading across her skin as he moved lower, and she rose to her elbows. “What are you doing?”

He flashed her a wicked smile. “Your word for today is cunnilingus. It means dine at the Y. Eat a peach. Tongue fuck.”

“Stop talking. I know what it means.”

He laughed harder. “Yeah, well I’m about to give you a new appreciation of vocabulary.”

She went perfectly still. The thought of his tongue—there—turned her bones to ash. But she’d agreed to let him be in charge. And then he hit home with his first stroke. She dug both hands into the hay and lost herself in the passion. Everything faded away except the roaring in her head. She writhed against him, feeling every delicious lash. Over and over again until she came undone.

He kissed his way back up her body and placed his lips next to her ear. “Now, let’s hear you use that in a sentence.”

She gasped for breath.

“Come on. You’re about to get the main event, but not until I hear you use the word. So make it a good one.”

Her whole body shook, and she thought she might have a coronary. But if she was going to die, she wanted it to be in his arms. “Okay. Rance is good at cunnilingus.”

She loved how his lip quirked up at the corner when he fought a smile. “Not your best work, but I’ll give you a pass.”

“Thank you.”

He nudged her thighs apart with his knee and leaned next to her ear again to whisper, “And, no, I’m not brushing my teeth again. It turns me on to know you’ll taste your own juice.”

“Why do you have to talk so nasty?”

“Because you like it.”

She should be repulsed. But she wasn’t. Not by a long shot. He was right. She loved every filthy word. She kissed him with a fierceness she didn’t recognize.

He deepened the kiss, and the dirty dance of his tongue made her think of where it’d been and the pleasure it’d caused. She licked inside his mouth, and when they parted, he laughed. “I thought so. Open your eyes.” He slid inside her. A little at first, then more. “Oh yeah. Slick and tight.”

Before he moved again, he raised his brows as if to ask if she was okay. She bit her bottom lip and said, “More, please.”

There was that wicked grin. “Oh, baby. So polite.”

Then he gave her more, and she responded by arching up to bring him closer. Deeper. She heaved the word out. “More.”

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No.”

“Good, because you feel so fucking good, Chirp.” He thrust harder.