Beckett let out a long, quiet moan, and his eyes fluttered closed with an expression of such bliss, he pulled Eden that direction too. Her body tingled with anticipation. Her lips parted, but her throat tightened, and no sound emerged.
The feel of a man’s hand on her, this man’s hand on her, in the middle of a crowded bar, yet in secret, was so many things at once, she couldn’t define them all. Naughty. Decadent. Thrilling. And the way he opened his eyes and held her gaze added an intensely intimate element that made her feel both exposed and safe at the same time.
“Fuck…” he whispered. “You’re so soft.” Then his fingers stroked, and she gasped at the erotic sensation. A low laugh rolled through his throat, the sound more wicked than humorous. “And so wet.”
Her breath whooshed out on a shaky sound.
“Do you like me touching you?” he asked.
“God, yes.”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this since we met. And it’s even better than I imagined. Have you thought of me, Eden?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
His fingers slid over her again, and Eden’s breath caught.
“Focus, Eden. Tell me what you thought about me.”
“I…thought about kissing you.” He continued to stroke her, slowly, intimately, moving a little deeper with each pass. Damn, she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. “About…undressing you. Touching you. Tasting you. Fucking you.”
She didn’t even know what she was saying. His fingers created tingles and pressure and heat that made Eden rabid.
“What about going down on you?” he asked in a rough whisper. “Did you imagine my mouth on you, my tongue inside you?” His eyes fell closed in a look of pure pleasure. His jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared. The sight shot fire through Eden’s veins. “Mmm, because if we were alone, I’d wrap your thighs around my head and eat you until you begged for relief.”
“Holy shit…” she breathed. “Beck…”
She was too breathless to finish his name. How in the hell had he taken her to the edge of orgasm in, what? Five minutes? Ten minutes? With nothing but dirty talk and touching? His fingers pushed inside, just a little, but he stretched her, and the burn was deliciously breathtaking.
“God…” Her body coiled tighter and tighter. Pleasure spiraled higher and higher.
“Tell me what you want, Eden. I’ll deliver.”
She was overwhelmed with desire. The kind that made her forget everything else. The kind that made people stupid. The kind she hadn’t felt in so long, she hadn’t believed herself capable of feeling it ever again.
“I don’t… I can’t… Never felt anything so good.”
“You haven’t felt my mouth on you yet. You haven’t felt me filling you yet. You haven’t felt me driving into you yet. You haven’t felt me making you come over and over and over yet.”
Unable to find or form words, Eden whimpered.
“There are so many amazing things I want to make you feel.”
“Yes,” was all she managed to breathe. “God, yes.” She was using all her willpower to keep herself still. She was already light years beyond her comfort zone. She’d never even considered doing anything this wild. “Where?”
“I think we should start right here.” He lifted his head, pressed his forehead to hers, and murmured, “You’re so close, it wouldn’t take but another minute to send you into the clouds. Then you can cross ‘finger fucked to perfection in a crowded bar’ off your bucket list.”
When a half laugh stuttered out of her, Beckett leaned in and kissed her, long and slow. His fingers pushed deep. Pressure spread through Eden’s pussy. Pleasure tightened her stomach. Then he adjusted and pushed even deeper, until his hand pressed against her body and his thumb lay over her clit. A sound rolled from Eden’s throat into Beckett’s mouth. A sound of wild erotic pleasure.
As Beckett continued to kiss her with the mastery of Casanova, his fingers moved against the front wall of her pussy, and his thumb rubbed her clit. One move might have led her slowly to the edge of orgasm and tipped her over, but both, while he fucked her mouth with his, completely swamped her with more sensation, more pleasure, more excitement than she’d ever known. And all Eden could do was hold on to him and hope like hell she didn’t completely shame herself in public. But this pleasure was so intense and so essential in the moment, she didn’t even care enough to worry about it.
When Eden broke their kiss to catch her breath, Beckett slipped his other hand beneath her hair, pulled her head to his shoulder and her face to his neck. She needed to lift and rock and writhe, but Beckett’s forearm determinedly held her still while he delivered the slowest, deepest, most minimal fingering Eden had ever known. One she would never have guessed could have delivered such all-encompassing pleasure.
“Beckett…” She panted, her mind fragmented. “Please…”
“Does it feel good?” he murmured at her ear, his free hand clasped on the back of her neck in a possessive, controlling gesture that, strangely, didn’t bother her. “Do you like my fingers inside you?”