Love on Beach Avenue(77)
His stomach muscles tightened. “I work out an hour a day. Weights and cardio. It’s in my schedule to avoid back and muscle issues from a repetitive-motion career.”
God, he was nerdy. Adorable. And sexy as hell.
“That’s hot,” she breathed out, running her tongue over the same intriguing line she’d traced with her fingers. She cupped his hard length, squeezing him with the fabric barrier, and only when he groaned and thrust into her hands did she begin to peel off his underwear.
It was time to make him beg.
She lowered her head and took him into her mouth. He hissed her name into the air, and his fingers tangled into her curls. She used her hands to stroke while she sucked him hard, her tongue running up and down the underside of his swollen shaft, relishing the power of his need and the musky taste of him. She hummed low to give him the slight vibration of her throat, and with a vicious curse, he suddenly loomed up, grasped her hips, and flipped her back over on the mattress. His face reflected the primitive aura of a man pushed to the edge, and she panted for breath as he grabbed the condom from the side table, tore the package open, and sheathed himself.
She parted her legs wide, half-crazed with the need to feel him inside her. Dropping a kiss to her inner thigh, he lined his shaft up, his gaze hot on hers. He lifted his hips and pushed inside her. Inch by slow inch, the sweet invasion stole her breath, filling every part of empty space in her body and her heart. When he was buried to the hilt, he lifted her legs onto his shoulders. Silver-blue eyes glinted with satisfaction.
“Hold on, sweetheart.”
In one swift motion, he pulled out and slammed back into her. She gasped, and her fingers clawed for purchase, caught between pushing him away and pulling him close. Buried deep, he paused to allow her to adjust to his size and girth, her breath coming out in choppy pants.
And with a slow smile, he did it again. And again.
Avery arched her head into the pillow as her body tightened and pulsed, all her focus sharpened on the empty, hungry ache that rose up in torturous waves. Her toes curled, and he kept hitting some magic spot that shot sensation straight to her clit and heated the blood in her veins to lava. His fingers began to pluck and play, and his hips rolled with each thrust, harder and harder. Squirming helplessly beneath him, she called out his name, the blistering need for release twisting through her.
“So good,” he murmured, watching her face as he rubbed the throbbing bundle of nerves in too-light strokes. “God, I can’t get enough of you.”
Another deep plunge, scraping her clit just right and pulling a scream from her lips. “Carter. Please!”
His face tightened, as if he were struggling to hold his control. “More, sweetheart? Tell me.”
“Yes, I need you. Please—”
With a roar of satisfaction, he lifted her higher and thrust inside her one last time. Then rubbed her clit.
The climax rolled over her and bit deep, throwing her muscles into mini-convulsions as the sheer pleasure exploded and burned through her entire body. Practically sobbing his name, she heard his low shout as he followed her over, his hips jerking helplessly.
Dazed and feeling half-drunk, she collapsed underneath him, and he rolled off her body. “Be right back,” he whispered.
She heard him in the bathroom, and then he returned, slipping under the covers and pulling her tight against him. She cuddled into his chest, enjoying the feel of his sleek, damp skin, the scent of spice and sex lingering in the air, the heated cord of muscles tangled with her softness.
“You okay?” he asked.
She gave a small sigh. “Not really.”
He tensed. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, but I lost the bet. I begged.”
His laugh made her smile, and he tugged playfully at her curls. “I’m gonna call this one a draw, sweetheart. I say we’re both losers . . . and winners.”
“No wonder I love you—” She broke off, horrified by the words that had slipped off her tongue. “Oh my God! I didn’t mean that, I just wasn’t thinking. Holy crap, I’m sorry. I meant to say, um, I didn’t—”
He shushed her with his lips over hers, kissing her thoroughly until her mind was mush and any logical words disappeared. She blinked up at him, his pewter eyes full of amusement and an intense emotion she didn’t want to name. “I know what you meant. Now stop worrying and go to sleep. It won’t be long before round two.”
“Oh. Oh! Wow, I didn’t know men your age could go again so soon. I—” She stopped short. And groaned. “I didn’t mean that, either.”
“Go to sleep, Avery. I’ll meet your second challenge in a bit.”
She wanted to hear more or argue, but exhaustion overtook her. With a happy sigh, she snuggled closer and did what he’d ordered.
She slept.
Head mashed into the pillow, she woke slowly through layers of sleep. The soft slide of lips trailing over her spine made her shiver, and she moaned, stretching under the glorious sensations of fingers stroking the back of her thighs and a hot tongue licking at the top of her buttocks. Already wet and achy, she tried to roll over, but he kept her pinned, tormenting her with his hands and lips and teeth.
He squeezed her ass, nipped at the curves, and slipped his fingers inside her dripping heat.
She bucked upward, needing more.
He gave a low laugh and tugged her hips up, kicking open her legs. Bracing her palms on the mattress, she heard the rip of the wrapper, and then he surged inside her, his hands cupping her heavy breasts, his muscled chest pressed to her back. She swayed back and forth, pushing against each of his slow, deep thrusts, and let him lead her straight to the edge, hovering at the drop-off. Her body tightened, poised on the brink of explosion, and then his hands slipped down her belly to rub back and forth, quickening his thrusts. She came, milking him tight, caught in the storm of her third orgasm. His fingers dug into her hips, and she felt his release, the groan of her name sweet and raw against her ears.