Page 65 of Worth Every Risk

“Shit,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin.

I cling to his broad shoulders, needing to catch my breath before I speak. “Are you going to swear all night?”

He shakes his head, and I can feel him smile against my mouth. “I’m encouraged that you’re planning on being here allnight.” His hands slide down my back to grip the bottom of my tracksuit top. “But you’re wearing far too many clothes.”

I lift my arms to let him pull off my jumper, which he throws to the floor. Underneath, I’m wearing the skimpy pyjama top, without a bra. My breasts suddenly feel huge and sensitive against the cotton. My nipples are hard and easily visible and, as if he knows what I’m thinking, Mr Hawkston stares at my chest, a look of utter amazement on his face as he draws in a few slow breaths.

His gaze drifts upward to my face, his eyes widening just a fraction before his arm slides around my back and he’s pulling me towards him again, his mouth latching onto my hardened nipple through my top. He moans against my breast, and I feel it between my legs.

I gasp as his fingers dust against the skin of my stomach. He releases my nipple from his mouth so he can lift up my top and take it off. I raise my arms and he eases it over me. He flings it to the floor to join my jumper.

I’m topless for only a second before his mouth is on my other breast, sucking it into the warmth, flicking my nipple with his tongue, while his other hand gently kneads the flesh of my other breast. “These are beautiful,” he whispers, his voice sounding heavy with want.

My back arches, and a noise that can only be described as an erotic moan slides over my tongue, escaping between my lips.

His teeth graze the length of my hardened nipple, tugging on it. A shot of white-hot desire jolts right to my clit.

The attention he gives my breasts is the most exquisite foreplay, and the slickness between my legs increases.

I run my hand into his thick hair, dragging him off me. My breast leaves his mouth with a slick pop.

He looks up, a question in his eyes.

“I need more,” I almost beg.

“And you’ll get it,” he reassures me, his voice so low I could lick it off the floor. “But I want to appreciate every second of this.”

A flutter of unease breaks through my arousal. Does he want to savour this moment because it’s a one-time thing? Is this my only chance with this man? I hope not, because it feels like there is no end to my wanting him. If he denies me, I’ll never be able to satisfy this endless craving alone…

He draws me into another kiss. His fingers tease at the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms, but he doesn’t pull them off or order me to. Instead, he slides his hand beneath them and my shorts, his fingers trailing through the hair.Fuck, I should have waxed.

I hold my breath, expecting some hesitation on his part. I bet his ex-wife was completely hair-free.Shit.

“What?” he asks, obviously sensing my tension.

“I didn’t wax.”

“Do you think I give a fuck about that?”

My clit throbs as his fingers graze over it, and then he goes deeper. His finger pushes inside me, sliding with ease, and I inhale sharply. He lets out the longest, deepest moan so far as his finger sinks to the knuckle.

Mr Hawkston’s mouth is on my neck again, pressing kisses up to my ear, sucking my earlobe between his lips as his finger thrusts in and out of me. The slick sounds of my pussy welcoming him fill the room. It’s so loud I’d be embarrassed if I cared. But I don’t, because my body has taken over, my hips thrusting against his hand as another finger joins the first.

“So wet, Aries. So fucking wet,” he groans in appreciation. “If I knew you wanted me this much, I’d have done this earlier.”

“I’ve only been here a few weeks. You couldn’t have done it much earlier.”

“I’d have taken you out there on the lawn when you first arrived.”

I giggle. “The sexy gardener thing really did it for me. I’d have said yes.”

“I know.”

His fingers curl against the perfect spot inside me as I grind against the heel of his hand, seeking my release. The pressure building in my core is so hot, so insistent, that I can’t hold it back.

I grip his shoulders, digging my fingers into his shirt as he finger-fucks me so perfectly that I’m a breath away from orgasm. “Oh, oh, fuck,” I cry. “So good, it’s so good. Don’t stop.”

I ride his hand unashamedly, chasing the orgasm that’s spreading from between my legs through my entire being. It bursts with a power that shakes my whole body, my feet lifting from the floor as Mr Hawkston holds my weight with his other arm.

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