A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) by Darynda Jones

She sent her hands over his steely ass and pulled him against her. Her pink blouse had ridden up and his cock lay heavy on her exposed stomach. She pushed a hand between them and encircled it with her fingers. He stilled, his muscles contracting to the density of marble as she stroked him. First with small, hesitant strokes, then with longer ones.

“Fuck, Shine,” he ground out as her confidence grew.

Before he could protest, she broke off the kiss and wiggled down between his legs until his cock was at her mouth. Magnificent. Hard. Flesh straining against the confines of its own skin. She felt a rush of blood when she eased her lips around it. She teased the tip of his cock with the tip of her tongue, then took his ass into both hands and pulled. He slid into her.

“Fucking hell,” he said when her teeth grazed the length of his erection, his voice hoarse, almost begging.

But she dug her fingernails into his ass to hold him inside her, to prevent him from unsheathing, and sucked. His breathing grew heavier. She slowly eased him out, then drew him back inside the warmth of her mouth, wrenching a groan from him.

The blood rushing just beneath the surface of his cock would suggest he was near orgasm, and that thought sent a scorching heat coiling in her abdomen. She felt the flood of her excitement between her legs as she slowly, painstakingly pumped him to climax. She wanted that for him. Wanted to be able to do that to him, as though it would be a coup, a notch in her Levi belt. At last.

But he reached down and wrapped a hand gently around her jaw to stop her. “Wait,” he said breathlessly. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”

He pulled out of her, and she grinned up at him, still straddled above her.

“That was the general idea.”

He reached behind her head, grabbed the sheet she was lying on, and jerked her back up like she weighed nothing. A wicked grin slid across his startlingly handsome face. “My turn.”

Taking both wrists into one of his hands, he locked them above her head and ran his free hand over her stomach before undoing the buttons on her blouse. With one hand. She was impressed. And light-headed.

Cool air rushed over her skin when he laid the shirt open. He stopped to look at her, his eyes shimmering with interest. Her bra hooked in front. One more magic trick and it fell open, too. Her breasts spilled out, his large hand catching one. He caressed it. Massaged it before he bent his head and suckled the nipple. Whatever he was doing with his tongue caused the most incredible tremors of pleasure to quake inside her.

“What the hell?” she asked, trying to figure out his technique. “How are you …” Her voice trailed off as she felt the promise of an orgasm flourish between her legs, the heat pooling in her abdomen astonishing. “I’ve never … ,” she said between gasps. “This is …new.”

He released her nipple only to transfer his scorching mouth to the other. It was like an invisible thread had been pulled taut between her nipples and her clit, and every time he sucked—so softly she ached—and flicked his tongue—so sweetly she writhed—it strummed and vibrated, drawing the orgasm closer and closer.

She parted her legs involuntarily. He took that as a cue to unfasten her jeans and send his hand down the front of them. Still sucking, he dipped two fingers inside her, causing her to clench around them, then pulled out and circled her clit, her own wetness slickening his fingertips.

He worked hard, bringing her to the brink then pulling her back, for several long minutes.

“Levi, please,” she begged, parting her legs further.

After climbing onto his knees, he peeled off first her jeans, then her panties. He slid them down her legs with meticulous care, caressing each inch of her skin as he did so.

She threw back her head and reveled in his touch. His kisses between her knees. His tongue sliding up her thighs.

She heard the sound of foil tearing and lifted her head to watch like a voyeur. She bit her bottom lip as he rolled the condom onto his hard cock. He was sculpted to absolute perfection, the hills and valleys creating the most alluring play of shadow and light all over his lean body. His large hand finished the task, and then he stroked himself. Once. Twice.

Blood rushed into her clit. It swelled and pulsed and pleaded for release. He could have taken her sweetly. He could have covered her body with his and placed tiny, hot kisses on the corners of her mouth as he slid gently inside her.

But he was done with sweetly, apparently. He grabbed her hips and pulled her ass onto him, guiding her cunt onto his cock. He slid in with ease and she arched her back to draw him deeper, the sensations swirling inside her like blistering molten lava. She took every inch of him over and over as he milked the orgasm. His strokes grew shorter and faster, coaxing the sweet sting closer.

And then it happened. Pleasure spiked inside her, surging deep and hot and sharp. It spilled out and flooded every cell in her body. She clamped down on him and he came with a guttural growl, his chest heaving, his muscles contracting as he slammed into her.

After a moment, he collapsed and rolled to the side, but her orgasm was still there, on the edge of the precipice. The wave still rocking her, it had never fully subsided.

She grabbed his hand and pushed it between her legs. She had no idea what his reaction was, because her body was too busy trying to come again.

He pressed his fingers inside her and scraped a palm over her clit. His mouth was at her ear, his warm breath “Come on,” he said. “One more.”