the petite crimson rose with his fingertips.
The fluttering of a million butterfly wings played havoc in her stomach as Whip drew his finger lower to her cleft, circled her sensitive nub, and pushed his finger inside to explore her inner heat.
He separated the soft petals of her womanhood with his thumbs, exposing her clit and inner folds. A hot puddle of need, she welcomed his touch.
“God, Jessie Rose, you’re positively glistening, just like you described.”
A tingling mass of nerve endings, she hadn’t felt this turned on in eons, if ever. He’d been explicit in his e-mails and so had she, but actually hearing the words said in his sexy accent, and the awe in his tone made her believe it was true.
“I’ve just got to taste you.” As he spoke, he took his fingers from her pussy and brought them to his mouth.
She had no control over her traitorous body and felt the moisture pool at her center as he tasted her dew.
“Mmm, mighty fine.”
With a burning need, she plucked at the buttons of his shirt, slipping them open. He glanced up, treating her to his dazzling smile, so warm and shining. Although it was raining outside, it was like the sun had come out in their room, bathing her in a golden glow. She smiled back and peeled the shirt from shoulders, broad and sun bronzed to a deep tan. Her fingers trailed across his pecks, then tweaked a nipple before sliding down the inside of his jeans.
He caught her hand. “No, honey, this is all about you. I want to concentrate on you, make you come first.” He pushed her legs apart, widening her stance with gentle persuasion.
Before she could protest, he’d parted her folds and put his mouth to her pussy, lapping her sex, turning her on. She gasped, clutching his shoulders for support, her legs wobbly, threatening to give way.
His tongue felt so good she was reluctant to move, but she didn’t want to end up in an unceremonious heap on the floor either. “Whip, I’m going to fall.”
In one quick motion, he tumbled her onto the bed and draped her legs over his shoulders, leaving her spread wide and vulnerable. Quick as a thought, his mouth was back on her pussy. His spiky moustache caressed and teased, each tiny hair a prickle of sensation, a jolt of pleasure.
A diaphanous mist of pure bliss drifted over her as he licked and stroked her with his talented tongue. She’d never had a man with facial stubble go down on her before. Normally it would take her a while to get there, but the absence of her own body hair and the combination of his spiky moustache heightened and intensified the pleasure to such a degree it caught her unawares and she came with a scream.
Jessie Rose’s vociferous orgasm had Whip so hard he could punch in nails. He kept lapping, loving the flavor of her as residual tremors shook her body. God, she tasted good, sweet and soothing, like vanilla ice cream on a hot day. A taste he’d never tire of.
As she relaxed, he lifted his head and crawled up her body. “You taste so fine, Jessie Rose, I could do that all day long and never get tired.” He picked up her hand and pressed her palm against his denim-encased steel erection. “That’s the effect you have on me.”
Her hand cupped his groin, and she gave him a playful squeeze. “You promised me a ride, Cowboy, and it’s time to deliver.” She flipped him onto his back, unzipped his jeans, and with more haste than care shoved them and his briefs down his thighs.
His erection sprung up with a life of its own.
“My God, Whip, you weren’t lying, you are hung like a randy stallion. That thing’s huge!”
The amused glint in her eye heated his blood, and he imagined he must be coloring up like an overripe tomato. When he’d written all that shit during their sex play, he’d never envisaged for an instant they’d go toe-to-toe. But he hadn’t lied. The McGregor men were renowned for the size of their equipment.
He’d no sooner toed off his second boot when she straddled him.