Captivated (Stranded) by Mia West Read Free Book Online Page B

already responded to well, was to nip him with her teeth.
    She did, not hard, but distinctly enough that his hand came back and pressed her head against him.
    After a few seconds, she sat back and resumed washing him, loving how his musculature flexed as he worked to maintain his balance. His cleft was dark, intriguing, and the urge to smooth her fingertip (her nose, her tongue) down into it was strong. But she wasn’t sure how he’d react, so she contented herself with a thorough washing, pushing up from his thigh on each side with enough force to part his cheeks a few times. At some point her free hand moved down to the front of his thigh. He trembled under it.
    She lavished attention on the backs of his legs, enjoying how her motions plastered his dark body hair, which eventually sprang back to its natural whorls. His calves felt tight, and here she temporarily set down her cloth to press her thumbs into his muscle, right leg, then left. He lifted each in turn to help her, putting the fingertips of one hand on her shoulder for balance. She worked down to his ankles, then his feet, and then she couldn’t wait any longer. She fished the cloth from the pool and moved to kneel in front of him.
    If his cock had been unsure before, it was all systems go now. It jutted at her, thick in the shadow of his body. Placing a hand on his buttock, she scrubbed the fronts of his legs, shins to knees to thighs, eye to eye with his cock, until she could reasonably claim that its turn had come. She looked up to find Evan staring at her, a deep crease between his brows, his jaw ticking.
    “Soap?” she asked.
    He swallowed. “I dropped it,” he said, his voice soft and raw.
    She swept the surface of the pool until she found it, a smooth bar with a bergamot scent. She used it to build a rich lather on her bare hands.
    She touched him.
     

Chapter 7
     
    Evan grabbed her head with both hands. It was either that or fall over. He jerked his hands back to his sides as soon as he thought he could stay upright on his own. As much as he hoped she might (someday, please, maybe now, or later, whatever) put her mouth on him, he didn’t want her to think he would force her.
    But God, her fingers. It was like they were everywhere at the same time. Slicking his dick from root to tip. Sliding around his balls. Slipping into his pubes and pulling tight. Until now he had been able to pretend (almost, sort of) that this was just a really great bath, a little frisky but mostly Laine saying thanks for letting her stay in his place (in his bed). But not now. This went beyond thanks. He’d never demand it, that was for sure. And she knew what she was doing. He guessed if you studied sexy shit all day, you picked up some pointers.
    But it wasn’t just that she knew her way around. He was pretty sure she was enjoying herself, and in ways she might not even realize, like how her mouth was hanging open a little and she was rubbing her breast on his leg. Even in the moonlight he could see her nipples pushing against her shirt. No bra, of course not, she’d come from bed (his bed) and hadn’t even put her skirt on. He couldn’t see them very well, and now they were soaked from kneeling in the pool, but her panties looked exactly right, pretty and practical like her. He was going to peel those panties off, and he was going to take his sweet fucking time about it, but not right now. Not until she had finished working whatever magic she had in mind.
    He stepped his legs apart in case her magic needed more room.
    She looked up at him. She winked.
    His knees almost buckled.
    With both hands, she surrounded him in a whole-dick grip, then slid her soapy hands toward her. Again she did it, and again. Then she kept one at his base and used her other thumb to circle the sensitive spot under his head. His balls tightened in response. He breathed out slow and deep, willing them to drop, to stay where she could get to them. She didn’t wait for them and went looking,