Page 39 of Caught from Behind

Further.

Lower.

Slower.

I kiss my way along each collarbone, lave the soft indent at the base of her throat, then go further, tasting the rainbows adorning her skin from the sunshine streaming through the windows.

Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo. Vi?—

“Oh God!” she cries as I suckle on her nipple, drawing the hardened tip deep, while I caress her other breast, rolling the peak between thumb and forefinger.

That hand hits my spine again, and I freeze, look up at her.

Eyes half-mast. Cheeks bright red. Mouth swollen. Whisker burn on her throat. Hair tangled and splayed out on her pillow. Delicate collarbones. Gorgeous breasts. The soft curve of her belly.

Narrow hips I need to hold on to as I fuck her hard and deep.

Strong legs—not a surprise considering she’s on her feet all day—that I want wrapped around my waist, tightening with each of my thrusts.

In a word…she’s a fucking goddess.

“Chérie,” I warn, the hot puff of the word on her breast making her shiver.

Those desire-filled eyes slowly focus on mine.

“Keep. Them. There.”

More desire. More proof that she likes my orders.

More blood flowing to my dick and eroding my control.

Especially when she reaches overhead, when she grips the headboard.

But, as usual, Ella takes me by surprise…

She wraps her legs around my waist, her hot pussy brushing my stomach, her lips coming to my ear, tongue flicking out, and?—

The last of my control unravels.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ella

I feel his body stiffen and for a moment, a blip of uncertainty hits me.

Is he?—?

Did I?—?

But then he groans, giving me his weight, his big, bulky body pinning me to the bed. His jeans are the sweetest abrasion, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my stomach the worst kind of tease.

I want the layers gone.

I want it to be just him and me, our naked skin pressed together.

Especially when his groan is cut off by him sucking at my nipples again, his hand working my other breast with no quarter. Suction. Pressure. Perfect. Roughened fingertips and a sleek, wet tongue. A calloused palm and a mouth that is sin itself.

Just because I’m me, I reach for him again, this time brushing my fingers through the silky locks of his hair.

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