Her Moonlit Gamble (7 page)

"Always in such a hurry," he teased, his lips still touching her nipple as he dragged one finger over her entrance. He closed his eyes for a moment against the surge of lust that made his cock harder, aching to bury himself in her. God, he wished he could be naked inside her, feel that wetness wrap around him. Maybe in a few weeks, he could make sure she was on the pill. Just the idea of being bare inside her...

He rose over her, rubbing his dick along the inside of her thigh. Her skin was so soft, all over. He lowered his mouth to hers, thinking to slow it down, but her mouth was hungry, hot, eager, her tongue sliding along his. She slid her hands up and down his arms, from elbow to his throat, before she started pushing on one shoulder.
 

His blood-deprived brain took a moment to catch on, then he stretched out obediently on his back. She leaned over him, hair falling over one shoulder, and used her nail to trace patterns on his chest, from nipple to nipple, over his abs. Christ, he'd never been harder as he waited for her meandering touch to close around his dick. He swallowed the pleas that bubbled in the back of his throat. If she kept this up, all it would take was a couple good pumps of her hand and it would be all over. Better yet, her mouth.
 

Instead of touching him, she mounted him, straddling his thighs, her sweet pussy centimeters away from his aching cock. She leaned forward to kiss him, her curls tickling the underside of his erection, her breasts flat against his chest. The kiss was light, teasing, and she sat up again. Finally, she closed her hand around his dick, pumping up and down testingly, watching the precum bead on the tip before swiping her thumb over the head. She traced her fingertips lightly around the rim of the head, down the pulsing veins, like she was studying him.

"Jesus, Jos." He couldn't keep the plea back any longer.
 

Her gaze flicked to his, her brown eyes wicked. "Do you want me to fuck you, Andrew?"

He flinched at the term. "I want you to make love to me."

She looked away, her focus on his chest, and she flicked a fingernail over one of his nipples. Then she reached past him for a condom and handed it to him. He thought about asking her to put it on him, but didn't want to risk exploding in her hand, not when he could explode inside her body.
 

Once he'd snugged the condom on, he gripped her hips, pulling her forward, over him. She went willingly, centering over him, and he guided himself to her opening. She hovered over him for a long moment, until he thought he'd have to beg, but then she took him in, deep, in one slick movement, driving a cry from him. She was so tight, so wet, so fucking gorgeous as she loomed over him, her hair wild, her breasts swaying, her hands braced on his chest.
 

Then she started to move, her inner walls squeezing, dragging along his cock that was harder than he could ever remember it being, and then he was completely inside her again, her wetness drenching him, hottest thing he could imagine, and he wanted to scream with joy. She moved again, her strokes slow and deliberate, devastating. He clung to control by the thinnest of threads, knowing she wasn't where he was, so close. And he didn't want to rush her, not when she looked so sexy above him, not when he'd fantasized about this for so long.

She glided her hands over his chest, his arms, past his hips. She hooked her fingers around his thighs and leaned back, riding him, her eyes closed, her body taut. He mimicked her caresses, her thighs, her hips, her waist, her breasts, before settling back on her hips. He couldn't help himself any longer, had to push into her, meet her strokes, needing to be as deep as he could, as long as he could. The control was slipping, and he needed to bring her with him.
 

"I want to make you come," he managed, sliding his hand over to cover her mons, his thumb dipping down, over her clit, so hot and swollen and wet. His balls tightened and he clenched his teeth, hoping that would help him hold on until he got her over.

"Yes," she managed.

He swept his touch over the tender flesh, back and forth and around until he heard her breathing stagger, her movements stutter, her pussy clench. He kept up the rhythm she had set, adding his finger to his mission, alternately plucking and stroking. Her stomach muscles tighten, her head fell back.
 

"Look at me, Joslyn. Look at me."

With effort, she brought her head up, her hands forward to grip his arms, and she met his gaze. Finally her pretty brown eyes had lost their guard, but only here, only in bed. He needed to work on that.

He saw the moment before she shattered, the second before he felt her channel spasm around him, was aware her eyes closed before he let himself follow her over the edge.
 

He was still pulsing inside her when she collapsed forward, her hair stroking his skin, her mouth moving leisurely over his chest, adding another layer to his pleasure. He wrapped his arms around her, and felt like he was on top of the world.

***

Joslyn sat on the bed, one leg curled in front of her, and watched him sleep. He was pretty adorable, there on his back, one arm crooked under the pillow, the other splayed across his chest, the sheet riding low across his hips, giving her a glimpse of his pubic hair. Holding her breath--like that would make a difference--she lifted the sheet and folded it back to look at him in all his glory. .
 

Even at rest, his cock was impressive, thick and heavy against his thigh. She thought about the old wives' tale about the size of a man's hands. With Andrew it proved true.
 

Then, as if it knew it was being watched, it twitched and lengthened. Joslyn almost panicked and covered him back up before he woke and saw her staring, but another, bolder part of herself had another idea. Carefully, so she wouldn't disturb the mattress or the bedding, she stretched out beside him. She scooped her hair back over her shoulder and lightly kissed his shoulder. He made a sound in his sleep and she froze, but when he didn't wake, she continued across the cap of muscle, down his hard, smooth chest.
 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his penis stiffen and rise. She licked his nipple, no longer worried that she might wake him up, then continued down over those magnificent abs, the bulge of muscle above his hip bone, skimming her lips across his groin, just above his hairline. He tensed, and she knew he was awake, but she kept going, pretending she didn't. She curved her hand around his cock and lifted it toward her. She breathed in his scent a moment, musky, with a hint of her own scent mingled in. They hadn't showered last night, but fallen into bed and collapsed. Maybe they could take a shower later.
 

He made a sharp sound as she dragged her tongue over the head of his cock, savoring the texture against her tongue, circling and flicking and tasting the bead of pre-cum that appeared. Then she parted her lips around him and slid down, her tongue caressing the underside, straining to reach the base of his shaft. Her lips stretched, and he filled her mouth. He lifted his hips off the bed just a little, pushing deeper until she was afraid she might gag, so she pulled back. He curved his hand around the back of her head and pushed again, more gently, hitting the back of her throat. She wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock and sucked deeply, dragging her lips up the length of him before sliding back down. He moaned and shifted and she moved faster, her strokes more sure, taking him as deeply as she dared, feeling his balls tighten beneath her hand.

"I'm going to come," he rasped, a warning, but she continued her rhythm and...

He filled her mouth in long, hot spurts and she swallowed, working her tongue along the bottom of his shaft as she did, draining every ounce of pleasure from him before finally straightening and looking down at him with a cocky grin.
 

"Your hair woke me up," he said, reaching up to stroke it back from her face.

"My hair?"
 

"Against my skin. Soft and sexy as hell." He blinked slowly, sleepily.
 

Sexily. Never a word she thought she'd use to describe Andrew.
 

And then suddenly he wasn't sleepy anymore. In one fluid move, he sat up, parted her legs and knocked her onto her back, looming over her, his hands braced on either side of her hips.

"So. My turn to play now?"

She tried to close her knees, impossible with his chest in the way. She squirmed as he leered down at her. "I want to shower first."

"Sounds like a plan."

And suddenly he was on her feet and she was upside down over his shoulder, her hair trailing the carpet as he marched out of the bedroom toward the bathroom.

"You always have this much energy in the morning?" she grumbled when he set her down next to the sink and turned on the shower.

He looked over his shoulder at her. "Only when I get a blow-job first thing."

"Har," she said, but then he straightened and kissed her, a carnal kiss that went straight to her pussy, all tongue and heat and promises.
 

"You'll get your turn," he said, inclining his head toward the shower. "But one morning, know I'm going to wake you up just the same way."

She wanted to say they didn't have many mornings left, but the words wouldn't leave her throat. He stepped into the shower and reached a hand to her. She took it and he tugged her inside. He took a wash cloth, wet it, and soaped it up, then dragged the soft cloth over her skin, shoulder to shoulder, down over her breasts, cupping each one and placing a kiss on each nipple before he reached between her legs and smoothed the cloth over her tender skin.
 

"Spread your legs," he urged, then turned and pulled the shower head down, adjusting the pulse before aiming it between her legs.

She squealed and braced her hand on his shoulder as the pulses drummed on her clit, on her pussy, hot and arousing, like nothing she'd ever felt before. She placed one foot on the edge of the tub to open herself wider. Andrew knelt before her, looking at her intimate flesh in a way that should have embarrassed her, but only aroused her further.
 

"Show me where you want it," he said huskily, pressing the handle into her hand.
 

At first, she wasn't sure what to do, but the need for pleasure outweighed her embarrassment and she aimed the strongest pulse on her clit. He hummed his approval, and pressed two fingers into her, stroking inside her channel, drawing her wetness down, then leaning close and licking his fingers clean.

Her nipples grew hard at the sight and she lifted the water to caress her breasts before returning it between her legs.
 

"Could you come like this?" he asked, his fingers inside her again, stroking her, stretching her.
 

She shook her head.
 

"You want my mouth?"

She nodded mindlessly, wanting to drag his head forward and press it to her pussy, to feel his tongue flick on her clit. "I'm close."

He took the shower head from her and let it drop to the bottom of the tub, then pressed a closed-lipped kiss to her clit, humming against it, the vibration scattering her nerves. Just when she thought she might come just from that, he snaked his tongue out and glided it over her wet, swollen flesh, caressing rhythmically, drawing the swollen bud toward his lips, where he sucked lightly before licking again.
 

She hovered on the edge--suspected he kept her on the edge on purpose. He pushed two fingers deep inside her and she came, hard, pumping her hips against his mouth, until her legs went weak. She slid down the wall to the floor of the tub and peered up at him through her lashes as he put the shower head back in place, shut it off and filled the tub instead. His long legs barely fit as he lowered himself across from her and traced a line on her hip with his toe.
 

"You look ready to go back to sleep," he teased.

She actually hated that his orgasm fired him up while hers wore her out. She let her eyes drift shut as the water eddied about her. "What time is our flight back to Oahu?"

"We need to leave in about an hour."

They had dinner plans with Elizabeth and Max tonight. Elizabeth, one of her best friends for years, knew her too well for her to be able to keep this thing between her and Andrew a secret. Until she knew what would happen once they got home, she wanted to keep what was between them, well, between them.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"You look amazing," Elizabeth greeted Joslyn with a kiss on the cheek when Andrew and Joslyn arrived at Max's cottage that evening. Max lived a few miles inland on Oahu, in a quiet neighborhood.
 

Joslyn could have said the same about her friend. She couldn't believe this relaxed, barefoot woman was the same person she had to hide a cell phone from just a few months ago, so Elizabeth wouldn't work herself to death on her vacation. She stepped inside the simple living room with a plush sofa and a wide chair, a small television and a shelf lined with surfing trophies, which Andrew was drawn to.
 

Elizabeth led the way into an open kitchen, where she had pitchers and glasses, as well as a tray of fruit. "I have sangria and mango iced tea, with real mangos, not the fake stuff. Max is going to grill, so I hope everyone here is a carnivore." She flashed a smile at Andrew, who'd moved up behind Joslyn and rested a hand on her hip.

Elizabeth stared at the hand and her eyebrows went up as she looked at her friend. Okay, so maybe she and Andrew should have talked about public displays, at least until Joslyn figured out how to tell Elizabeth on her own. She lifted her own eyebrows, hoping Elizabeth would get the message that they'd talk later.
 

"There's beer in the cooler on the deck. Max is back there getting the grill going," Elizabeth said meaningfully.
 

Andrew stepped back with a grin in Joslyn's direction. "You''re going to talk about me?"

Joslyn shifted and concentrated really hard on that tray of fruit. "No."