Authors: Cari Quinn
NeedMe (17 page)
He twisted her nipples between thumb and forefinger and
matched her smile when she gasped. “Just like that.”
It wasn’t any hardship to study his delectable body,
especially while he kept up his sensuous torment of her breasts. Dark hair fanned
over his pecs and wound its way down to the waistband of his pants. With a
couple of flicks, they were undone, leaving her free to reach inside and stroke
his stiff length, outlined in the black clingy material of his boxers. She
rolled back the waistband and closed her palm over the damp head of his cock,
her gaze slamming against his while he jerked in her hand.
“Now this is an erection that shouldn’t be hidden by latex.”
As flippant as she tried to sound, the last word still trembled on her tongue when
he lifted her chin.
“Your choice. All of this is.”
“
Our
choice,” she corrected, leaning closer to lick
his lower lip. His ragged breaths only grew choppier when she began to stroke
him. “Let’s make it together.”
“
Ti amo.
” She was pretty sure that had something to
do with love in Italian, but she didn’t know for certain. Nor did she care. It
sounded fucking sexy.
He rocked into her movements, eyes closing. Features
relaxing and tensing simultaneously. She took her time with him, putting
everything she felt and still hadn’t said into the glides of her hands. Into
her eyes, so that when he finally looked at her again, she knew he would see
how much he mattered to her and how grateful she was he hadn’t given up on her
when she’d been tempted to give up on herself.
That was what love was all about, wasn’t it? Giving instead
of taking. Believing instead of doubting. When she was with him, she started to
think she was capable of becoming that sort of person too.
Softly, she laid her lips on his and upped the intensity of
her strokes. The contrast in textures nudged him that much closer to climax and
he whispered her name again and again as if he were saying a spell. She reached
down and closed her fingers around his sac, earning a groan that let her know
he wouldn’t last long. “Baby, I can’t wait.”
She smiled, ridiculously happy with his sudden lack of
control.
She’d
done that to him. He was a guy who could normally last
forever, as he’d demonstrated the other night at Kink, and here he was on the
verge from just a hand job and a few kisses. She slowed down instead of
speeding up, wanting to prolong this incredible moment between them until
neither of them could take it anymore.
Apparently he had the same idea, because he licked and
nipped at her nipples with a light, teasing pressure that drove her mad. When
he finally dipped his hand between her drenched thighs, she arched into his
touch and cried out, beyond ready to go on the ride of her life with him.
He nuzzled her breasts, kissing them with an expression of total
worship on his face while he fingered her to the brink. Her clit felt full and
ripe and he knew exactly how to strum her flesh to make her pant.
God, the man was a maestro. A veritable genius. A foreplay
expert par excellence.
“Make me come.” Her vision blurred but she never lost track
of his dark eyes, so steady on hers. “Please, Tony.”
“Together, remember?” He shifted her until he could get his
pants down far enough for her to climb onto his waiting cock. “I want to be
inside you when we come.”
Poised above him, a hairsbreadth away from taking him
inside, she hesitated. If she did this, sans condom, she’d be making a
statement. One of total trust and complete understanding. They were both
aroused, yes, but there could be no denying the significance of this moment.
Then she lifted her head and caught sight of his knowing
smile, as if he could read every thought scrolling through her mind.
“It’s okay,” he said, reaching for his wallet. “We have a
lot of time to—”
“No.” Her fingers encircled his width and she guided him
home. One sure flex of her hips and he was buried deep, right where he
belonged. “You’re right.” She sighed. “It feels so much better without a
condom.”
“Well, duh.” His echo of her earlier comment elicited a
giggle. He cupped her cheek in one hand and wrapped his other arm around her,
urging them into a slow, gentle rhythm that coaxed her building arousal to a
simmering hum in her blood.
She flicked her tongue over his lips and sank into his hot,
endless kisses. Every inch of her body belonged to him, her every molecule and
nerve in sync with his. So good. No, it was better than good. This was the best
sex of her life, with the man she loved and who loved her right back.
Her climax ripped through her with a suddenness that stole
her breath. Their bodies had been revving to this point for what felt like
forever, but her orgasm overtook her so fast that her hips shot into overdrive.
Her nails scraped down his upper arms and she clamped around his cock, rocking
them both into oblivion. “Tony, I’m—”
“I know. Me too.” He fused his mouth to hers so that his
groan flowed into her while his release bathed her pussy. Over and over, he
pulsed deep within her, extending her orgasm with his wild thrusts.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dropped her
forehead to his, tasting his exhalations as if they were her own. Right now
they were. He reached up to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling in
her hair. Why that gesture felt protective, she didn’t know. But she liked it.
She
loved
it.
Sex had never been beautiful to her before. She’d had her
share of dirty fuckfests and she’d enjoyed them all, though some had been more
pleasurable than others. But this…this went beyond.
When the haze started to clear, she opened her eyes. His
were still closed, long dark lashes dusting his cheeks. She smiled and fought
the urge to touch. He needed a couple of moments rest.
Ah, fuck it.
Her tentative brush of fingertips along the dip under his
eye shot him to instant alertness. “Sorry. Your lashes looked so soft. Like
butterfly’s wings.” She shrugged, feeling more than a little silly. “I tried to
pet a bumblebee once.”
“How’d that work out?”
“As you might expect.”
He laughed and cuddled her closer, burrowing his nose into
the side of her neck. “I love you, Marcia.”
The words were muffled by her skin, but she still heard
them. Still felt their power all the way down to her blue polished toenails.
How long had she waited for him to say that? To know it was
true?
His arms tightened around her when she didn’t answer.
Goddammit. What was her problem? When it was so important for her to respond,
she couldn’t coordinate her vocal cords.
She jerked him back from her, gripping his upper arms while
she stared into his eyes and tried to say everything she had no voice to
convey. The rigid lines of his face softened, worry giving way to a smile so
bright she might’ve been blinded had she not chosen that moment to bury her
face in his chest. “I love you too, with all of me. The bad, the good and
everything in between.”
He stroked her hair, surrounding her with his warmth.
“You’re not shaking.”
“No.” Not outwardly anyway.
“Not crying.”
“Why would I cry when I’m happy?” she asked, perplexed. Was
that what most women did when moved to the heights of emotion? Maybe their
ducts started up with the slightest provocation. She blinked just to be sure
and shook her head. “No, eyes are dry. Sorry.”
With a laugh, he cradled her face in his palm and drew her
mouth up to his. “My sweet, practical Marcia,” he said just before he swept his
tongue between her lips and made her his all over again.
“Mostly practical,” she said a little breathlessly as they
separated. She grasped his hand and pulled it to her stomach. “Except right
here, where everything’s circling like drunk monkeys on bicycles.”
Again he laughed. “You have such a way with words. No wonder
you decided to put pen to paper. Which reminds me.” He hooked an arm around her
waist and jockeyed her forward so he could reach the notebook on the coffee
table. “I want to read this,” he said when she opened her mouth.
“I… Okay.” She’d already climbed Mt. Everest and leapt to
the ground in one jump. Sharing some words on a page was nothing in comparison.
“Go ahead.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Just be gentle.”
He pinched her ass. “Like you ever like it gentle.”
“I did this time, didn’t I? We went slow and didn’t even— Oh
my God.” She bobbled on his lap, almost toppling backward.
Alarmed, he dropped the notebook and grabbed her wrist.
“What?”
“We didn’t use any sex toys. You didn’t bind my wrists. No
athletic positions.” She couldn’t talk fast enough. “No anal.”
“Jesus Christ, you scared me.” But he was laughing, his eyes
dancing as he stroked the side of her face. “It’s called making love. Something
new for us.”
“Yeah.” She smiled and turned her cheek into his hand. “It
was wonderful.”
“Damn straight.”
She chewed on her lower lip and hoped he didn’t think she
was a deviant when she asked her next question. Probably too late there. “So,
um, you can’t use toys or have anal when you make love?”
This time she expected his laughter. “God, I love you. More
than I can say. You’re my everything.”
Her face grew hot and her throat constricted. She wasn’t a
happy crier but she damn sure was affected. “Maybe you should be writing the
book, not me,” she said, exhaling a long breath. “My idea of romance is opting
for silk sheets over rubber.”
“You aren’t writing romance.” He rubbed his knuckles over
her cheek. “You’re writing sex. Something you know very well and I’d happily
vouch for you.”
“You’re biased but I don’t mind.” She gave him a quick kiss
and picked up the notebook. “Here, read it.”
“You’re sure?”
“If I say no, you won’t mention it again?”
“Hell no. I’ll steal the notebook and lock myself in the
john.”
She laughed and playfully pressed the notebook’s metal spiral
into his chest. “Here. Read. I’m going to go take a quick shower.”
“Okay.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Use lots of that
soap I like so I can smell it all over you. And maybe leave me a few bubbles to
lick off.”
“And people think I’m a horndog.” She was still smiling as
she went to take her shower.
The smile lasted until she returned, bundled in a towel, to
find Tony sitting with the notebook on his lap. He’d folded his hands over it
and his gaze was focused off in the distance, somewhere she couldn’t see.
Nerves took root in her belly, flapping and fluttering. Did
he think it was awful and didn’t know how to tell her?
“Tony?”
He glanced at her, a smile coming to his face so quickly
that she did a double take. “I can’t believe how good this is.”
She blinked. Blinked again. “Really? Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not. It’s fucking amazing. And that’s giving plenty of
consideration to the fact that you’re not exactly a natural at this romance
stuff. It’s still incredible. Where did you learn to write?”
She reached up to secure the towel around her hair, still
certain he was bullshitting her. A man in love could be apt to say any damn
thing. And wasn’t that wonderful? “It’s only three pages.”
“So? It’s a start. A great one.”
“But it’s later in the book. Not even the beginning. I
couldn’t figure out how to start the book for real so I skipped ahead to where
I was at mentally today.”
“Thinking about love.”
“Thinking about you,” she corrected, sitting down beside him
and taking his hand. “Feeling utterly scared and shaken that you were meeting
with a naked submissive—”
“Diana wasn’t naked when I met with her, Marsh.”
“Still. It threw me. Last night threw me.”
“Yet you didn’t tell me to get lost. You didn’t demand I
ante up or go to hell.” He lifted her hand, slipped his fingers between hers.
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
“Yeah. I trust you, Tony. And I believe in you. I just…” She
bit her lip and shook her head. “I need to learn to believe in me.”
“You took a huge step today. You’ll keep taking them every
day until you get where you want to go.”
She nodded and raised her gaze to his, held it there. “I
don’t know where that is yet. All I know is that I want you with me.”
“You’ve got me. All the way, baby.”
“Thank God.” Heart knocking against her ribs, she got to her
knees and inched closer to him, looping her arms around his neck. A couple tugs
of his fingers and the towel pooled around her waist. “I have a request.”
“Anything.”
“Can we try that making love thing again? See if magic
strikes twice?”
He yanked the towel off her head, sending her wet blonde
curls spilling over her shoulders. “Whatever you wish, milady. I’m but a vessel
for the soon-to-be famous author in my midst.”
“Really? So if I go get that butt plug again…”
He rose and hauled her up over his shoulder, making her
squeal with laughter. “As long as you remember we have his-and-hers butt plugs,
it’s all good.”
Grinning, Marcia closed her eyes as he carried her down the
hall to her bedroom. Maybe writing about how to keep the sex fires burning and
falling in love went hand in hand after all.
She couldn’t wait to find out.
About Cari Quinn
Award-winning, multi-published author Cari Quinn wrote her
first story—a bible parable—in 2nd grade, much to the delight of the nuns at
her Catholic school. Once she saw the warm reception that first tale garnered,
she was hooked. She attempted her first romance in junior high, long before
she’d ever read one. Writing what she knew always took a backseat to what she
wanted to know, and that still holds true today. Cari’s genres of choice
include contemporary, romantic comedy, romantic suspense, urban fantasy and
paranormal. Recently she discovered erotic romance. Oh, how far she’s come.
Cari welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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Also by
Cari Quinn
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Need Me
ISBN 9781419940682
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Need Me Copyright © 2012 Cari Quinn
Edited by Jillian Bell
Photography and cover design by Syneca
Models: Nick, Shannon and Alex
Electronic book publication September 2012
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