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lapped and tickled, making her nipple more responsive than she’d
imagined it could be, until she recalled where she had her hand.
    The tip of his cock was wet, his body preparing for her by
providing copious natural lubricant. She spread it around the silky skin with
her thumb, exploring him, then traced the ridge under the cap, nicely indented,
ready for her tongue, if she could get there. He was bigger and he was proving
it, holding her bracketed between his arms while he enjoyed her body.
    She enjoyed him enjoying her. He was right—now was all that
mattered. If he appeared in the bar tomorrow, telling everyone that he had
fucked her, she could retaliate. She knew who he was. But deep down, she
trusted him. He wouldn’t tell. In her fantasies, her hot rock star told
everyone and offered her to everyone, but she knew the difference between
fantasy and reality. Reality was turning out a whole lot better.
    He traced his tongue around the curve under one breast.
B-cup or no, he seemed to like what she had to offer. “A gorgeous handful,” he
said, spreading his hand over the breast that hadn’t been the lucky recipient
of his kisses. Oh yes, he liked them fine.
    Down to her navel, where another murmur emerged. “An innie.
My favorite.” He proceeded to prove it, exploring her, laughing when she
squeaked and jerked. He kissed his way to the soft spot inside her hip,
lingering, reminding her how responsive she was there. Not many men realized
that; they tended to go straight for the primary areas. This man was more
playful and more exploratory than most of her bed partners. Just how
exploratory, she wondered, and a vivid series of pictures came to mind,
straight out of her fantasies. Not just the one about all the members of the
band fucking her one after the other, but more private ones, of situations
rather than people. She’d always wondered if she’d be as turned-on in real
life. Fuck, yeah.
    He explored lower, to the tuft of hair her beautician
allowed to grow at the apex of her legs.
    He seemed to approve by the way he combed through, easing
his fingers through the curls. “Lovely.” His voice deepened and a rough edge
entered the previously smooth tone. “I can see you, I can smell you.”
    “Oh!” She tried to jerk away but he held her down, wouldn’t
let her go.
    “There is nothing wrong with the smell of a fresh
ready-for-fucking woman, and you, sweetheart, are all of that. And I love it.”
She had no idea what he would do before he did it, as he swooped down and
licked her, opening to her clit, and then made a sound like a man enjoying his
food. “Mmm. Nothing beats it.” He lifted his head, gazing up at her. “Except
maybe for one thing.”
    He lifted on his hands and came back up the bed to her,
balancing effortlessly on one arm while he sheathed himself. She watched, mouth
watering. All for her.
    When he caught her watching, a smile spread over his face.
Sweet and sexy at the same time, wholly irresistible. Not that she was trying to
resist him.
    He took his cock in one hand and gave her a questioning
look, brimful of mischief. “Ready?”
    She nodded. “More than.”
    “Let’s go.”
    Glancing down, he guided his cock to her entrance and moved
forward, the motion so slight she hardly felt it. Although she did. The feel of
him against her skin for the first time, but she hoped not the last tonight,
made her gasp.
    “Feel it,” he said, his voice positively gritty now. “Good?”
    “So good.”
    “Every touch, every sensation. Remember it.”
    “Fuck, yes.” She would, she knew it. Every second. She’d
never appreciated this, the way he was making her experience every moment,
every slight touch. She could smell her sex now, and she reveled in it as he
did. Knowing it made her wetter—she felt the liquid, which could only be her
because he was sheathed now, soak her thighs, make her even more ready for him.
That beautiful, long cock was about to—
    Oh, shit. Fan-fucking-tastic.
    She