Page 47 of Moonlighter
Later, I’ll blame my dreams for making me so bold. But it seems perfectly natural to coast my palm down his bare skin until I meet the waistband of his boxers. Crisp cotton greets my fingers, and it’s covering a proud erection that’s trying to break free of those shorts.
Well,good morning. I slide my hand down his length. Just the heat against my palm turns me on. I’m already embarrassingly wet.
But I’ve always been a go-getter, so I run my hand lightly over the cotton. And when Eric gives a grunt of pleasure, I slip my hand beneath the waistband and close my fingers around his cock.
He groans happily. And after a minute or two, he rolls onto his back, reaches down and shoves his boxers off his body. “If you’re going to do a thing, do it right,” he says, opening his eyes. “Take that off.” He points at my nightgown.
Well, heck. I thought a sleepy Eric would be easier to control. Apparently, I was wrong, because I find myself lifting my silk gown over my head and throwing it onto the rug.
“Good morning to me,” he whispers. “Come give me a kiss.”
But I don’t remember handing him the reins. So I lean down and lick his cock from root to tip instead.
“Oh. Fuck. Wow. Yeah,” he sputters. He gathers my hair in one big hand. “Do that again.”
Part of me wants to argue. But most of me wants to do exactly what he says. I nuzzle his cock, letting the head bump against my nose. He smells salty and clean. I take a soft, teasing lick and hear myself moan. When I open my mouth and take him in, he’s weighty on my tongue.
“Yeah. More. Suck me.” His hips shift with eagerness.
But I take my time, of course. There’s no reason to let on that I had a fitful night’s sleep. That his naked body starred in my dreams and probably will again.
I’m winning at life right now, anyway. Who knew I’d get a last, sexual hurrah before I became a mother? And who could guess that I’d have it with a fine specimen like Eric Bayer? Seriously, pinch me.
And he might just do that. He has a firm grip on my hair, and he’s trying his best to fuck my mouth, twisting his hips for more.
I pop off him, just because I can.
“Fuuuuuck,” he moans. “Engels.”
“Yes?” I whisper playfully.
“Suck my cock, honey. You know you love it.”
My body tightens deliciously because he’s right. So I dip my head and take him as deeply as I dare. I give a solid suck and look up at him for approval. And—wow. He’s propped up on those incredible arms. His hair is wild, and his face is flushed. As he breathes, those abs ripple.
“You see something you like?” he asks with a grin.
I drop my gaze and close my eyes, laving my tongue along his shaft. My skin flashes hot, and I squeeze my legs together against the emptiness. I hate the easy way he makes me feel so unhinged.
But I go to town with all the enthusiasm of a sex-starved woman who had dirty dreams all night and is living another one right now.
“Come here,” he says after a few amazing minutes.
“Kind of busy here,” I gasp before taking him into my mouth again.
“Yeah, well, I can’t take much more of your wicked tongue. If you want to ride me, you better do it soon.”
Oh, wow. I really do want that. As I glance up again at his sex-flushed face, I’m unable to hide how much.
“I know what you need,” he says softly.
“You do, do you?” I argue out of reflex, but it’s clear that I’m not fooling anyone.
Smirking, he sits up and crooks a finger at me. That smug gesture should annoy me, but I’m blinded by his perfect body. Maybe you’re allowed to be smug if you’ve got those washboard abs and that V of muscle swooping down on either side of your flat stomach.
I’m all too willing to crawl toward him, naked, and climb into his lap.
“That’s a girl,” he says, lifting one hand to my breast, giving my nipple a quick pinch, and then coasting his palm down my body. His touch is appraising, like I’m a racehorse he’s inspecting, and I have no idea why I like it.
