Grave Phantoms (Roaring Twenties #3)(68)

“Yes, yes. I know what you meant. This is the first time that’s happened for me with anyone else, and was . . . marvelous.” She sounded inane and a little drunk, but she didn’t care. Nothing felt this good. Nothing at all.

She felt his smile against her hair.

“Don’t get cocky,” she said, curling her toes around his feet.

“Too late.” He forced her to look up at his face and squinted down at her with heavy-lidded eyes. His smile was dazzling. “You were loud.”

“Oh God.” She tried to hide her face, but he wouldn’t let her.

“I knew you would be—when I imagined us together. I hoped you would be.” His hand smoothed over the skin down her back.

“You were loud, too,” she pointed out. Almost alarmingly so.

“Mmm-hmm. You made me feel wild. Are you proud? You should be.”

“Not proud, no. Just happy.“ She sighed with pleasure.

His bare foot danced with hers, toes tracing the curve of her arch and over her heel, and then hooked around her ankle to pull her leg closer. “And if I’m being honest, I’m usually dressed and gone by this time, so this is a little new for me, too.”

She twined her leg harder around his. “You aren’t leaving, and we’re not going home tonight.”

“You couldn’t make me if you wanted to. I would tie you to the bed.”

“You would?” She didn’t mean to sound so eager, but the image of it raced through her head and made her chest warm.

“I still might.” He shifted onto his side and rolled her with him, capturing both of her forearms together at the small of her back. He pinioned her and smacked her buttocks with his free hand.

She squealed and broke free, rubbing her stinging cheek. “O-ow,” she complained, laughing. A grin split his handsome face as he tried to spank her again, and when she was too fast to catch, he wrestled her facedown on the bed and made her whoop with laughter when he threatened to tickle her. “Don’t do it,” she said into the bedcover, mildly hysterical and breathing heavy. “Do not do it, Bo Yeung.”

“Looks like you are in no position to tell me what to do.”

“I’m begging,” she said, trying to blow hair out of her eyes as she twisted around to look at him, but he only pinned her legs down with his and blew the hair back.

“Well, well,” he said. “That’s different. What can you offer me?”

“Umm . . .” She couldn’t stop smiling. Her heart raced madly inside her chest. “I’ll let you be in charge one more time.”

He snorted and smacked her bottom again, this time more playfully—but it made her jump, regardless. “That was going to happen anyway. Every time,” he said, and joy shot through her. Every time. More times. Meaning: this wasn’t an anomaly.

“Try again,” he said, nipping the back of her neck with his teeth. “What can you offer me?”

“I have heard—I mean, I don’t know, but I have it on good authority—that some men might enjoy the feel of . . . well, that is to say, when a woman uses her mouth instead of her hand, you know . . .”

“You don’t say? And where did you hear such a thing? I don’t think it could possibly be true.” She couldn’t see his face through her hair, but he sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

“Are you teasing me?” she asked indignantly.

“Maybe.” He pushed his hips against her backside, where her skin still stung, and she was shocked to feel his erection. “And I accept your offer; though, to be fair, we were going to do that anyway.”

“Hey!” She tried to buck him off of her. “No tickling!”

“But for now, I’ll settle for another trade,” he said, tracing the cleft of her buttocks with one teasing finger that made her gasp. “Because I have it on good authority that some women enjoy the feel of a skilled tongue between their legs, and I know Greta says it’s a sin to brag, but I am most definitely skilled at this task—”

“Stars,” she murmured.

“—and if you’re very, very good, I might lick you a little before I put my cock inside you again.”

TWENTY-THREE

Bo watched the Pacific slowly change from black to blue as morning broke. The cottage’s windows were ablaze with sunlight, and he could see for miles over the calm water. But it only held his attention for a moment, because his attention was focused on the golden girl in his arms.

He lay on his side behind Astrid, spooning her with one arm curled around her waist, his hand cupping her breast.

Her heart beating in his hand.

They shared the bed’s only pillow, and though he’d dozed for a while, his body was aware of the rare gift afforded him—her bare body sleeping next to his—and that had exhilarated him too much to stay asleep for long. He watched her breathing openmouthed on the pillow, limbs entwined with his. He was far too happy.

And far too satisfied for his cock to be thinking about rising again, but there it was. He’d come four times already—the last time, inside her mouth, which was shockingly new to both of them. Neither seemed to have any boundaries, and the realization that her eagerness to explore matched his own was more thrilling than Christmas and New Year and a birthday all rolled up together.