Page 47 of Heston
“Or a gorgeous baby boy with big brown eyes and shiny black hair.”
That was all it took, him talking about making babies. Quivering with anticipation, London pounced, her slight weight pushing him against the wall, her fingers dancing over his body like a blind person’s fingertips fluttered over Braille. This was her way of remembering the rigid cords in his neck, the hard tension of his pecs when he flexed, the furrowed musculature of her man on her way down his stomach to—
Ah. There. That’s what I want.
He groaned. But once her nimble fingers curled around his cock, once she had a good firm hold, he was hers and she knew it. The big, beautiful length of him thickened in her hand while she feasted on his mouth. Kissing. Tasting. Licking his lips and biting his tongue—until he took charge, picked her up and stepped into the tub with her. By then every part of him was steel. London kept working him. Pumping. Sliding her curled fingers up. Gliding them back down. Licking her lips and wondering if—
“Woman, you keep doing that, and I’ll be done before we get started.” Leaning to one side, he flicked the faucet on, then adjusted the showerheads that ran the length of the tub, converting their bath into a misty rainforest pool.
“Would it be so bad?” she asked breathlessly, water running down her face and into her eyes. She’d done that to him. Made him weak. Made him needy. She’d never thought herself powerful before, but now she realized she was. The femininity within her body and soul had bent this man to her will. Made him tremble. Made him bossy. Made him want her enough to give her what she needed.
“As long as I’ve waited for you, yes, damn it. I’m barely holding on as it is. Now bend over and show me that gorgeous ass. Hands on the edge of the tub, babe. Look outside while I take care of business. Hang on.”
“Ooo, businessman, huh?” London wiggled her backside, teasing even as she spun around and her palms hit the window beside the tub. Not looking out. Not caring who might be looking in. Finally sure of what she’d wanted during her years of missing Heston.
He dropped to his knees behind her, his hands smoothing down the sides of her ribs to her hips. “Spread ’em, babe,” he ordered huskily, his fingertips dancing over her bare ass while his tongue slipped down her spine. Then lower. Lower…
Quick as a wink, she complied. He’d always loved looking at her, touching her secret places. Testing her limits, even play spanking her sometimes. The fever in her blood spiked at the possibility this might be one of those times.
“Farther,” he ordered, landing a gentle slap to her butt. “Wider.”
Like a hungry hooker in a back alley, she shifted her feet apart until she was nearly doing the splits. Her heart pounded a staccato salsa in her chest, knowing the view she was giving him. Her right foot pressed over the drain while the other argued with the slippery back of hammered copper over where the best footing was. The slippery slope won. Her foot ended up braced at the edge of the tub, giving Heston more to see and better access.
As if he agreed, he pressed both thumbs deep between her cheeks and spread her apart. London’s breath caught when his hot breath fell on that tender stretch of feverish skin. Her toes curled. Her body clenched in eager anticipation. The tantalizing scrub of his scruff over her tenderest flesh was enough to send her flying all by itself. She’d never had whisker burnstherebefore. Part pain. Part pleasure.Ahhh.
Warm wet rain trickled into her hair and eyes. Into her panting mouth. Down her back. Over her bare backside and—there—where his tongue teased and demanded. Fire scorched everywhere his tongue touched. London’s libido sprang to life. She closed her eyes, lost in the paradise she’d nearly given away. Why? To prove what? That she was every bit as strong and as smart as a man? She no longer cared what the world of men wanted from her or thought of her. The only one she cared about was Heston. He mattered. No one else.
“Hang on,” he ordered, his fingernails digging into her flesh, reminding her who was boss. That he owned her. He’d better be careful. Between the heat of his breath and the scintillating drag of his whiskers against her slick skin, as well as the feral, needy mewls coming out of her throat, he might own her sooner than she expected. London was a hot, jumbled mess of hormones, fire, lust, and desire. Her blood was hot, so hot. She was already dancing on her toes, ready to come. Needing the building orgasm to explode and blow her world apart.
Without asking, his tongue speared into her core and… and…
Those lovely fairy lights twinkled brighter and faster. Or maybe it was her. Maybe she was the one twinkling. But when he lit that greedy string of det cord between his mouth and her core, she was a jittery breath away from coming all over him.
Thrusting her backside against his face, London growled. “Heston… Hes… Hes-s-s-s-s… M-more.”
He pinched her butt cheek and feasted where no man had feasted before. Adding his fingers to the mix, his voice turned growly deep. “Not yet,” he ordered. Him stroking the erogenous tripwire just inside her body vibrated her heartstrings. He knew how to pluck those intimate chords until she was wound tight. Tighter. Until…
“Ahh,” she ground out, her body pulsating under his skillful touch, tensed for the pleasure winding up from her toes.
“Hands flat against the window, babe.”
She hadn’t realized her fingers were in her hair or that she’d jutted her breasts forward as far as she had. “Please, Hes. Harder. I need this. So do you.”
“You ready?” he rasped, his voice moist and hot in her ear as he joined her in the tub and braced one foot against the drain.
Her foot slid out from under his, then against his, using him for support. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Hes, hurry, I’m… I’m…”
“Don’t you dare come. Get those hands back on the glass. Look at yourself in the window. You think someone’s outside watching? If they are, they can see every inch of your naked ass and how sexy you look. How beautiful your tits are. They’ll get to watch you come undone, babe. Trust me, you never looked hotter. Great tits. Best ass in the world. Look at you. Look at me!”
She couldn’t comply fast enough. Just spread her fingers wide apart on the steamy windowpane, as far as they could reach, until her wet skin squeaked against smooth, cool glass. One quick right-handed action wiped a circle of condensation from the glass. And—there she was. Her turquoise green eyes wanton and wide. Her lips swollen, wet, and red. Her breasts were heavy, her nipples diamond hard and taut. She’d become every bit a sultry, shameless siren from the depths of the wildest seas.
And there stood Heston, tall and broad behind her. His eyes were bright and eager. His hair had flopped into his eyes, and those pits of steamy black were so damned hot. Every bit of him screamed warrior. Protector.Mine!
“I s-s-see you,” she stuttered, her pulse pounding.
“I see you too, babe,” he growled, his fingertips dug into her hips, his thumbs pressed into the small of her back. “Every last piece of you. You’re so damned beautiful, and you’re mine. Allmine.” He delivered that last declaration with a stinging smack to her ass.
Felt so, so good. Like a lovesick sex-kitten, she mewed, “It’s raining, Hes.”
