Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(54)

“It’s really happening. But tell me what I do in your fantasy.”

“You crawl toward me wearing nothing but that pageant crown and put your mouth on my cock.”

“Well, I don’t have a crown, but I can make the rest happen.” I smiled seductively and licked my lips. “Come here.”

He got onto the bed, but when he attempted to pull me into his arms, I pushed against his chest.

“Lie back.”

He obeyed, falling to his elbows. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

“I don’t know.” I leaned over, bracing a hand on either side of his torso, and pressed my lips to his stomach. His skin was thin there, and warm, and the muscles beneath it were hard and firm. My breath made them quiver.

I shook my head slowly, brushing my mouth back and forth over his skin. I heard him inhale, felt his hands in my hair, gathering it at the back of my head. I sensed his eyes on me.

“I like it. Whatever it is.” His voice was quiet and held no trace of the usual teasing tone.

I glanced up at him briefly, curious if he was smiling. He wasn’t—in fact, he looked so serious, his face was almost unfamiliar. But still gorgeous, and even more intriguing with his eyes on me that way, like he wasn’t sure who I was either. “I guess I just want to thank you for dinner.”

That made him crack a grin. “Yeah? Gas station spaghetti puts you in the mood, huh?”

“It wasn’t the spaghetti.” I moved my mouth down one side of his rib cage, toward the erection that was thickening between his legs. Without touching it, I licked my way up one side of the V, from the top of his thigh to his hip.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed as I moved to the other side and did the same thing. “Then was it the snow?”

I laughed before circling his belly button with my tongue. “No.”

“You just—really love knotty pine?” He faltered mid-sentence, probably because I began nipping at the tip of his cock with my lips.

“Never been a big fan, actually.” I hesitated. “Although I might look at it differently now.” I licked him from the base of his shaft all the way to the top in one broad, slow stroke.

“Same. I’m gonna get a big fucking hard-on—in my great-grandma’s basement—every Christmas.” He struggled for words as I took his length in one hand and swirled my tongue around the crown, tasting him for the first time. He groaned, his fingers tightened in my hair. “Christ. You gotta tell me—what I—did.”

I paused what I was doing. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.” He was breathing hard. “But you can keep it brief.”

Giggling again, I took the tip in my mouth and sucked gently. “You told me the truth.”

“The truth about what?”

“About not pulling my name from the hat. About why you didn’t kiss me. About wanting a chance with me but thinking you’d never get one.” With each example, I stroked his cock with my tongue. “About why you came back here. About the offer for the new show.” I glanced up at him. “And for calling me the unattainable girl of your dreams.”

“It’s true,” he said seriously. “It’s all fucking true.”

“Well, it was.” I lowered my head, taking him in deep, then kept my lips tight around him as I slowly lifted it. “I think you might have to revise that post-blizzard. I believe you have attained me several times.”

“I’d like to attain you again before it’s over,” he said, groaning as I took him to the back of my throat once more.

And then he lost the ability to speak in sentences, but communicated plenty with curse words hissed through a clenched jaw and long, drawn-out moans, his fists in my hair and his abs rippling as his hips flexed. I used both my hands, working them up and down his solid length as I sucked and stroked him.

At one point, he pulled my hair so hard it hurt, and I gasped.

“Sorry,” he panted, “but you should consider this a warning. I’m about to come.”

“Good.” I went right back to what I was doing, and quickly discovered he hadn’t been exaggerating—in less than fifteen seconds, his body went stiff, his breathing stopped, and his cock got even harder before it throbbed rhythmically between my lips, a hot stream pulsing against the back of my throat.

Pleased with myself, I sat back on my heels and wiped my mouth with my wrist.

Gianni’s eyes were closed, his mouth open. His arms rested limply at his sides, his chest rose and fell with labored breaths.

“Are you okay?” I teased.

“No.” His eyes opened and he lunged for me, and I squealed as he tossed me beneath him sideways across the bed.

“Aren’t you tired?” I asked as he buried his face in my neck and kissed my throat.

“Nope.” His mouth traveled down my chest and he stroked my nipple with his tongue before sucking it greedily. “I do need a little recovery time, but I have plenty of ideas about how to fill it.” He tugged my underwear off and put his head between my thighs.

Turns out, he didn’t need that much recovery time, which suited me just fine, because he made me come so fast with his fingers and tongue.

“Let me do it this time,” I said when he jumped out of bed to get the condom.