Mama’s Boy by Avery Flynn

Chapter Forty-Eight

Fiona

“This is what I wanted to show you,” he said, leading her out onto the rooftop terrace on the fifth floor of his brownstone. “Look up.”

In the city, there’d never be a star-filled sky like they’d enjoyed on the island at Gable House, but not even the skyline’s millions of lights could dim the brilliance of the full moon hanging in the sky above them. It was so big, it looked like if she could just really stretch, she could touch it.

“It’s the first of three supermoons this year.” He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as they looked up. “That means it’s closer to Earth now than usual, which is what makes it look so much bigger and brighter.”

She let out a contented sigh, even as she shivered from the cold. “It’s beautiful.”

“It reminds me of you.” He kissed the sensitive spot behind her right earlobe. “Breathtaking.”

“Dixon Beckett, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Is it working?” he asked, nipping his way down her neck.

“A little.” Okay, a lot, but a woman had to have her pride.

He slid his fingers under the hem of her sweater, trailing across the tender flesh of her belly right above the waistband of her jeans. “I guess I’ll have to try harder, then.” He nipped her neck and kissed the spot immediately after. “Come inside—it’s too cold to do what I want to do with you out here.”

“What’s that?”

“Strip you naked and make you stay like that all weekend.”

“Won’t that be chilly when I head back home tonight?”

“You’re not leaving my bed until Monday morning.”

The kiss took all the sass right out of her mouth. Instead, all she could do was hold on to his shoulders as he teased her lips apart with his tongue before slipping inside and making all sorts of wordless promises that, damn her mutinous self, she’d started to believe.

“Fiona.” He broke the kiss, his dark eyes wild as he searched her face. “Say you’ll stay.”

It was the edge of desperation dipped in hope that did her in. God, this man. He was nothing like she’d expected, nothing like what she’d thought she’d wanted. He was stubborn and too obsessed with winning, but damn did he take her breath away with the way he looked at her as if she was the most amazing person he’d ever met, as if he could see her for who she really was. She’d answered that Bramble ad bent on revenge and instead had fallen in love with her intended target. Tomorrow, she’d tell him about her original plan. Tonight, she’d show him how she really felt.

“I’ll stay.” Tonight, tomorrow, the weekend, forever. “Where’s your room?”

Taking her hand, Dixon led Fiona back inside to the bedroom on the other side of the open stairwell. It was huge, taking up the entire width of the brownstone with skylights above them that let in the light from the huge moon. There was a four-poster bed, a sitting area with a fireplace and couch, and a dumbwaiter built into the wall. She stopped just at the edge of the bed, her back to him, and closed her eyes. Even with her eyes closed in the dim room, she knew where he was, felt the shiver of awareness across her skin the closer he came.

Suddenly, he was behind her, taking her wrists, and pulling her arms up. “Hold on.”

She did as she was told, grasping the intricately carved wood as he reached around to her front and went to work on her jeans. While he kissed the back of her neck, he flicked open her top button, then inched down her zipper before sliding his fingers underneath the waistband of her panties. She loosened her hold.

“Uh-uh,” Dixon said with a demanding growl. “If you touch me, I’ll forget all the things I want to do to you right now.” He punctuated the statement by roughly tugging down her jeans, lowering them to her ankles before pausing long enough to take her shoes off and then sending her jeans into the same corner he’d tossed her booties.

Her entire body went on hyperalert. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She could only wait and see what he did next.

One hand dipping underneath her sweater, the other between her legs, he worked her body. He caressed her clit in slow circles at the same time that he rolled her hard nipples until they were stiff peaks. Pressing his body against hers, he teased her, touched her, tempted her beyond all measure.

“Put your foot up on the bed,” he said.

She didn’t hesitate. Everything felt too good, too right. The move changed the angle, tightening her opening as he traced it with his fingertip, dipping inside just enough to make her beg for more, desperate for what only he could give her. Again and again, he toyed with her, taking her higher and higher, hitting all her pleasure points with his fingers and his mouth while she held on for dear life to the bedpost.

“What do you want, Fiona?”

“You.” The single word came out as a plea, a demand, and a prayer all in one.

“Don’t you want to come first?” He swirled the tip of one finger around her hard, aching clit.

“I need you inside me.”

“You’ll get that, but not until you come.” He stopped playing with her clit long enough to take off her sweater and bra, tossing them so they lay in the same pile as the rest of her clothes. “Fingers or mouth.”

“That’s not a fair choice.” An impossible choice, really.

He cupped her bare breasts, tugging her peaked nipples with just enough force to make her mewl in pleasure. “But it’s the one you have.”

“Fingers,” she said finally, letting the first word she thought to come out of her mouth just so he’d stop torturing her with teasing pleasure.

He didn’t respond—at least not with words. Instead, he fucked her with his fingers while the heel of his palm rubbed against her clit. His mouth stayed busy delivering kisses along the line of her shoulders, up her neck, across her jawline when she turned her head as the pressure built inside her until she couldn’t take it anymore and the world exploded around her. Her climax stole her breath, and she collapsed against Dixon’s hard chest, her head lolling back, her breathing ragged.

Dixon took a step back, and she started.

“It’s okay,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back close to him. “I still have you.”

“You always do,” she said as she turned in his arms, needing to see his face.

He looked her straight in the eyes, his gaze intense as if he were looking right into her heart. “Yes.”