Page 100 of Blood Stone
Kate leaned back against him, surges of heated lust washing through her. She tried to reach back to touch him, but he pushed her hand away. Instead he grabbed both her wrists and guided them to the wooden arms of the director’s chair and placed them on each arm. It bent her over from the hips.
Garrett’s hand snaked inside her jeans, sliding down between her thighs. “Mmm...such heat,” he murmured. His fingers slipped into her cleft, finding the sopping entrance of her vagina. “So wet.”
He pulled his hand from her jeans and tugged them down her hips. He didn’t push them far. Just enough to expose her genitals and give him access. His cock, still as hard as if he hadn’t come, drove into her, feeling larger and more overwhelming because of her closed legged stance and squeezed entrance. His fingers dug into her hips as he pushed his way in, and she smothered her gasping cry against her arm.
Garrett slid in and out of her in unhurried strokes, controlling her body with his hands, his hips and pelvis kissing her ass with each deep thrust. She could hear his approaching climax in the way his breath changed and the grip of his fingers.
But long before he reach orgasm, her own body demanded her full attention. Building from her belly, her climax swelled and grew, driven by the friction of his cock against her pussy walls, and the almost touch of her clit each time he thrust home. She tensed up, winding tighter and tighter, trembling on the very brink of explosive pleasure.
“Damn and hell’s teeth, ye’re too much, Kate,” Garrett gasped. His hips jerked hard. Once, twice, and he groaned as he came.
Barely had his fingers loosened on her hips, than he straightened her up, turned them both and sat them both in her chair. He spread her knees over his, as much as her lowered jeans would allow them. His cock was still inside her.
“How is that for symbolism?” he asked, his lips close by her ear, for he was that tall. His hand worked under the hem of her tee-shirt and up to capture her breast. “Your heart is racing. Relax. Lean back against me.”
Kate did and found her head fitting nicely against his shoulder. “You should go and get something to eat.”
“I’m not done with you yet.” His other hand slid over the curve of her hip. “I could spend days and not be done with you, but for now…” His fingers found her swollen, throbbing clit. It was more than adequately lubricated by the moisture from her vagina and the tips of his fingers moved against her flesh like satin probes, setting fire to her nerves.
He teased all around the organ, exploring it, learning her most sensitive spots, before he zeroed in on them and began to stroke in earnest. By then, her delayed climax had gathered again with more potency than before. Kate found herself gripping at Garrett’s thighs, clenching and unclenching her fists, as she neared the apex.
“Ye’re squeezing me. Ye’ve no idea how sexy and arousing it is to me, Kate,” he whispered. “Come around me. Clench around me as ye come. I want to feel it.”
His whispered words, in the subtle brogue, were enough to tip her into her climax. She sucked in her breath as it hit, then her chest locked as the pleasure held her in what felt like an endless, timeless plateau unlike anything she had ever experienced.
Then she screamed. She couldn’t stop it, despite knowing she must stay silent. But before the sound left her mouth, Garrett turned her head and kissed her, muffling the scream and taking it into him.
When the climax released her, Garrett’s kiss lingered for a moment or two more. He pulled his hand away from her clit but rested it on her belly. The other still cupped her breast. It was an intimate hug, one that she would do almost anything to repeat some other day…especially if Garrett was the one hugging her.
“How do I bottle this moment?” she asked.
“Ye can’t. The best ye can do is never forget it or let bitter times spoil the memory.” He gave a small smile.
She settled her head back on his shoulder. “Ye’re a closet romantic, Calum Micheil,” she told him, copying his brogue.
He shuddered.
“What did I say?” she asked, lifting her head again to look him in the eye.
“You sounded a little like…” He grimaced. “My mother.”
Kate pressed her lips together. “Considering how we’re sitting, the last person I want to sound like is your mother.”
He shook his head a little. “I liked it, Kate. You don’t understand. I haven’t been around anyone close enough to call family in a very long time. The echo of my mother’s voice……It was a reminder of better times. Simpler ones.” He smiled again, and this time it was more relaxed. “She used to call me ‘Calum Micheil’ – both names, like that, but usually I was in deep shit when she did. There isn’t anyone I know who calls me anything but Garrett these days.”
She wrapped her arm around his neck, twisting to do it. “No friends? No lovers?”
“My friends all call me Garrett. I gave up on love years ago. My heart couldn’t take it anymore.” His voice was even, but there was a wealth of history in that simple statement.
“No wonder you sign yourself as DoveAngel on Twitter,” she murmured.
Garrett lifted her up onto her feet with one smooth hoist of his arms, plucking her from his body. “Don’t get all Freudian on me. I’m a big boy.”
“Yes, you are,” she agreed, with a smile, pulling up her jeans and fastening them.
Garrett stood and refastened his clothing. He didn’t reply, but she could see he was smiling.
She pulled out her cellphone and checked the time. “Ten minutes to show time,” she said. “You’ll have time.”
Garrett lifted his head and looked at her.
“I want your chair back here behind the camera where it belongs, and I want your ass in it when the camera rolls.”
