Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)(79)

On the second stroke, she felt herself starting to climax. The unexpected speed shocked her nearly as much as the intensity. It was as if every cell participated, filling with tension and then releasing. She felt herself cry out and couldn’t quiet the sound. He kept touching her and she kept coming, and maybe for the first time ever, she wasn’t in control.

At last she was done. Kent withdrew his fingers but kept touching her lightly. She didn’t know what to think, what to say. She was drained and embarrassed, yet completely under his spell.

She finally opened her eyes and saw him watching her with an expression of pride and worship that touched the deepest, loneliest place in her heart. His arms came around her, and she went into his embrace, secure in the knowledge she would be safe there.

“I’m pretty sure I said ‘holy shit’ already,” he told her, one hand stroking her back, the other settling on her butt. “So saying it again makes me boring. But my mind is mostly blank, and that’s the best I can come up with. You’re amazing. I want to keep doing that. Only I have other things I want to do, and I don’t know which to do first.”

She pressed her belly against his swollen cock. “I think we should start with this.” She raised her head and smiled. “I want to be on top.”

His erection surged as soon as she said the words, and he was already scrambling out of his briefs. But instead of lying down, he touched her cheek.

“There, uh, hasn’t been anyone in a while. So this isn’t going to be my finest performance. Just so you aren’t disappointed.”

She smiled and kissed him. “I’m still having aftershocks. Disappointment isn’t possible.”

She pushed him onto his back, then looked at him. As he’d said, there were a lot of things they could do. Different positions and techniques she’d picked up over the years. But that was for later. Right now she just wanted to feel him inside her and please him as much as he’d pleased her.

She straddled his waist, then eased back slowly. He reached between them and guided himself in one hand, while holding her hip with the other. She pressed back and down until he was inside her. They both gasped.

He filled her to what felt like her stomach. She straightened, letting her body stretch to accommodate him, then wiggled to accept all of him.

He swore.

She laughed.

“Why don’t you stay like that for a second?” he said, his jaw clenched. “I’ll work on control.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She held in a smile. “But if I do this, is it a problem?”

She raised herself slightly and then settled back down on him. He groaned.

“I can play, too,” he told her.

“You’re trying not to play. That’s different.”

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” he said, his gaze intense. “All right. Let’s see about that.”

He moved his hand between them and pressed his thumb against her swollen clit. But instead of holding still, he circled it against all those suddenly hungry nerve endings.

Five seconds ago she would have sworn she was incapable of coming again for at least twenty-four hours. Suddenly she was breathing fast and desperate.

“Don’t stop,” she said, grinding her hips down. “Keep doing that.”

“I swear.” His voice was practically a growl.

He kept his word, rubbing her harder and harder, but suddenly it wasn’t enough. She rose on his penis, then sank down. Her eyes fluttered closed as she rode him, her release tantalizingly out of reach.

“More,” she murmured. “More.”

With each rise and fall, he filled her completely. Friction left her gasping. Again and again. Then it was there and she was so close. So close.

She came with a scream. This orgasm lasted longer than the one before. She leaned forward so she could brace herself on the bed and pump back and forth. At some point Kent wasn’t touching her center anymore. He was holding her hips, helping her keep pace. She opened her eyes and saw him watching her, saw the moment he went over the edge.

They came together. He shoved in deep and she clamped her muscles around him. They stayed like that until they were both still.

With quiet came reality. Consuelo had a vision of herself going up and down, her br**sts pounding, as she screamed for him not to stop.

She’d lost complete control. Twice.

A hand touched her cheek. She forced herself to open her eyes and found him watching her. A self-satisfied smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

“So,” he said. “You’re a screamer.”

She slid off him and lay back on the bed. “I’m not. I’m very quiet and controlled in bed.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I could tell.” He leaned over her and lightly kissed her. “So I was thinking I’d make you come with my mouth, and then we could do it with me behind, because hey, have you seen your ass? Then dinner?”

She felt the moment of choice. Where she could let her past define her or she could give herself to this glorious man. She flung both arms around him and hung on tight.

He pulled her against him and whispered, “You know I like the screaming, right?”

“I know.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ISABEL WALKED THROUGH the empty store next to Paper Moon. It was owned by former champion cyclist Josh Golden, who had spent the past decade buying a measurable percentage of the town. Rumor had it he was a generous landlord, which was good because it wasn’t as if she was swimming in money.