“You,” she whispered.
“That’s right.” He traced the perimeter of her lips with a gentle finger. “This mouth is mine now, Reckless, whether you kiss me with it or not.”
Chapter Sixteen
A desire for lemonade and a change of clothes on his ice-cream date’s part ended with West lying across Roxy’s unmade bed, enjoying an orgasm-induced endorphin rush brought on by helping her ride him to a tit-bouncing, mattress groaning, West-West-ohmigod-West climax. They hadn’t yet gotten around to the refreshment or change of clothes—unless getting naked counted as a change—but he didn’t think she minded. When her final spasm hugged his shaft, she whimpered and wilted over him. He savored that for a moment, too—her face against his neck, the soft weight of her breasts on his chest, his hands still kneading her now calm ass.
Eventually, she sighed and pushed herself onto her arms so she could look down at him in drowsy-eyed satisfaction. “Can I interest you in some lemonade now?”
He gave her butt a final squeeze and then pinched the base of his cock to hold the condom in place. “I wouldn’t say no.”
“One lemonade coming right up.”
“Take your time. I’m in no rush.”
With her hands braced on either side of his head, she slowly leaned forward. Her eyelids fluttered and her cheeks flushed from the sensations of withdrawal, but when he slipped out entirely, she closed her eyes and bit her lip.
Immediately, he pressed his palm to her center. “Sore?”
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head but didn’t open her eyes. “Just…adjusting. I can’t explain.”
He slid two fingers inside her—barely penetrating—and stroked. “Better?”
She tipped her head back a notch, and her cheeks turned a shade pinker. “Yes.”
“You need a little more attention here?” He stroked
her a bit faster, but no deeper. “A better exit strategy?”
“I do.” Her hips found the pace. “I think. Just a little more.”
“Because you miss me when I’m not inside you?”
“I don’t know. I can’t ex—”
“You can’t explain. Right. How about if I explain something to you, Rox? I missed being inside you all day.” He stroked faster, penetrated a degree deeper. Watched her start to fight for the finish. “At one point this afternoon, I missed it so hard I climbed back into bed and jacked off to your scent and my memories of how it got all over my sheets.”
“Oh, god.” She rocked against his palm in a series of short, rapid surges, each accompanied by its very own “Oh, god.” Her body twitched, inside and out, and then her breath burst from her lungs in a sudden release. This time he stayed with her as she came down, bestowing increasingly lighter, shallower touches until she murmured, “Mercy,” and flopped onto the mattress beside him. A second later she turned his way, all flushed and glowing. “That’s quite an exit strategy you got there, Officer Donovan.”
“Just one of many.”
He almost laughed when her eyes went wide. “How many?”
“I’m not at liberty to divulge.” He folded his arms behind his head and smiled at the ceiling. “You’ll have to stick around for a while to find out.”
“More than three?”
He shrugged. “Did someone mention lemonade a few minutes ago?”
“Hands, mouth, dick. How could it possibly be more than three?”
“Hmm? Could be I utilize…let’s call them accessories…from time to time. Man, I could go for a cool, refreshing drink.”
“Accessories? What kind of… Hey.” Her face popped into his line of vision. “Are you implying I might get handcuffed at some point?”
Well, now she definitely would, thanks to the flicker of interest in her eyes when she posed the question. “I don’t kiss and tell. But I will say just thinking about it works up a powerful…”
“Hard-on?”