Page 36 of On His Knees

“Shit.”

“The pillow of course will go under my hips, so I can open my body to you.”

He rewards me with a caress to my clit.

“Mmm,” I moan.

“I love when you make that sound.”

“I know,” I say, and his chuckle warms me all over.

“So you’re a tease, then?” he says, and lightly plucks at my clit.

“Tate...”

“I can tease, too, Summer.”

He goes to his knees in front of me, water laps around him as his lips find mine. We kiss, and I revel in the taste of brandy on his tongue. He lifts me a bit, and the wind batters my nipples. They grow hard, and he groans when he gazes at them.

“Put your mouth on me,” I plead, and he gives me a look that suggests my openness during sex just might be killing him. He wraps his mouth around my nipple, and my sex clenches, the sensation of hot to cold on my flesh settling deep between my legs. He breaks the kiss, and dips his finger into the brandy. The alcohol pools on his fingertip as he brings it to my nipple. He lets the drop fall and spread over my hard bud, then swirls his fingers around the outer edge of my areola.

“Tate...that feels so good.” I let my head fall back, as he bathes my nipple in brandy, then uses the soft blade of his tongue to wipe it away. Dear God the man certainly knows his way around a woman’s body.

“Let’s go inside. There are things I need to do to you that I can’t do out here.”

He stands, his cock right there, and I do the only thing I can do. I lean forward and take him into my mouth. He groans as I suck on him, and I go up on one of the steps, the wind whipping over my hot body as I place his cock between my breasts and squeeze them. Tate holds my head and rocks into me, slowly moves his cock between my wet breasts. With each upward thrust, I lick his crown, and the sensation of him fucking me like this settles deep between my legs.

“I need you inside, Summer,” he says, stepping back and lifting me to my feet.

He climbs from the tub first and helps me out. Steam rolls off his body, as he reaches for my towel and wraps it around me. We step inside, and he closes the door, locking the world out and us in, and for a little while longer I want to live in this bubble with him. He grabs one brandy glass and fills it as I head to the bedroom to gather blankets and pillows. I return to find him flicking the switch to the propane fireplace. It goes up in a burst.

My eyes meet his, and warm familiarity moves through me. There is something about our mellow mood, our sleepiness, that wraps around me like a favorite old blanket, and arouses deeper things in me.

“Turn,” he says, a soft command as he swirls his finger in the air. I do as he wishes, and stand there for a moment with my back to him. He’s upon me without a sound, his body pressing against mine, his erection denting my back as his hands move to my ass. He cups my cheeks, squeezes gently then spreads me. I gasp when he bends his knees and nuzzles the long length of his cock between my cheeks. He slides his hands around my body, and cups my breasts, as my ass cheeks hug the long length of him. I stiffen a little, the position both strange and new to me. Honestly, I’

ve never had anal sex before, never trusted a man with my body like this.

His breath ruffles my hair when he puts his mouth to my ear and whispers. “You are beautiful.” Then he’s gone from my body, leaving cold where there was once heat, and his departure leaves me aching to my core, a big gaping hole only he can fill.

Oh God, Summer. Be very, very careful with this one.

I take a second to pull myself together. Still not fully composed, I turn to find him picking up the brandy glass. “Come here,” he says, and crooks his fingers. I let my gaze drop to his steel erection. I crave him, need him inside me more than I need my next breath. Good God, what have I gotten myself into here?

I step up to him, let the blanket and pillows fall to the floor. His knuckles brush mine, then slowly move up my sides, reintroducing them to my quivering body. There are no hurried fingers this time, no frenzied rush between strangers, just a slow exploration that rocks me to my core. I draw in a quick breath, and it comes out as a shuddery exhale. Never in my life have I felt so open and vulnerable...adored.

I blink, realizing he’s asked me a question.

“What?” I ask.

“Why can’t I seem to get enough of you?”

Do I dare tell him I feel the same way? That sex has never been like this with any other man before? “I think it’s the mountain air. Makes a person light-headed.” It’s the only explanation I can come up with.

His soft, barely there chuckle falls over me, and brings on goose bumps. He turns, grabs the glass of brandy and hands it to me. “Drink.”

I tip the glass and swallow. When I’m done, he takes the crystal from me and finishes it. We’ve had sex numerous times, so why does drinking from the same glass seem that much more intimate? He turns to pour another splash into the glass, and I go to my hands and knees, to spread out the blanket and arrange the pillows.

His growl wraps around me, and in that instant, I realize I’ve offered up my ass to an ass man.

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