He couldn’t get enough of that. Her hair was in his face and he loved the scent of it, of her. He listened to her ragged breathing as her breasts pressed into his chest, her thighs snug to the outside of his. Tightening his hold on her, he pulled her in even closer.
Her body soft and eager, she whispered his name. With a groan he rolled, tucking her beneath him before he could lose his head again. “Still too many clothes,” he said, and began to strip her. It was like unwrapping the last, big, best present left under the Christmas tree. In a beat the tank was gone and so was her skirt, leaving her in just a plain white bra and panties, both skimpy on fabric, leaving his mouth dry, his body hard and aching.
“Pretty,” he said, and stroked the pad of his thumb over the tip of a breast. Lowering his head, he kissed her neck, then made his way to her shoulder, her collarbone, then dipped beneath the cotton to flick his tongue over a puckered nipple.
She gasped and arched up into him. He rocked his hips into hers, pressing her back down into the bed. Writhing beneath him, she made soft, sweet sounds that wreaked havoc on his tenuous control.
Stopping, he looked down at her. Her face was upturned, her lips parted, her eyes closed. She was a man’s greatest fantasy.
She was his greatest fantasy.
With Tanner’s mouth and hands on her, Callie couldn’t breathe—she simply couldn’t get enough air into her lungs—and she made a sound that must have resembled the one she made when choking on a doughnut because he lifted his head.
“Okay?” he asked.
She tightened her fingers in his hair. “Don’t stop!”
Flashing her a heated, wicked smile, he braced up on one forearm as he unhooked and slowly pulled her bra free, tossing it over his shoulder.
“So pretty,” he whispered again, and lowered his head.
Her fingernails dug into his shoulders now, sliding their way down his back to grip his very fine butt as she made a sound of dissatisfaction, pushing at his jeans.
When he didn’t stop kissing her to assist, she attempted to use her toes to shove his pants down.
Laughing at her, he kicked them aside and kept his mouth on her like he couldn’t get enough either.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. Lifting his head, he met her gaze and her heart clenched at the emotion there, raw and stark and unspoken but as apparent as the beat of her heart.
She started to say something, she had no idea what, but instead she touched. She had to. She rocked up to spread kisses over his broad shoulders, his throat, needing to get closer still, wanting to eat him up. But he was holding her down to do the same to her. Unable to get enough, she growled in frustration.
“You first,” he said. He brushed his lips across hers and though she tried to hold him close, he evaded her.
“I know. Christ, I know, but I’ve been dreaming of this. You’re not going to rush me, babe, not tonight—” His hands slid down her body, igniting fires along the way. Her head arched back as his fingers traced the edge of her panties, teasing, slipping between her legs. Then his thumbs hooked into the sides and he dragged the cotton slowly down.
She met his gaze, his eyes dark and heavy lidded with desire. She was riding a fine line here between wanting him to hurry and letting him make the most of the moment. But again he took the matter out of her hands by lowering his head.
Making the most of the moment then.
And that was the last thought she had for a good long time because he replaced his fingers with his tongue. She cried out and shamelessly ground her hips up toward his mouth.
Stilling her movements with his hands, he used his lips and tongue to whip her into submission.
And into coming.
Which she did, faster and harder than she could remember ever happening before. When she could breathe again, she tackled and straddled him like a rodeo star.
He grinned up at her. “You liked that,” he said.
“I did. And now you’re going to like this.”
“Whatcha got?” He broke off with a hiss of breath through his teeth when she nipped at his lower lip and ran her hands down his chest, savoring the feel and taste and scent of him.
Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it echo in every part of her body as she trailed kisses on his skin. His collarbone. A pec. Ribs…His stomach. Oh, how she loved his abs. They quivered as she dragged her lips over them, continuing southbound until finally she was at eye level with the part of him she’d been craving.
She took him into her mouth.
He gripped the bedding in fists and groaned. Lifting his head, he watched her from dark, heated eyes, his fingers sliding into her hair to hold it back for her. He let her have her way with him for a few minutes, until his hips were moving with her every stroke. Then without warning he pushed her back on the bed and covered her. She could feel him, hard and heavy between her legs, and she’d never wanted anything more. “Now, Tanner. Oh, please, now.”
But he didn’t move. In fact, he remained so carefully still that she forced her eyes open and stared up at him, hungry and desperate. “Why aren’t you oh-please-nowing me?” she murmured.
“No condom.” He said this from between his teeth, as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself.
She blinked and then, as the words sank in, shuddered in disappointment. “Damn it!”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and brushed his mouth along her temple.