London Lace #1 by Catou Martine Read Free Book Online

waist, away from him, so that he could see her wet slit. He growled with pleasure. She found the wallet, the condom in an inside pocket. She didn’t linger over questions about how many he might carry, or how often. There would be time for thoughts, and talks, like that later.
    There was a movement on the bed. He was shifting, sighing and moaning. He hadn’t finished without her, had he? Before she knew what was happening she felt his tongue drive into her exposed opening. She nearly fell forward, but with one hand, he held her hips steady. He pulled her to his face, burying himself there, lapping voraciously. Her legs trembled with a building climax. When he fingered her, she thought she might collapse right there. She ripped open the condom, stood, wobbling slightly, and turned.
    He lay upside down on the bed. “Climb over me and put it on.” She moved to one side to do just that. “No. Right over me. I need to taste you again.” She put a knee on either side of the bed. He lifted his head slightly to suck at her folds. She melted at the touch of his tongue, started quivering and shaking, but she moved past him quickly, straddled his stomach facing away from him and pulled the condom over his length. With her clit pressed against his stomach she feared she would come too soon. She wanted to come with him inside her.
    With the condom on, she flipped around so that she was straddling him and facing him again, with his head still at the end of the bed. She lifted up slightly and guided him into her, slowly at first. He was opening her, opening her up to his size and his heat and his desire. His hips rolled forward, trying to go deeper, but she was in charge of the progress. She lifted a tiny bit, so that he slid back. He moaned and reached for her nipples, twisting them both at the same time.
    She worked her way down his full length. When their pubic bones met, she stilled herself, looked deep into his eyes, and smiled. He matched her smile, his blue eyes boring into hers, that look of pain again, at the edges of his gaze. He grabbed her hips with both hands and pushed even deeper into her, though they were already bone to bone. “Eliza,” he whispered. And then he closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and started rocking his hips.
    She let herself be rocked, then she extended down over his chest to put her hands on either side of his face and she kissed him deeply. His tongue wrapped around hers. His hands left her hips and she felt his fingers in her hair, pressing her face hard into his, their lips the only tender meeting place, while his hips bucked under her. She came up for air, kissed his neck, his chest, and sat upright again. She ground against him, an orgasm rising like a tsunami from deep within. She rode him in arcing, undulating motions until her knees were weak. He thrust harder and faster, his breaths ragged. She let him lift her hips and drive her down against him faster and faster, harder and harder, and she knew he would explode soon, deep inside her. She felt her orgasm sharpening, focusing, building to such an intensity, her eyes started to squeeze shut. She tried to keep her eyes open, to look at him, as he stared at her, but the sensations were too overwhelming. 
    Then his thumb slid across her hip and over her pussy until it pressed against the nub of her clit, and she cried out, high-pitched and abandoned, blind with pleasure and rocketing into some ether world. He was with her, panting and moaning. He held her tight to him while she rocked and swirled in her own private ecstasy. She felt him tense, heard his breath catch in his throat, and then he burst with a last deep thrust, and then another not quite so deep, and another, followed by a shudder and a deep tender sigh. She balanced on top of him, her waves of pleasure gently rising and receding, as he continued to pulse and slowly soften within her. She curled back down to his chest, kissed his throat, his ear, his temple, his chin, finally