“Yes,” she admitted in a choked voice. He was studying her face, his hand wedged beneath her bent knee, rubbing that patch of sensitive skin there. He grimaced and suddenly pushed aside some of the pillows where her head and shoulders rested. Her spine straightened and her head fell onto the mattress. “There. Is that better?” he asked. She nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. “Good. Now reach for the headboard,” he instructed. “Stretch your torso tight. Your nerves will be more sensitive that way.”
Oh God. It must be true, because as she straightened and tensed her arms above her head, he stroked the back of her arms, and the side of her ribs and her breasts. She couldn’t control the shudder of pleasure that went through her.
“Why are you making me do this?” she asked breathlessly, because he was awakening her body with his hands, stroking her like he was slowly building a fire in her flesh. He caressed one breast lightly, his fingertips feathering her nipple, while his other hand stroked her sensitive, exposed side. She had a wild, savage urge to beg him to grasp the mounds in his molding, demanding hands like he had in the stable earlier, to treat her not roughly but firmly. Thoroughly. Then he opened his large hand along the back of her thigh, and he was parting her legs. He palmed a buttock.
“Because I like having you at my mercy,” he replied.
Her stare darted to his, her mouth opening to ask him what kind of answer that was. His fingertips touched her outer sex, and he was deftly penetrating her pussy with his finger.
A cry flew past her lips instead of a protest.
“Nice and warm and wet. God, you’re soft,” he muttered darkly as he watched himself pierce her. She winced, pressing back with her hips to increase the pressure. He still sat at the edge of the bed, one knee bent and resting on the mattress, his torso twisted slightly. A
lice realized hazily she was displayed like some kind of sexual buffet for him, pussy and ass in the air, her legs suspended and spread …
Naked, wet, and willing.
She bit her lip to stifle a moan at the volatile yet strangely arousing thought.
“You look incredibly beautiful, Alice,” he said, and she had the odd impression that he wasn’t just speaking of her physical beauty as his hot stare ran over her. He was talking about her pose … her nudity … her availability to him. Her pussy tightened in longing, undone by the thought.
“Oh yeah,” he grated out, thrusting his finger faster in and out of her. He’d felt her tighten in desire. “You feel so good.”
He edged closer to her on the bed, his knee bumping against the wedge pillow where she lay. One hand still moving between her legs, he opened the other over her lower belly. She wore a one-piece bathing suit to swim at camp. Her stomach and breasts were paler than the rest of her. Alice glanced down, spellbound by the sensation of his warm hand and the vision of it spread against that vulnerable expanse of pale skin. He caressed her and she trembled beneath him.
“You’re so sweet,” he praised thickly, pumping his finger in and out of her channel more forcefully. With the hand on her belly, he reached, parting her labia. He groaned, deep and rough. Alice’s head fell back on the mattress, undone by the vision of his male hunger as he stared at her exposed outer sex.
“Why do you color your hair?” he asked her tensely.
She was dizzy with arousal. She couldn’t compute his question. “I don’t,” she said thickly, thinking he’d meant she dyed her pubic hair. Her entire awareness was on what he was doing to her pussy, and she couldn’t think far past that territory.
“I mean on your head, Alice,” she heard him say with strained amusement. Distantly, she realized he knew her dark hair color wasn’t natural, because of the light brown, strawberry-tinted hair between her thighs.
“Never mind. I know. It’s because you want to blend in, isn’t it?” he asked. He rubbed the tip of his forefinger in the cleft of her labia, stimulating her clit, and she completely lost the ability to focus on conversation.
She moaned uncontrollably. She was wet between her labia, too. Burning. He applied a firm pressure against her lubricated clit, pressing and sliding and agitating until she felt a scream rising in her throat. At the same time, his knuckles bumped gently against her outer sex as he fucked her harder with his finger. She lay there, hating her helplessness and loving it at once, burning … about to reach a flashpoint at any moment.
“Are you going to come for me?” she heard Dylan say. She opened her heavy eyelids only to see him staring at her face. Her lips felt puffy and sensitive. Her cheeks must be bright red.
“Yes,” she managed shakily.
A small snarl shaped his mouth. He pushed his finger into her faster, his other forefinger stirring her clit vigorously in the juicy cleft of her labia. She sizzled. The undersides of her suspended feet burned. Her toes curled inward.
“Dylan.”
His name still burning her tongue and lips, she tilted her chin back and ignited. He pushed another finger into her. She shook in pleasure. He grunted, low and rough, and finger-fucked her hard while she came. A high-pitched wail entered her awareness, and she realized it was her own pleasure she heard like a siren pounding in her head. At the realization, she choked it off, mortified.
“Don’t hold back,” he grated out harshly. He stirred her clit faster and thrust forcefully with his fingers. Her scream broke free from her throat.
“That’s right,” she thought she heard him snarl as a fresh shudder rippled through her.
She came back to herself when he nipped at her lower lip. She opened her eyes, still panting, to see Dylan’s mouth hovering over hers. He looked quite fierce. “Don’t hold back from me, Alice. I’ll want my due. Always,” he said, before he seized her mouth with his.
His kiss was almost angry … certainly all consuming. She moaned into his mouth, both overwhelmed by the strength of his lust and hungry for it at once. He probed her mouth, making it clear his intent to plant himself deeply in her. When he sealed their kiss roughly a moment later, she was craning up for more of him. But he was pushing himself up onto his knees. She blinked at the vision of him. She hadn’t even realized he’d straddled and come down over her while she recovered from her shattering climax. His longish bangs were sexily mussed and his eyes narrowed. His jean-covered thighs looked long and strong as he knelt there. Her stare froze at his crotch. Things looked very full there.
“Don’t look at me like that, Alice.”
She blinked and met his gaze. “I wanted to play with you more, but you’re making it hard.” He slid his hand against his erection and grimaced. “Jesus,” he muttered, his gaze stuck between her thighs. He’d spread her thighs further when he’d come down over her just now, making room for his body. He put his hands on her hips. “Let’s just turn you over,” he said, his voice a rough caress. Alice turned at his urging, her breathing still choppy, her flesh still torpid and tingling from orgasm. Her belly came down on the soft suede slant of the wedge, her ass at the edge. “Now reach again with your arms,” he said from behind her, and she felt his hand glide down the stretch between her shoulder and elbow, urging her to straighten. She pressed her hot cheek to the soft duvet and panted, anxious anticipation and arousal rising in her again. “There. I want your arms to stay like that,” he said quietly from behind her. The heavy fullness behind his fly brushed fleetingly against her raised, bare ass, scattering her thoughts. Then he was sweeping his hand from her upper arm and down the length of her back. She shivered in pleasure when he stroked and then cupped a buttock.