She couldn’t think around the hunger clawing at her loins. She wanted him desperately and increased the fervency of her kisses, letting her tongue duel with his, and her teeth nip at his mouth. All the while, his thumb continued its relentless movement across the now rock-hard nipple of her breast, her thong wet with moisture at the ceaseless torture.
He pulled down a corner of her dress and released the puckered nipple to the night air. Lowering his head, his mouth became a salve to the swollen, achy flesh. With the soothing warmth of his mouth and the slow-motion stroke of his moist tongue, he eased the sting of the nipple’s arousal.
She trembled, arching into him, resting the back of her head against the glass, aching as his hips gyrated in circles against hers. She listened to his groans, endured the pleasurable sucking motion of his lips and the continuous swirl of his tongue.
“Get a room!” someone yelled, but the words seemed to come from far away. They did nothing to curtail the hunger flaring through her like a firestorm.
Celeste couldn’t hold back any longer. She bit down on her lower lip, but it was to no avail. He had her pinned against the glass, one leg in the air, her breast in his mouth, his erection grinding against her in a ruthless rhythm she couldn’t fight against. Her tightly wound body exploded, and she cried out as the orgasm tore through her, violently pumping her hips to achieve maximum pleasure.
He released her nipple and whispered in her ear, “Yeah, baby, that’s it. Let it go.”
Another violent spasm rocked deep within her, and she trembled, grabbing at him as their hips glided against each other through the barrier of too many clothes. A deep, shuddering breath escaped her lungs as the remains of ecstasy eased away.
She was shaken, and her mind fried. The depth of feeling that overtook her had moved with the power of a freight train, making her feel helpless and vulnerable. Embarrassed, she avoided his gaze.
He pulled the dress back over her bared breast and then caressed the fullness of her lower lip with his thumb. “I’ve been wanting to get you off all night.”
“Well, you certainly did a good job,” she replied, her voice still shaky. She finally mustered the nerve to look at him. “What took you so long?”
“I needed to be sure you were open to it,” he replied with a grin. He released her leg but didn’t step back. They remained as close to each other as Siamese twins, and she could feel the hard length of his unsatisfied need. The nonstop beat of the rain continued around them. “We should probably get you someplace warm, where you can dry off. You’re all wet.” He stroked the underside of her jaw with his knuckles, and a shiver of pleasure traveled across her skin. Everything he did turned her on.
The rawness of his voice and the hunger in his eyes revealed much more to his invitation. She knew what he offered, though he didn’t say the words. The unspoken question dangled in the night air between them. That she even considered going with him showed the state of her mind. This was not the behavior of a mature thirty-year-old. Instead, she felt the unfettered irresponsibility of youth, the reckless abandon that came with the acknowledgement tonight was hers to enjoy however she chose.
“Yes, I’m all wet.”
The raunchy flirtation caused a flame to flare to life in his eyes. “I guess I’ll have to lick you dry.”
His words almost made her knees buckle. The idea that she was in over her head rattled through her brain, but she didn’t want to think about the consequences or repercussions of her actions. She wanted to taste what it was like to be uninhibited. For so long she’d walked a straight and narrow path to ensure the best for herself and her daughter. Tonight she wanted to know pleasure, and she knew without a doubt she would experience even more of it with Roarke.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” she whispered.
“I’d like to try.”