French Silk(95)

Her fingers curled into the fleshy part of his shoulders and she arched against him. He made a low, erotic sound. His mouth left hers to seek the hollow of her neck. Claire's head fell back as she welcomed the sucking motions of his lips.

He slid his hand down her back, over her bottom, and tilted her higher and closer to him, pushing his erection against her cleft. He lowered one strap of her chemise and bared her breast. He sought the nipple first, closing his lips around it and madly laying it with his tongue. Soft, glad little cries escaped Claire's parted lips until he took them again in a kiss.

The ferocity of the storm was fully upon them now. The fierce wind howled. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked. Rain fell in torrents. Sheets of it were driven beneath the balcony roof to splash against their bare feet. They were mindless of it all.

Until they heard approaching voices.

In order to enjoy the rain, two of the models had decided to take the balcony route to their rooms instead of the interior hallway. Claire pushed Cassidy away and glanced toward the corner of the house, where at any moment the models would appear.

Taking her hand, he stepped into her room and pulled her in behind him. He latched the French doors just as the models rounded the corner, where they paused to watch the storm.

Cassidy backed Claire against the French doors and they became hopelessly entangled in the sheer drapes. Any objections she might have uttered were silenced by his kiss. His tongue entered her mouth and plumbed it seductively. His hands moved beneath her chemise. They felt warm and strong against her derriere as he lifted one of her thighs and propped it on his. His knuckles lightly fanned her pubic hair. Her belly quickened reflexively and she almost cried out. To trap the sound, he covered her mouth with his.

Outside, one of the models said, "It's really coming down. I've never seen lightning like this."

"Shh! You'll wake up Claire."

Claire was fully awake. Every fiber of her body was responding to Cassidy's touch. His fingers separated the lips of her sex; one slipped inside her. With a subtle flexing motion, he extended it fully before gradually retracting it again and again. Claire clutched at him. He ended a torrid kiss and penetrated her eyes with a hot, hard stare while continuing to stroke her.

"We'd better get to bed, too."

"What time's your call?"

"Eight—thirty."

A squeal. "Watch it, it's slippery. I almost fell."

"Rue would shit if you showed up tomorrow with bruises."

Cassidy withdrew his finger and found the distended heart of her sexuality. Round and round he caressed the slippery nubbin. Claire blinked frantically in an attempt to keep her eyes open. Cassidy's image was blurring. She noted that his hair was falling over his brows, that his features were set and tense, and that his eyes were feverish.

Claire was seized by a purling climax. She fought it, but it washed through her like a powerful, intravenous drug. Instant warmth. A jolt of passion. A rush of sublimity.

The models' voices had faded, leaving only the sounds of the storm and the silky rasp of heavy breathing. Cassidy wrapped his arms around her and carried her to the bed, where he laid her down before following with his own body. He removed her chemise, then his hands moved over her flushed breasts. His fingertips lingered on her nipples, and the sensations that concentrated there were so strong, Claire whimpered. He lowered his head and kissed them urgently but tenderly. She grasped handfuls of his hair, knowing she should stop this, but conceding that she might just as well try to stop the pounding rain.

He kissed her belly. Anxiously she murmured, "Cassidy?"

"Shh." He blew gently on her delta of hair.

"Cassidy?"

Disregarding her hesitancy, he scooped her hips in his hands and lifted her against his open mouth. His tongue investigated her sweet, wet center. He flicked it lazily, delved deeply. He nuzzled her affectionately, then kissed her intently, as though sucking the nectar from a piece of luscious fruit. With the tip of his tongue he reawakened that tiny seed of femininity.

The pleasure built until it was unendurable. "Please," she gasped.

He knelt between her thighs and thrust himself into her. His breathing was labored and hot against her neck. She heard him groan, "Oh, Christ. Christ." Then he began to move, stretching and stroking her until she became oblivious to everything except him.

The skin on his back was damp. His muscles rippled beneath her hands. She slid them inside his jeans and cupped his buttocks, drawing him deeper into her. He murmured with pleasure. They kissed. His lips tasted musky and forbidden. She licked them delicately, then greedily.

He gathered the fullness of her breast in his palm and brushed his thumb across the raised center, then lightly roiled it between his fingers. Claire's back arched off the mattress. She caught her breath sharply and spoke his name. The first climax had been only a harbinger. This time when she came she felt like part of a fireworks display. She was showered with fiery sparks and fell through space for what seemed eternity before the final glimmer was extinguished.

Moments later, Cassidy allowed himself to come. He embraced her tightly and filled her ear with erotic messages as she felt his warm, surging release deep inside her.

Replete, they rested, his head lying on the slopes of her breasts, her legs folded around him. Eventually he sat up and peeled off his jeans, then lay back down and gathered her close. Claire snuggled against his naked body.