Page 22 of Sexpresso Night

“But…but…” Her words trailed off as he leaned in and licked her.

“So sweet.” He licked again. “So wet. Were you wet all afternoon, Danya?”

“Yes.” The word came out on a groan. She grabbed his shoulders and held on.

He kissed her folds, soft as flower petals, one side then the other, sucked her into his mouth and gently tugged. She moaned again.

He licked up one side, down the other, pushed his tongue inside her and her body jolted. “Love eating you,” he muttered, releasing one thigh to push a finger inside her. Wet heat clutched at his finger, pulled at it. Fuck. He kissed her pussy again and again and then finally laid a kiss right over her quivering little clit. “Wanna make you come, Danya. Want you to feel good.”

“It does feel good. It feels soooo good.” Her voice was a throaty purr.

He tongued her clit, lapped at it, then sucked it into his mouth, hard. Her body tightened, then convulsed beneath him, and he had to hold her thighs apart with his hands as she came hard against his mouth. She cried out, loud enough for people outside the room to hear, and he wanted to smile.

Her juices flowed onto his tongue, creamy and sweet, and he sucked and licked her until her body stopped trembling. She’d fallen back onto her elbows on the table, her head back, hair dangling down to sweep over the polished wood. He looked up over her belly, her breasts, her exposed throat. His. She was his. She might not know it yet, but she was his.

“There you go.” He straightened with only a small twinge of protest from his muscles. Dammit. He leaned over her and kissed her mouth, his lips still wet from her, and she kissed him back almost as if she were drunk, slow and soft.

“I can’t believe you did that.” She attempted to push herself up, her hair a tousled mess around her head. He helped her sit up, then lifted her off the table to her feet, and tugged the skirt down over her hips.

She leaned into him, as if weak, and yeah, she probably was after that table-shaking orgasm.

She touched her fingers to her mouth and gazed up at him. “I was kind of noisy.”

He grinned. “You were perfect. Who cares?”

She sucked in her bottom lip. “Do you do this all the time? Bring girls back here and fuck them?”

“I didn’t fuck you,” he said cheerfully, taking her hand and leading her to the door. Her steps were a bit unsteady. “But no. Not here.”

She laughed. “Okay, never mind where you do it.”

“Want me to walk you to your car?”

“No. That’s okay. It’s just a couple of blocks away.”

He stood beside her at the door and tipped her chin up. “I want to see you again.”

She smiled at him. “Me too.”

He pulled out his cell phone. “Give me your number.” She gave it to him and he keyed it into his contacts then snapped the phone shut. “I’ll call you.”

* * *

She’d heard those words before, and usually what they meant was “thanks for the fuck, I won’t call you”. And usually that had been fine with her. But she really, really wanted Carter to call her.

She walked to her car in a dreamy haze, still a bit high from the orgasm, oblivious to the Sunday afternoon crowds on the beach and sidewalks. The ache in her thighs and hips was a thrilling reminder of how he’d taken her last night.

Her phone chimed in her purse and she pulled it out. A text.

Thanks for coming. She laughed out loud. ButI’m still hard.

She paused on the sidewalk to type her response. I guess that’s your problem :-)

She kept walking as she waited for his response. Sure enough, another beep. Yeah. You’ll have to work on that next time.

My pleasure.

An evilly smiling emoticon came back moments later, and she laughed again. She hadn’t felt this lighthearted, this freakin’ happy in so damn long, it was kind of scary.

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