Page 75 of The Woman at the Funeral

My hand slapped to the back of his head, holding him against me as his tongue found my clit and started to gently—almost reverently—circle me.

My hips were impatient, rocking against him as he worked me. My heartbeat fluttered in my chest, my muscles tightening and trembling with the need for release.

The press of his mouth, the twirl of his tongue, was a promise—slow, sure, entirely undoing.

“Nico, please,” I whimpered, fingers digging into his head as he kept the same slow, torturous pace, driving me up achingly slowly.

Pleasure tightened, gathering low and hot like a wave about to crest. Until, with a shuddering cry, it crashed through me, pulling me under over and over.

After, Nico’s head slipped to the side, kissing up my thigh, across my hip, then gaining his feet to press another kiss to my neck.

I hooked my leg around him as my arms slid around his neck.

“Nico,” I whimpered, rocking against his hard length.

I should have felt contented.

But all I felt was a clawing sort of need.

For more.

For all of him.

His hands went down, lifting my other leg until they were both around his hips.

Then his head ducked, and his lips found mine with purpose, with just the right pressure to drag a moan from my lips, his mouth swallowing the sound.

His hips rocked against me as his lips slanted over mine—slower, deeper.

His tongue swept over mine, slow at first, then more demanding, hungrier, as my hips started to move with him.

Then he was moving, turning and walking toward the living room.

He turned, lowering down onto the couch with me astride him.

My hips dropped down, my lips ripping from his as a moan escaped me.

There was no restraint in me then; I rocked against him hard and fast, driving myself up as his lips swallowed my cries.

Nico’s hands slid upward, gently pulling my shirt until I had to break the kiss to let him pull it free.

His molten gaze stayed on my face for a moment as his hips bucked up against me, dragging a throaty sound out of me.

But then his eyes were drifting, moving down to take me in. He sucked in a deep breath that shuddered in his chest. His hand moved up over my ribs, then slipped inward to cup one of my breasts. He watched as his hand squeezed, then his finger and thumb rolled my nipple, making my hips rock against him as the touch sparked.

His other hand rose, teasing my other breast.

Pleasure bloomed as his cock twitched beneath me.

Suddenly, I was moving, sliding back, away.

I saw the slash of disappointment move across his features.

Until he saw me sliding down between his thighs, my hands slipping upward to free him from his thin sleep pants.

Nico sucked in a deep breath as I took in the sight of him. Hard and straining, making my sex clench hard in anticipation of the shape of him, the feel of him.

I closed my hand around the base of his cock and lowered down, teasing my tongue around the head.

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