Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(83)

Oui, ma petite, it’s Rock making you feel so good, so hot, making you burn from the inside out.

And then she did it again, astounded him and left him breathless all at the same time, because she hooked a finger under his chin, forcing him to release her delicious nipple and stare up into her pretty face. “Richard,” that name went through him like a lightning strike, “I said, lose the jeans.”

And, boy howdy, in the next second you better believe he set the world record for shucking britches.

***

Two things woke Vanessa.

One was the fact that, despite the glowing numbers on the clock reading oh-nine-hundred in the morning, it was pitch dark inside Rock’s bedroom. At some point, he must’ve inadvertently switched off the bathroom light which had been burning during all three—yes, count them, three, and the last time in the shower should really count twice—of the absolutely delicious lovemaking sessions they’d indulged in. The man was a veritable prodigy. They’d done it every which way imaginable and a couple she’d never even dreamed of.

Who knew turning her head toward the foot of the bed and hooking her heels over the headboard while Rock straddled her and stroked into her would result in her thighs squeezing together, which, in turn, allowed his penis to rub…Just. The. Right. Spot?

And that brought her around to the second thing to wake her…

The feel of Rock’s erection, hot and pulsing against her hip.

She grinned into the darkness and turned toward him, reaching down to palm the smooth, warm length of him. And he was awake instantly, the steady cadence of his breathing coming to a sudden stop.

“Oh, shit,” he said.

“Not exactly the response I was hoping for,” she frowned, stilling her hand.

“Non, non, chere. Not that. I was talkin’ about the light. I didn’t mean to switch it off. It’s just habit.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, stroking him again and loving the way his hips thrust up into her hand and the way he sucked in a harsh breath. “After that conversation we had in the jungle,” stroke, twist, stroke, “I’m not afraid anymore. Funny how easy it was to overcome once I actually knew the root of the issue.”

“I’m so glad.” His sleepy voice was a warm tongue licking up her spine.

And she couldn’t stand it. She had to kiss him. But morning breath was always an issue, so she satisfied herself with leaning forward to place tender kisses up the column of his warm neck and back farther, to his ear.

Stroke, twist, stroke. She kept up the rhythm she’d learned would shoot him to the moon as she sucked his lobe between her teeth, licking it softly.

“Mmm,” he said, and she smiled because she’d rendered him speechless. Or so she thought, because in the next second he said in that low, rumbly voice of his, “Climb up here, ma petite.”

“Condom?”

“Hmm, mmm,” he murmured. “I want to use my mouth on you.”

And despite herself, despite the numerous things they’d done together, done to each other, that request had heat climbing into her cheeks. Because it was such a vulnerable position to be in, vulnerable and powerful all at the same time. But she trusted Rock like she’d never trusted any man. And, more than that, she wanted to please him, to make him understand how good they could be together, how good they already were together.

She kicked away the covers and pushed to her knees. Throwing a leg over him, banging her knee—ow—on the headboard in the process, she straddled his wide shoulders. Then she wasn’t thinking about her poor knee at all. Because he said, “Turn around.”

“Turn around…? Oh.” Oh!

She felt herself flush, but she did as instructed. He used both hands to palm her bottom, and the next second his hot breath feathered over her.

Wet.

She was instantly wet and aching.

And then wet and aching didn’t begin to describe what she was feeling when his hot, agile tongue speared into her. And when he growled, low and throaty…Oh, the vibration!

She nearly lost it.

But this was supposed to be about give and take, what’s good for the goose being good for the gander and all that jazz. So she bent, supporting herself with one hand while she grabbed hold of him, sucking his length into her mouth.

He tasted salty and male. He smelled like sex.

She was instantly on the precipice. And when he dipped his chin and caught her swollen clitoris between his soft lips, flicking it gently with his tongue, she knew she didn’t have long. So with her mouth and her hand she did that “thing” he appeared to like so much.

And her reward? The swift upward thrust of his hips.

Oh, yeah…

And, just as she’d come to expect, the man didn’t disappoint. He shoved a thumb inside her, laved at the aching bundle of nerves at the top of her sex, and when she began to tighten around him, she felt him jerk in her hand, felt him pulse. Hard.

And then he was falling over the edge. They both were. And it was sensual as hell, sexy as sin, the world shrinking down to just the two of them. Locked together. Giving pleasure and receiving it. The sights and sounds and tastes of completion melding together into one giant kaleidoscope of unbelievable sensation.

For long moments afterward, they remained like that, mouths on each other, breath shuddering from their lungs. Then Rock smacked her ass and she sat up, turning to glare at him. Which was silly, since she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.