French Kiss Part 20

"Do we have to go upstairs?" she whispered, shuddering against him.

"I'd rather. Can you wait?"

"I don't know." Her voice was barely audible.

"Give me three minutes," he whispered, and knowing he could move faster than she, he scooped her up in his arms. Crossing the garden in long strides, he moved toward the back of the house at top speed. Had they remained on the veranda, they might be interrupted.

And he didn't want that.

At least not until morning-late morning now, thanks to Vernie's shopping trip.

In record time he was entering Queen Victoria's bedroom. Kicking the door shut, he'd barely turned the key in the lock with the tips of his fingers when she panted, "I don't think I can wait any longer."

"One second."

"OhmyG.o.d," she breathed, not sure she could hold back the tide.

"Wait-wait," he whispered, moving to the bed in two swift strides, dropping her on her back, unzipping his fly, pushing her skirt up, and spreading her legs. Stripping off her panties in a blur, he climbed between her legs, and a second after that he was buried to the max right where they both wanted him to be.

His eyes shut tight against the agonizing jolt of pleasure.

She clung to him as though she were drowning-feeling him inside and outside with every ripe and ready, tingling, pulsating nerve in her body. His heart was pounding as wildly as hers. "Again, again,please!" she begged. There was no question whether she could accommodate him completely, her body unsparingly prodigal in its need. She was throbbing, drenched with longing, fevered and desperate.

As fiercely impatient, he willingly obliged her, quickly withdrawing, plunging back in, ramming in to the hilt, feeling as though he was caught in some powerful riptide that was carrying him along whether he liked it or not.

Over and over again in a mindless frenzy, he crammed her full.

Over and over again she breathlessly rose up to meet him.

And whether a few seconds lapsed or minutes or whatever heaven-sent interval pa.s.sed, neither was entirely sure.

Although, Johnny was unconsciously monitoring Nicky's o.r.g.a.s.mic progress, disciplining himself, waiting, watching. d.a.m.ned near out of control, he wasn't sure he could delay his climax much longer when she suddenly went taut beneath him and whimpered frantically. As her o.r.g.a.s.m broke over her and she sobbed in grat.i.tude, he poured into her, deluging her slick c.u.n.t, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.n.g. with such violence, he forgot to breathe for a moment.

Just like he forgot to use a condom- again.

f.u.c.k! f.u.c.k! f.u.c.k!

He was out of his mind. He was never so stupid, and with her he'd more or less forgotten the entire concept of using a condom.

She must be a witch.

Who the h.e.l.l else could inspire this kind of craving? Not that he actually believed in witches; he was reachin' here. But whatever it was that was f.u.c.king with his head, he'd deal with it later. Right now, she was cooing and raining lit tl e kisses on his throat and feeling really soft and warm around his rising c.o.c.k.

Right now, he was going to f.u.c.k his brains out.

"Oooooo... that's nice," she whispered, as his erection surged inside her.

Nice in flashing ten-foot-high neon, he thought, feeling the pleasure spiking up his spine and into the farthest reaches of his brain. Nice as in fly-me-to-the-moon without any visible means of propulsion other than steamy, flame-hot l.u.s.t.

For a man who thought he'd seen it all, his eyes were being opened to an entirely new world of sensation. The kind that engaged something other than his c.o.c.k's attention. The kind that knocked on doors he'd never opened before. Maybe even the kind that might make him think beyond tonight.

She arched fiercely up into his downstroke, bringing him back to reality, and he kept his mind on business after that because he liked to please her. And please himself in the bargain.

After an initial frenzy of o.r.g.a.s.ms, he left her sprawled on the bed and, stripping off his clothes, walked over to the French doors and opened them to the night. Standing in the doorway, he let the air cool his sweat-drenched body, gave himself a few moments to come back down, surveyed the moonlit sea with a new appreciation for its beauty.

As though prime s.e.x heightened one's sensibilities.

"Don't be gone long."

He smiled and swung around. "As if I could."

Opening her arms wide, she wiggled her fingers. "Bring me some moonbeams and yourself and hurry."

Ordinarily he would have resented such a command. But nothing about this night was ordinary. "You already have me," he said, softly. "How many moonbeams do you want?"

"Just enough to warm me."

"I can do that better," he said with a smile, retracing his path from the bed. "I can make you hotter than any moonbeams."

"I know-I know, I know," she said, joyful and full of play. "And it's early yet."

"That works out, 'cause I'm greedy as h.e.l.l." Bending low, he kissed her smile. "And talking of greedy pleasures, this dress has to go," he murmured, lifting her into a seated position.

"I thought you liked it."

Her bottom li p settled into a delectable littl e pout that made her look sweet and s.e.xy at the same time. "I love it." He grinned. "But not in bed."

She smiled, instantly mollified. "Oh, that's what you mean." She turned her back to him. "Unzip me, then."

The way she said it, like it was a routine matter, like he unzipped her dresses all the time, like they'd been here like this in the moonlight many times before-was strangely gratifying. A halcyon, cozy little moment. He might have thought the word cozy foreign to his world. But instead he found it charming.

Unzipping her dress, he bent his head and softly kissed the nape of her neck. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Silly question," she whispered, turning back and smiling up at him. "Take this off for starters." She lifted her arms.

He pulled off her dress, tossed it aside, and suddenly grinned. "No bra. I like that."

"Practicality. I'm always in a hurry with you."

"But just with me." f.u.c.k. Why did he say that?

"You want the truth?"

For a second he wanted to say, No, no, forget it. But he didn't. He said, "Yeah."

She hesitated, looked away, looked back. "I shouldn't say."

"Tell me." Clearly, he was deranged.

Her nose twitched like a bunny uncertain of what direction to take. Then she took a breath and said with a defiant tilt of her chin, "I only feel this way with you. Are you satisfied?"

"Definitely." This from a man who had always prided himself on his complete lack of possessiveness.

"So now you know." She made a small moue. "I've been trying hard to stay aloof, but there it is-I'm as adoring as all the other females you run across."

"You're not like them at all," he said, sof tl y. "And I adore you right back-so there."

"f.u.c.king smooth talker," she said with a grin.

"I believe that's in my resume." He laughed. "But in this case it's no bull. And once you see the presents I bought you," he added, sportively, "you're going to adore me even more." Preferring playful banter to a conversation that had d.a.m.ned near turned serious, he walked to the dresser and picked up two packages the housekeeper had brought up. Returning a moment later, he handed them to Nicky. "Adore these, babe," he said, dropping into a sprawl beside her.

The two small boxes were wrapped in silver paper. "Here's where I say, you shouldn't have," she murmured, smiling at him.

He turned his head on the pillow and met her gaze. "And here's where I say, I hope you like them."

"How could I not if you bought them?"

He was surprised it mattered that she like them. After buying coun tl ess gifts for coun tl ess women, these simple and inexpensive objects should be irrelevant. But he found himself watching her face as she opened the first box.

"Oh... how wonderful," she exclaimed, pulling out a miniature, porcelain tree house. "This is what you bought at the toy store!"

He smiled, gratified at her expression of wonder. "I thought of you when I saw it. The door opens; there's people inside." Carefully easing the small door open, she dipped her head and looked inside. The detail was startling, the execution phe nomenal. A man, woman, and littl e girl were seated at a table, their arms and legs moveable, even their eyes opened and shut. "It's gorgeous!" Leaning over, she kissed him. "I can't thank you enough!"

He grinned. "I can think of a few ways you can thank me. But open the other package first."

"OhmyG.o.d!" she marveled, unwrapping a small box of Roussel chocolates. "How did you do it?"

"One phone call and a messenger service. Do you like them?"

"Do fish swim? You're gonna have to wait while I eat these," she said, setting the tree house on the bedside table, fluffing her pillow up and leaning back with the box of chocolates in hand. "Don't interrupt me now," she murmured, a chocolate already halfway to her mouth.

"What happens if I do?"

"I won't even notice."

"Is that a fact?"

She looked up at his roguish tone. "Okay, I'll notice."

"Thank you. I wouldn't want to be outcla.s.sed by a few chocolates."

But she seemed not to have heard him, and he smiled to himself. Not that his ego couldn't take a lit tl e compet.i.tion, not that he couldn't wait to f.u.c.k her for a few minutes. Not that he wasn't enjoying himself just lying beside her and watching her.

Maybe he was just so whacked-out from exhaustion, he was more easily disarmed by her winsome charm.

Or maybe her charms had more to do with hot s.e.x than winsomeness and he was caught up in some rare, lewd sorcery.

Or maybe it just felt good to lie here and watch her eat chocolates.

And wait his turn.

He laughed.

"What?" Her mouth full of chocolate, she looked at him.

"Nothing. Take your time."

She gave him a chocolatey smile.

Funny about chocolatey smiles, he thought. They were s.e.xy as h.e.l.l.

You learn something every day.

Maybe that's why men gave women chocolates.

Maybe it was all about giving something and getting something.

He must have dozed off, because he came awake with a start and the realization that he was alone in bed.

Overcome with a sudden and novel moment of panic he quickly surveyed the room.

"You're awake."

She was standing nude in the moonlight by the balcony door, smiling at him. "Did I sleep long?" he drowsily murmured.

"Maybe ten minutes." She was moving toward him. "I didn't want to wake you. I knew you were tired."

"I feel rested now." He lifted his arms to her. "Come keep me company."

It was code for something else.

She knew.

He knew.

His rising erection was in on the secret as well.

"Are you sure you're not too tired," she gently said as she reached the bed. "I feel as though I'm more demanding than I should be."

His abs rippled as he surged upward and grabbed her. "I'm not tired." Lifting her off her feet, he set her on his hips, running his hands down her arms and hands, twining his fingers through hers. "I feel fine. Did you like the view out there?"

"It's gorgeous-like a scene out of a movie. Moonlight over the Mediterranean. A warm summer night, the scent of jasmine in the air."

" The view from here's even better," he murmured, sliding his fingers from hers. Raising his hands, he cupped her heavy b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the pliant weight resting on his palms. "Venus de Milo in the flesh."

At his touch her nipples had stiffened and swelled. It felt as though her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were enlarging just from the heat of his hands. Or the heat from his eyes. Or the heat from his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es resting against her crotch and the tantalizing sight of his huge, rigid c.o.c.k lying hard against his stomach.