Page 9 of Hot Buttered Rum

Turner reluctantly lowered his hands, and I groaned in disappointment. I swallowed hard trying to figure out how to come out of this without seeming like a terrible tease. I had, after all, been the one to start it by opening my robe.

“I suppose that’s my cue to shove off, eh?” he said. The hitch in his deep voice proved that he was equally disappointed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s just the bubble bath and the—” I stopped myself realizing that I was just looking for an excuse.

Turner leaned his forearm against the wall and leaned as close as he could get without actually touching me. “You know what I think?”

I peered up at him, waiting for his response.

He lifted his hand and let the back of his fingers trail over the skin from my breast to my stomach. “I think you are a beautiful, smart, independent woman who likes the idea of letting her guard down behind closed doors.” His fingers danced a light circle around my belly button. My nipples hardened and warm gooseflesh covered my skin. “Tell me, my beautiful, wanton wench—” His fingers continued an erotic path to my pussy. “How long has it been since someone made you cry out in pleasure?”

I sucked in a breath as his fingers slid through the folds of my pussy. My desire to have him touch me was no longer a secret.

A roguish smile tilted his mouth as his fingers found the moisture pooling between my legs. “Ah, the sweet nectar of a woman who needs to be fucked and fucked hard.”

The gasp that followed should have been one of shock. It should have been but it wasn’t. His rough, coarse words only served to make me more wet with desire. A physical reaction that did not escape his notice.

“Hell, woman, you are about as fucking sweet as honey.” He pressed his mouth against mine as his fingers plunged inside of me. I grabbed hold of his arms for support and knew there was no turning back. I would finish with an orgasm or melt into a puddle from disappointment.

Instinctively, I spread my feet farther, inviting him to go deeper.

“That’s it my sultry captive, spread those sleek thighs and let me feel every inch of you.”

I held tightly to him as I moved my hips in rhythm with his hand. The heel of his hand warmed my clit with friction as his fingers impaled me, drawing out more cream from my pussy. Turner knew exactly what he was doing. His prowess coupled with the fact that it had been so long for me brought me quickly to orgasm.

“Fuck yes,” I cried as I came against his hand. His free arm went around me, to steady me as the hand between my thighs continued to make me shudder with pleasure. He stroked my pussy until I could no longer stand on my own. Then he swept me into his arms and carried me to the bed.

I gazed up at him, the dark, sea soaked stranger who had touched me intimately and made me writhe in pleasure, as he covered my naked body with the downy quilt on the bed. He leaned down and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Good night, my pretty wench. I’d tell you sweet dreams, but I’d rather if you had some good raunchy ones. Preferably with me as the main character.”

Turner whistled and Dexter flew across the room and landed on his shoulder. He flashed me a white smile before closing the door behind him.

I turned over and curled deep in the blankets and mountain of pillows. I could still feel the heat of his hand between my legs. I wished that the tender ache he’d left behind would last forever. And that was my final thought before I drifted off into a deep sleep.

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