His Kind of Perfect (Sugar Bay #1) (11 page)

Because before long, like a horse
whisperer, he gentled her, he soothed her to the point that instead of running,
he made her ache for more, yearn for more, more contact, more of whatever came
next.

For him.

He was that good.

After Etta, Billie came on and between the
soulful music, the gentle handling, and the liquid courage she’d consumed, she
found herself floating in his embrace. They swayed as one, never traveling far
from their starting position.

A perfect spot on his chest beckoned and
she nuzzled close. He pressed her head more firmly against him. She inhaled the
clean scent of man, musk and peppermint. She smiled; he must have snuck in a
mint while she hid in the bathroom. She closed her eyes, wanting to savor the
feel of his arms around her.

The rhythmic click of the ceiling fan
accompanied a breeze. He must have opened the storm shutters because the faint
sounds of street life drifted from below. She made out the masculine planes of
his face and wondered how often he shaved. She detected a hint of stubble and
wondered if she’d get to feel it against her body. She shivered, her nipples hard.

He pulled back and smiled at her, his smile
wicked as if he was fully aware of her thoughts and wholeheartedly wanted the
same thing.

It was really happening.

She shivered again and discovered that brushing
her aching nipples against his chest felt really, really good. So she did it
again, just to make sure she hadn’t imagined the sensation.

She hadn’t.

His big body shuddered against hers so she
stopped and pulled back, no longer touching his chest. She didn’t want to hurt
him, but could she do it? Could she go through with this experiment and let him
seduce her, tutor her? Would she be able to satisfy him?

“Come here.” He pulled her closer, as if sensing
her uncertainty again. “I can hear you thinking. Stop thinking.” He rubbed her
back. “Relax,” he whispered in her ear.

The hot drift of his breath grazed her
cheeks and left her shivering. Once more, the gentling of Anabelle began. Billie
Holiday had taken a break and a French lady serenaded them with her smoky voice.
Anabelle had no idea what she sang about, she could have sung about the chore
of walking her dog and cleaning up poo. It didn’t matter because anything in
French sounded sexy.

Anabelle sank deeper into his arms and
pressed close against the hard evidence of his attraction.

Very
nice.

Gavin had never reacted this way in close
proximity. It was a novel sensation to feel a man’s desire so she brushed
against him once more and watched the fabric of her dress get caught on the jut
of his erection. His groan rumbled in his chest, sending an electric sensation down
her spine.

Was this how men and women normally
interacted?

His hand burned through her dress as if the
fabric had disintegrated and left them skin-to-skin. She looked into his eyes
and swallowed at the carnal intent she found there.

The idea both thrilled and terrified her.
She shifted closer, her legs tangled with his. The desire to explore this very strange
anomaly known to others as a male erection was strong so she pressed her lower
body against his. The grinding motion was new but exciting.

“Jesus,” he breathed. “Easy, sweetheart.”

She smiled. Closing her eyes, she savored
this new feeling. His obvious desire for her was heady and the last thing she
wanted to do would be to take it easy. She’d never been wanted with such
urgency and the feeling inspired in her a frantic need to touch, to rub, to
explore. Her hands couldn’t stay still.

“Be sure you know what you’re doing,” he warned.
He sounded pained but she sensed he’d let her play, at least for a little while
despite his grumbling. He had to know this was all new to her.

Derek lowered his head, brushed her hair
back with his chin. The sharp stubble of his cheek rubbed against her neck with
each breath he took.

“You smell good.” He inhaled deeply, as if
he wanted to consume her and she groaned her head rolled back, inviting his
pleasure. She felt the brush of his lips once, twice at a sensitive point where
her neck and shoulders met. She shivered and clutched him closer.

“Derek,” she whispered, the tone of their
dance had changed.

He didn’t reply. Instead he nibbled along
her neck and sent the fine hairs along her arms to stand at attention.

Their movements had slowed to a barely
noticeable sway. She raised slumberous eyes to his and watched while his heavy
lidded gaze tracked her features. His hands stroked her face. One hand gripped
her chin while the other tangled through her hair. He brought his mouth to hers
and she fell into his kiss, clinging to his chest while their mouths mated,
each seeking a better angle in which to inhale the other until at last, they
fell apart, desperate for air.

They stared at the other without speaking,
the harsh sound of their breathing mixed with Etta crooning once more. Derek
tugged the button of her halter until the sundress loosened, making access to
her nipple possible. His hands were rough but she gasped at the feel of his
wet, warm mouth as he tugged, licked and sucked the hardened tip into submission.

“Jesus, Anabelle, I want you so much,” he
muttered against her nipple, before attacking its twin. With urgent hands, he unzipped
the dress, and tugged it until it puddled on the floor.

He backed her towards the couch and sat
down. And while she teetered in high heels before him, he jerked her panties
down. The sound of her panties ripping made him wince. “Sorry, babe. I’ll buy
you more,” he said and urged her to step out of the ruined lingerie. “Come
here.”

He pulled her forward to stand between his
knees. He pressed hot kisses to her stomach, nuzzled, sucked and nibbled on her
flesh, unmindful of the softness she abhorred. He progressed lower and inhaled.
She pushed away, embarrassed at the evidence of her arousal and how wet she was.
Gavin had once told her it was gross.

“No.” He widened his knees and pulled her
forward, refusing to let her go. “Delicious,” he murmured. He inhaled deeply
and nuzzled against her wet flesh.

“Oh God,” she muttered but there was no
indication he’d heard as focused as he was. He parted the slippery folds and
leaned in. Her knees felt weak, as if they would buckle and he seemed to sense
it, urging her forward.

“Put one leg up here.” He patted the spot
next to him and she obeyed. The position opened her up and he murmured his
approval. “So pretty, Anabelle.”

Naked as the day she was born except for
the sassy sandals she wore, she stood before him. Instead of embarrassment at
the lewd position, the hunger in his voice enthralled her, made her feel
powerful. With his big hands he held her thighs. He looked up to meet her gaze.

“You might want to hold on.”

She slid her fingers through his hair and
before she could find a grip, he leveled his first assault on her delicate
flesh. Her moan came from somewhere deep within her, somewhere she hadn’t known
existed.

He was good.

Very good.

Stupendous.

Her head fell back as he devoured her hot
flesh,
moaning and savoring her as if he couldn’t get enough,
as if the love juices she produced were honey. There was no quick peck and buss,
the technique Gavin had employed. With his fingers, mouth and tongue, Derek
consumed her while she trembled, panted and groaned.

“Ah fuck,” escaped her lips and he doubled
his efforts as if the sound of her potty mouth inspired him. He was greedy for
her and wasn’t satisfied until she shivered and moaned and screamed her
pleasure so the neighbors could hear.

Only then did he let her rest. Only then
did he allow her to collapse beside him, her body spent and shaking,
her
voice hoarse from the strain. Only then did he smooth
away her involuntary spasms, murmuring, doing his Anabelle whispering thing he
did so well, telling her how sweet she was, how much he wanted her, and how he
knew she could take more.

He rearranged her on the leather sofa,
kissed his way up her body, paused at her breast where he palmed them, took
their measure before taking nuzzling her and taking her nipple into his mouth.
The powerful suction along with the wet length of his tongue and the sharp
sting of his teeth created an erotic combination that had her bucking against
him spouting nonsense.

“Stop,” she whispered then hated when he
obeyed. She pulled him back. “Don’t stop.” She felt his smile against her
breast before he doubled his efforts. She moaned, her body twisting on the
sofa, her back arched trying to find a better fit against him. “More…please.”
She couldn’t believe the sound of her voice. It was throaty, seductive almost,
completely opposite from the norm. But after her come to Jesus moment, she
shouldn’t be surprised.

She grasped his head and wallowed in his
considerable skills. Tomorrow, she’d repent in leisure but tonight…tonight was
more than she’d expected. It was more than she’d had in her thirty-eight years.
Whether her heart could stand the pleasure was debatable but she would try.

He moved onto her neck and scraped the
length with his teeth. He nibbled and sucked until she was sure he left marks. Explaining
them to Charlie would take creative sidestepping
but,
she didn’t care.

“Fuck me already.”

He chuckled at her demand but ignored her he
was busy playing. He moved to where her neck and shoulder joined, intent on
more torture but Anabelle rolled off the couch and fell to her knees in front
of him. She tore at his button fly. The urgency made her fingers clumsy. It was
frustrating but success came when he pushed her hand away and completed the
task himself.

At last, he shoved his jeans and boxers down
his thighs. His thick cock sprang free.
Have
mercy
. She sighed and sank between his thighs.

“Yes, please,” she said and nuzzled the hard
steel as she’d longed to do for some time.

His chuckle morphed into a groan and he cut
her playtime short, pulling her up. “Not this round, Anabelle.”

Her moue of displeasure changed when she
heard a condom rip. Never had she been more grateful for his foresight because
protection hadn’t occurred to her.

She watched him, his movements inherently
graceful as he rolled on the latex. She bit her lip, as he pumped himself once,
squeezing the tip for control.

Derek urged her over his lap. She placed a
knee on either side of his hips and hovered, wanting to slide deep but waiting,
because it had been a long time. He gripped her hips, rubbed his cock back and
forth at her drenched entrance while spasms of pleasure shot through her body.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head at the play and he wasn’t yet inside
her. The need to grind against him was instinctive. After what seemed like an
eternity, he lowered her body onto his.

“Easy now.” He tightened his grip when she
struggled to go deeper, faster. “I’m big and I don’t want to hurt you.”

She moaned at the invasion. The fullness.
The delicious friction.
“Oh my…Derek.”

At last he was in all the way and she felt
him, really felt him
which
was strange because Gavin had
never been this hard and she had never been so wet. It had never felt like
this.

She wanted to move and had to bite back the
need. She may have rocked forward once, maybe twice, because he groaned.

“You okay?” He gripped the back of her head
and forced her gaze to his.

“I think so,” she said although if she were
any more okay, he’d have to rush her to the emergency clinic. She shuddered,
her nipples brushed against his chest and the sensation caused her eyes to roll
to the back of her head again.

Whatever he saw in her expression must have
appeased him because he thrust up and at the same time, he pulled her down. The
force made her moan and he did it again, rolling his hips. He increased the
pace, controlled the depth and angle of insertion while she matched each
movement. Each thrust brought her closer to the edge, to that elusive moment
that suspended before her.

His mouth sought hers. Together they
licked, sucked and bit, each hungry for more while their bodies battled for
pleasure. Anabelle pulled back and locked gazes with him. She took in his
flared nostrils, the arousal that stained his cheekbones, and the intensity
that burned in his gaze. The big, bad wolf was hungry and didn’t bother hiding
it.

He tilted her so she fell on her side, sprawled
on the leather. “I’ve got you.” With one leg anchored on the floor for leverage,
he adjusted his angle and thrust harder, increasing their rhythm to a frantic
pace.

“So good.” She moaned, twisted her body so
she could find a grip to push back against him.

She gasped as he changed his angle. “Ahhh.”
The pressure against her clit increased.

“Harder, don’t stop.”

And he didn’t. He didn’t stop until a
shattering pleasure contracted from deep inside her, radiating from her core to
her limbs and beyond. The hard, pulsing grasp of her inner muscles set off his
orgasm and his groan rivaled hers. The convulsive spasms of his hips extended
her pleasure and made her grind against him, setting off another round of
pleasure.