Fat Girl (46 page)

I smile back, not minding at all. “I meant, what happened that took so long.”

“Mm…you smell good.” He sweeps his nose along my neck and I arch into him, breathing into the pleasure of his touch.

“Tell me what happened.”

“They snapped a few pictures. Then I drove around for a while to be sure I wouldn’t be followed to your place.”

“That. Sounds. Awful.” Each word catches as he works his mouth down the column of my throat to my necklace.

“What was awful was not being here.” He pauses at the pendant and looks up with a restless expression, need and want sparking in his eyes. “I fantasized about you the entire time wearing nothing but this. Now I’m here and I’m done fantasizing.”

I was hoping to avoid the naked part. I removed the panties earlier so that we could make love while I kept my nightie on. My handful of lovers accepted that I never totally disrobed, but I should have known Mick wouldn’t. He likes to look.

I breathe deeply as he pushes the garment up my thighs. His fingers against my skin are electric, whipping my nerve endings into chaos and momentarily scattering my thoughts.

He lifts the top half of my body up toward him and raises the short gown higher. His hands graze my breasts and the tug of the lace abrades my nipples. Seconds later the black silk is whisked over my head and sent sailing to the floor. I’m as naked as he is, except for the diamond necklace sparkling in the candlelight.

Mick lays me down, settling my head on the pillow. Above me, his eyes move over my face and body. The dim light of the bedroom veils my flaws, but it can’t magically make the extra weight disappear. It’s all I can do not to reach for the sheet.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, his husky voice serrated. “With your curls fanning the pillow, your golden eyes soft and dreamy, and your body a treasure map of curves—if I were a poet, my words would paint you as a goddess.”

My insecurities vanish and my heart melts. “That’s all the poetry I need.”

“
You’re
all I need,” he says a moment before he cups my breasts in his hands and bends his head to lightly kiss around the outer curves in slow, narrowing circles.

Moaning, I will that hot, maddening mouth to hurry to the taut, achy centers. But Mick ignores my invitation, taking short detours to my neck and shoulders.

“I didn’t take nearly enough time to enjoy you the other night. This time, I want to taste you everywhere. Make you crazy and watch you go over.”

“I’m already crazy.”

“I wanna make you crazier.” He lifts the necklace and drags the pendant across each beckoning peak.

“
Ohh…
”

“You like that?”

“Yess.”

“And this?”

He draws one point inside his scorching mouth for a soft tug while maintaining pendulum strokes of the diamond circle over the other nipple.

“Mick!” I cry out, my hands in his hair. “That feels so good.” Like fire and ice spreading through my veins.

Everything he does turns me on. From the way he looks at me, kisses me, speaks to me, to the way he touches my body. After teasing me senseless, Mick releases the necklace and slides his mouth down the center of my torso, tasting the skin as he moves lower. The tip of his tongue rims my navel, and his wide shoulders push my legs farther apart.

“Very sexy,” he groans a moment before pressing a warm kiss to my landing strip. “Rise up on your elbows.”

Too mindless from the lashing pleasure to care or ask why, I do as he instructs and grip the sheets.

“Now watch me.”

The idea is as scintillating as it is scary. But tonight is about freeing myself to enjoy everything he has to offer. I look down my body at Mick. He’s lying halfway off the bed, his heated eyes are on me, and he licks his lips as if to say,
I’m going to eat you up.

I don’t see my size or any of my imperfections. I only see Mick…wanting me.

He hooks my legs over his shoulders and grasps my hips to cant me in place. An atavistic sound erupts from my throat the instant his tongue swipes along my slippery flesh. Drowning in sensation, I force my eyes to stay open when they would have otherwise closed. And I’m glad I do because the erotic visual of his dark head buried between my thighs, moving with the wicked swirls of his tongue spikes the thrill of what he’s doing.

For endless minutes he continues the teasing onslaught with soft flickering laps that bring me to that razor-thin edge, yet aren’t enough to get me over. I try to move, but with his hands restraining my hips, Mick has all the control.

Keening for release, my fists tighten in the sheets and I shamelessly beg him: “Mick…please…I’m so close…please let me come.”

And he does. First with a sucking kiss that sends me teetering on the brink. Then with hard, ravenous licks that finally slam me up and over.

“
Mick!
” I sob in splintering relief and still he doesn’t stop.

Our gazes locked, he plunges his tongue into my clenching channel and curls it to deftly stroke the sensitive underside of my front wall. The stimulation against my sweet spot hurtles me once more into that sexual abyss where there’s nothing but exquisite pleasure and the man tirelessly giving it to me.

My moans hoarse, my breathing choppy, I lose count of the orgasms overlapping each other as he keeps my hips confined, amplifying the intensity and urging out every last sensation. Wiped, depleted, my arms finally give out, and I flop back in a sprawl onto the bed.

Mick eases my legs off his shoulders and climbs up my body, sipping at my damp skin. Above me, his darkened gaze searches mine with a tenderness that lies beneath the suppressed goading of his lust. I know what he’s silently asking. We’re both safe and my chances of getting pregnant are practically nil. It’s a crushing reality, but I don’t have time to dwell on the sadness with Mick’s hard urgency nudging against me.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, a rock-solid ledge that holds both his strength and his grief. “I want you, Mick. Just like this.” Without any physical or emotional barriers between us.

“
Dee.
” He reaches for my wrists and capturing my hands, he interlocks our fingers and pins them over my head.

Aligning his broad tip with my sleek entrance, he pushes inside me in slow, thrilling degrees. Every bare, blistering inch of him fills my body.

His groan is long, his voice gravel-rough. “You feel so soft…so snug…so wet. You’re mine, Dee. Always mine.”

Then Mick takes my mouth and my body possessively, driving his claim home. He thrusts hard and deep, rotating his movements to create a delicious friction that strokes me from the inside out. It doesn’t take long before another orgasm brews. I anchor my legs around his waist and dig my heels into his flexing hips. Rising to meet his tempo, lifting into his smooth, precise rhythm until I’m gasping in the throes of a climax so jolting it rips something loose from my very soul.

And Mick’s right there. Increasing the pace of his thrusts, he nails me to the mattress and buries his face against my neck. Telling me between harsh breaths how beautiful I am…how nothing feels as good as this…how he can never get enough of me. That it will never be enough.

Then with one final plunge, his fingers clinch mine and holding fast, he erupts with a guttural groan, ripping another orgasm from me, more intense than the one before. It spins my head and blackens my vision. I fight to remain conscious to experience the most amazing release I’ve ever had.

Seconds later, when the aftershocks have quieted, we lay plastered together; spent. My legs still hooked around him, the pendant crushed between us, his humid breaths gusting against my throat.

“You okay, baby?” he pants.

Now I know what the French mean by an orgasm being a
little death
. “If by okay you mean alive, you’d better get a mirror to check.”

Mick grunts a chuckle and massages the life back into my bloodless hands. “That was—”

“Out of this world,” I finish for him, closing my eyes to bask in the intimate feel of having Mick nestled inside me.

“Yeah, it was.” He lifts his head and brushes his lips over my lids, the end of my nose, my mouth. “Again.”

Awed, my eyes pop open and I laugh. “You can do that again?” As a teenager, he could easily go two rounds without a break, but at thirty-three…

A devilish grin shapes his lips as he starts to harden. “With you, I can do
that
, all night long.”

“You have practice in—what? Six hours?”

“And I have you now.”

In one fluid movement, Mick rolls onto his back, pulling me with him, and he brings his mouth close to my ear. “Ride me this time.”

His decadent whisper fuels my second wind, and I get into position on my knees to straddle him.

He piles the pillows under his head, so that he’s partially inclined. “I don’t want to miss a single thing.”

Daring myself to shed all my inhibitions and be that fearless woman I long to be, I cover my right breast and knead the plump flesh while I slither the other palm down past my belly and ever so bravely slip two fingers between my legs.

“Damn,” he hisses.

Never have I done anything this bold in front of a man. But this is Mick. And his gaze intent on me is all the encouragement I need. Spreading my fingers just enough to let the nipple poke through, I pinch the elongated tip with my fingers.

“You like?” I ask with all my new found courage.

“Baby, I’m salivating.” Without taking his eyes off me, he moves his large hand down the defined planes of his abs and through the springy patch of dark hair surrounding his big, stiff cock.

I stare in fascination as the veins pulse from the rapid surge of blood. The desire that always surrounds Mick; both consuming and vital heightens my arousal. And when he makes a fist around his glistening shaft and starts a slow, steady pump, I feel like a goddess. Like the queen of the vixens, knowing I can inspire a man who is so unabashedly masculine and sexual.

My body aflame, I churn my hips, trembling as hot shudders rain through me.

“Take me inside you,” he orders in a gritty rasp, his jaw muscle ticking, the tendons in his neck cording tight. “I need to be inside you now.”

I replace his hand with mine and crawl forward. He twitches in my palm when I guide him against my folds, slick from our combined releases. The scent of lust hangs heavy in the air, making my skin flush and my breasts tingle. This craving for Mick is insane. It’s as if the multiple orgasms he’s already given me only whetted my appetite rather than appeased it.

“Dee,” he groans, clutching my hips when I rub his head across my vaginal lips and slide just the tip of him inside me. “You’re killing me.”

Hotter than I’ve ever been, I glide all the way down, taking him in as deep as any man can go. Palms pressed to his chest, I push back and forth, moving my pelvis against his in circular motions, alternating my pace from slow and languid to fast and furious, working myself into a frenzy and fucking him for all I’m worth.

“Christ. Dee.” His body temperature rises, his espresso eyes burn, and a thin sheen of sweat covers his fevered skin.

I love that I can make him unravel. Love that what I’m doing is testing the shackles of his self-imposed restraint. Crazy for him, I press my lips to his throat and suck the salty taste into my mouth. “Come for me, Mick,” I moan in ragged breaths.

With that, his control breaks. He digs his fingers into my behind and pushes upward, slamming into me, from tip to root. If I weren’t so wet, the blunt intrusions might hurt. Instead, the bite of pain is on the right side of bliss.

He leans forward to mouth my nipples, lashing them with his tongue and grazing the points with his teeth. I try to hold on, to let this be his round, but there’s no denying the licking flames that start in my center and spread full speed to my lower belly, my breasts, my limbs, engulfing me. “Oh…yes…oh…Mick.”

He presses a thumb to circle my clit and watches a hard, shattering orgasm take me apart. Then, emitting a feral growl, he yanks my hips down, racing toward his own climax. Pumping faster. Fiercer. Rougher. “I’m going to come, Dee. Come so fucking hard for you. Ahh…”

His searing release ravishes his gorgeous features and shakes his large frame until all the strength leaves him, and he collapses against the sheets. Following him down, I lay my head against his heaving chest, replete in the aftermath of hot, grinding sex.

Neither of us can seem to manage words, but they’re not necessary. Mick rolls us onto our sides, gathering me against him, holding me close while our bodies cool. Lulled by the comfort of his strong arms and the security I find there, I drift off, listening to the rhythmic cadence of his breathing.

I don’t know how long I’ve slept. But when I open my eyes, the jasmine candles have burned out and through the predawn darkness Mick’s gaze caresses my face.

His languorous hands move over me with unspeakable gentleness, and his mouth sips and savors mine.

There’s no teasing this time. No roughness. No urgency.

Mick is never predictable. I adore the many ways he coaxes my body. But this…this romantic, tender loving is what strokes my heart and nurtures it at its fragile core.