Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders #6)(84)

“Why the devious smile, India Blue?”


“No reason. I thought you were gonna show me all the places you’d like to kiss me and your mouth is nowhere near where I want it to be.”


“You’re so impatient.”


She slid his palms down her ribcage to her hips and shimmied closer, letting her bare breasts sway in front of his lips. She eased back when his tongue flicked out to swipe at a hardened nipple. “Or maybe you need an incentive.”


Without waiting for his response, India leaned over and grabbed the can. She sat up and squirted a dollop of whipped cream on her left nipple.


Colt’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.


“Put your mouth on me, Colt. Lick me, suck me. Show me how you wanted to kiss me.”


“Jesus Christ.”


The mechanism in the recliner went sproing as it snapped back into a chair.


Then he was upright with his lips pursed around her nipple, sucking off the sweet white stuff like a vacuum. Opening his mouth wider and wider until he seemed to suck her whole breast inside.


The cold spot from the whipped cream evaporated in his heated, hungry mouth. She arched into him, grinding into his cock, her blood pumping in cadence with him drawing her nipple in and out.


He snatched the can, tipped it upside down and sprayed a thick mound on her right nipple. This time he licked a tiny swath until just the pink tip poked out.


Slowly. Round and round. A measured lick here and there. His tongue started at the bottom swell of her breast, flattened around the sides, tapered to a fine point over her breastbone. As the circle grew smaller and smaller, he went slower and slower. He zeroed in on the rigid aching nipple, letting his tongue toy with the hoop, while his right thumb lightly feathered the skin above the waistband of her jeans, causing her belly to tremble.


When he’d lapped up every drop, he sank his teeth into her sticky flesh, toeing that fine line between pleasure and pain, knowing just how much pressure she could stand.


White-hot desire lanced through her.


She’d been rocking the seam of her jeans, which was directly in line with her clit, against the hardest part of him. The instant his teeth and tongue and hands and mouth came together, the throbbing between her legs synchronized and ignited an orgasm that left her gasping.


Once the ringing in her ears stopped, India realized the growling noise vibrating against her throat sounded suspiciously like a satisfied male chuckle.


Hey. How’d she get off…track? She’d meant to tease him.



Make him lose control. So why did she have whipped cream smeared all over her chest and her sex was spasming?


Just lucky.


Time to spread the luck around.


Colt scattered sticky kisses back to her lips and devoured her mouth. He tasted sweet and spicy and darkly male.


She used her teeth on his jawbone. Kissed his dimples. Blew in his ear until he shivered. “Take off your sweats.”


He went utterly still. “What?”


Her tongue darted out and flicked his earlobe and he moaned.


“I’m going to squirt whipped cream all over your cock, Colt. I’m going to lick and suck it off. Then I’m going to suck you off. You’re going to come in my mouth and I’m going to swallow every creamy spurt.”


“Jesus.”


“Any more questions?”


“Hell no.”