“But that’s okay,” she said, caressing his chest with her hands. “I’ll be very excited about the big batch of orchids I’ll get when you come back.”
He hated the disappointment in her eyes, hated it. He tried to smile, but he couldn’t, and instead, he reached up and touched the smooth skin of her face. He could hardly stand to be near her and not touch her. They’d been a couple for nine months now, and he just wanted her that much more.
Leah smiled, moved her hands over his chest.
He slid his hands to her thighs, beneath the tails of his shirt, and up, to her breasts.
Leah closed her eyes; he slid his fingers over the tip of her nipple. With a soft sigh, she swayed a little, braced herself against his chest. He sat up, quickly unbuttoned the shirt she wore, and pushed it from her shoulders.
This wasn’t what he had planned, not how he wanted to end it, but he couldn’t resist her, and began moving his hands everywhere, sliding over her arms, caressing her breasts, her hips, her back. He would miss this, he would miss her body, would miss her laugh, her sigh, her smile.
He took her breast into his mouth, and Leah seized his shoulders to steady herself. He moved a hand to the apex of her legs, his fingers gliding into her cleft.
It was he who groaned this time—she was hot and slick. He put an arm around her waist, tried to pull her off him.
But Leah laughed and resisted. “You said I could be on top this time,” she reminded him.
He grinned, easily pulled her off, rolled her onto her back. “I lied. If you want to be on top, you’re going to have to earn it.”
“Ooh, bold talk.”
He kissed her laugh, felt himself floating, the feral sensations taking hold. With his mouth and his hands, he slid down her body, leaving a hot, wet trail on her belly. He pushed her thighs apart, kissing them tenderly, spurred on by Leah’s gasps and moans. And then he moved slightly, so that his mouth was on her sex.
Leah gasped and clutched at his head. Michael loved that about her—she was a lusty lover—and he slipped his tongue between the slick folds. He held her firmly and casually stroked her, his tongue dipping in and out languidly at first, tasting her, exploring each crevice, moving up to the core, then down again, to where her body throbbed. As her groans and her writhing increased, so did his urgency. He was stroking her harder, his mouth covering her, and Leah began to press against him.
He licked and sucked her into a frenzy of delicious torment until Leah was literally gasping for breath. And then she cried out. He came over her, his hands skimming her belly, her breasts, to her face. Leah laughed as he pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat. “Oh my God,” she said. “Oh my God.” She flung one arm above her head, smiling deliriously.
Michael reveled in the soft feel of her body, the tender pressure of her hand and her mouth on his chin. He had never in his life known lovemaking like he knew it with Leah. Each time it left him spent and powerless and hungry for more.
She began to move beneath him, guiding him to her. “What are you waiting for?” she asked him breathlessly.
Michael laughed, moved between her legs and spread them wider, so that the tip of his erection was touching her, moving slowly against her. “You’ve never been exactly patient, have you?”
“No,” she said, and fumbled for the drawer on the night-stand, grabbed a condom. She quickly tore the wrapper with her teeth, then watched his eyes as she rolled the thing on him, using both hands to do it, both hands to stroke and tickle and make him absolutely crazy. “Watch it,” he said with a smile. “You may get more than you bargained for.”
“Not at this rate.”
“Now you’ve gone and done it,” he muttered, and lowered his lips to hers as he eased himself inside her, moving his hips in small circles, until he had slid deep into her, moving slowly, prolonging the moment, teasing her.
But Leah was in no mood to be teased. Her fingernails dug into his hips, urging him deeper and faster.
He smiled. “Where’s the fire?”
“You mean you can’t feel it?” she gasped, digging her fingernails into him even deeper. “Come on, Mikey, don’t make me beg.”
“But I love it when you beg,” he said, hoping she’d beg soon, because he couldn’t keep the teasing up. He needed to be in her. Really in her.
“Please,” she said, lifting her head and biting his lower lip. “Please fuck me.”
That was all it took, and he lengthened his strokes. They were so good together that Leah instantly began to move with him, her hips rising to meet each surge, her breathing as ragged as his, her knees squeezing him.
Michael was sliding deeper and harder, his hands in her hair, his eyes wildly roaming her beautiful face, driving into her, over and over and over again, until he closed his eyes and found a very hot and very potent release with a strangled cry.