Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)(50)

“No.”

He moved from breast to breast. Licking, sucking. She felt trapped in her own skin, kind of hot and cold at the same time. She raised her hands to his head and ran her fingers through his hair. Her legs moved against the cool sheets.

The hand on her belly moved. Slowly, he shifted it across her stomach until his fingers dipped between her thighs. She parted her legs instinctively, knowing what would happen next. He would rub her there a few minutes, then assume the position. Once he was inside, she would make those noises guys seemed to like and then he’d come and then it would be over.

She turned her head, trying to see the clock. If it didn’t take too long, she could still watch a movie on pay-per-view.

He explored her gently, sliding over her clitoris before easing a finger inside her.

“You’re wet,” he murmured.

Not surprising, she thought. It wasn’t that she didn’t like what he was doing. It was just...so what? Yes, it felt nice for a while, but then she wanted it to be over. Why did it have to take so long?

He began to rub her center. As he did that, he shifted so they were kissing again. She was aroused, she thought, frustrated. She usually got aroused. But then it went nowhere. He continued to kiss her as his fingers moved against her center. She liked what he was doing—liked the warmth flowing through her, the tension. She wanted to push or strain, and as need built inside her, she started to feel uncomfortable. Not physically. She wasn’t sure how. Maybe in her head?

She just wasn’t that woman, she thought grimly. The one who threw herself on the bed and breathed, “Take me now!” Sex was fine. This was better than it had ever been, but still, she didn’t understand what—

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Ford said, shifting so he rested his head on his hand, his weight supported on his elbow as he faced her.

“My brain doesn’t turn off.”

“I can tell.” He lightly traced her breast, his finger slipping over her tight nipple.

A shiver rippled through her.

He did it again and she shivered again.

“Count backward from a thousand,” he told her. “In threes.”

“What?”

“I want your mind busy so it can’t freak you out.”

“I’m not freaked out. I’m totally calm.” She reached over and put her hand on his hip. His erection strained toward her. He was going to fill her completely and that would feel nice.

“It’s your turn,” she murmured. “Let’s do that.”

“I don’t think so.” He rolled onto his hands and knees, then slipped between her thighs. Although he loomed over her, he didn’t try to enter her. “A thousand, nine hundred ninety-seven...”

“Fine. It’s a stupid idea. Nine hundred and ninety-four.”

“Close your eyes and count.”

She did as he instructed. She didn’t know why he was making such a big deal of this. Not everyone felt the earth move every time. Or ever. She was okay with that.

“You counting?”

“Yes,” she lied and turned her attention to the numbers.

Ford leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth. He’d done that before and it was still nice. She liked the way his tongue swirled and teased. When he lightly bit down, her breath caught and she lost her place. Nine hundred and forty-something, she thought. Seven. Forty-seven. Only seven wasn’t divisible by three, so that wasn’t right.

He kissed his way down her belly. She giggled as his breath tickled, then caught her breath as he circled her belly button. Two, she told herself. Nine hundred and forty-two. Nine hundred and thirty-nine. Nine—

He went lower and lower, until his fingers lightly parted her and he pressed his tongue against the very center of her.

Her eyes flew open as he moved against her core. Moved in a way that made it impossible to count. It wasn’t so much the pressure, she thought as her eyes slowly closed. Or the speed. It was the combination. Over and over that single swollen knot of nerves. Around and over. Her skin got hot and felt a little tight. The bottoms of her feet burned. She ached in the strangest places, and when she tried to figure out if she was breathing, she realized she was almost panting.

He didn’t go faster or slower. Instead he kept moving his tongue against her. She was caught in the sensations flowing out from that single point. The world completely faded and she wanted to beg him not to stop, only she couldn’t speak.

There was something just out of her reach. She could feel it getting closer, but she didn’t know what to look for, what to feel, what to—

He slipped a finger deep inside her. Instantly her muscles clamped around him. He withdrew and pushed in two, then curled them slightly, stroking her from the other side. Rhythm matched rhythm. She could almost see it. Could almost.

Pure liquid pleasure rushed through her. It claimed her, every cell, every thought. She no longer existed except through the shuddering sensations rocking all of her. She got the falling reference and the wave one. Either worked. She lost herself in the amazing response of her body, letting herself become little more than a floating entity.

Ford continued to touch her, slowing the contact until the last ounce of her release faded. Isabel lay there on the bed, both thrilled and embarrassed.

How on earth had she missed that for the past twenty-eight years? Or even ten? What on earth had she been doing wrong? And when could she have her next orgasm?