He took off his suit jacket and tie and then came down on top of her on the bed, nuzzling her neck, his hand stroking up her thigh.
“Who's supposed to be seducing whom?” she asked breathlessly.
“Ah, Elizabeth. I can't keep my hands off you.”
She laughed helplessly. “That's what got us into this situation to begin with, if I recall. The fact that we both couldn't keep our hands off each other.”
He moved her filmy robe aside so he could kiss a shoulder. “Mmm.” His lips trailed up the side of her neck and she turned her head to give him better access. “Let's take it slow and make it last this time.”
His lips moved to her mouth and gave her little nibbling kisses. When his hand moved up to cup her breast intimately, her eyes fluttered shut as she let herself delight in the feel of his hand kneading her soft flesh. “Ah—” she swallowed a gasp as his thumb traced over her nipple “—I'm a little more sensitive now.”
He lifted his head, and his eyes, already smoky gray with arousal, met hers. “Yes, I can tell.” He paused. “Could you take my mouth on you?”
The question and the image it evoked was so erotic, she shivered and her already distended ni**les jutted even more prominently beneath her negligee, as if asking for him to do what he had only voiced till now.
“Oh, please, yes.”
He smiled, seemingly pleased at her enthusiasm, and slowly moved his hand over her shoulder and down her forearm, taking the thin negligee strap with him and exposing her breast to his hot gaze. “You're getting more assertive. I just hope that I can keep up with you—both in bed and out.”
“Or die trying,” she teased, echoing his words when he proposed that they enter into a business arrangement to get her pregnant.
“Or die trying,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers as his head descended and his lips closed over one nipple. His tongue swirled around the peak and then began a steady sucking motion that had her h*ps rising off the bed as delicious sensations rippled through her.
His hand moved up her thigh to inch the bottom of her negligee farther up. She felt his erection pressing against her and moaned softly. When he lifted his mouth from her, she lowered the strap of the negligee that had remained in place so his lips could find her other breast.
His hand sought the spot between her thighs and she moved her legs apart to afford him access, sighing when he cupped her and began moving his palm in slow circular motions against her warmth.
She pulled his shirt from the waistband of his trousers and moved her hands beneath it to caress his back. His hand against her moist heat was fanning the flames inside her.
It was time, she decided, to give as good as she got.
And with that thought, she moved her leg against the bulge in his trousers, stroking him through the fabric until he lifted his mouth from her and groaned.
“You know, for someone with only a couple of sexual experiences, you really know how to pack a punch!”
She looked down at herself and then at him. “You're wearing too many clothes,” she teased.
“That's easily remedied.” Standing up next to the bed, he undid the buttons of his shirt and took it off, then raised his arms and lifted his undershirt over his head, tossing it on the floor to meet his shirt.
When he started on his belt, she stopped him. “Let me.” She wanted to undress him, to peel away the layers, as she'd spent years longing to do.
He let her undo the belt and lower the zipper of his suit pants before he stepped out of the trousers, kicking off his shoes and socks in the process. When he pulled her up against him and gave her a soul-searing kiss, she twined her arms around his neck and gave herself up to it, glorying in a dream come true.
When they finally came up for air, he groaned, “God, sweetheart, I've got to have you.”
The words sent tingles along her nerve endings. They both had the power to affect each other deeply, but, she realized, she trusted him in a bone-deep, instinctive way.
Lifting her negligee over her head, she tossed it on the floor to meet his shirt. “I love you, Quentin,” she said throatily. She skimmed her fingers over his chest and down his forearms, emboldened by the power he had infused her with. “And I'm going to show you how much.”
Her hand rubbed against his erection, stroking him through his boxer shorts, before she divested him of his last piece of clothing and caressed him with her bare hand.
His eyes closed and his breath hissed between his teeth. “I don't know how much more 'showing' I can take….” he warned.
She laughed softly. Would she ever have imagined even a few months ago that she'd literally have Quentin in the palm of her hand?
His eyes opened. “What's so funny?” he said roughly.
When she shared with him what she'd been thinking, he pretended annoyance. “Oh, yeah?”
“I was just teas—oh!” Her sentence ended in a gasp as he tumbled her to the bed.
His hands made short work of the black silk panties she wore, and then he was trailing kisses down her body, between her br**sts, and lower.
When he rose over her again, he muttered, “I can't wait, Elizabeth.”
“Then don't,” she whispered and drew him down to her, her legs opening so that his erection was hard against her. “Make love to me, Quentin.”
“Lord, yes.”
Quentin probed against her until he found her opening. Slowly he eased himself inside her, gritting his teeth against the urge to go faster. She was so tight and warm, he was having trouble not losing his mind.
Elizabeth's legs came around him and took him in the rest of the way, until he was buried in her warm wetness. “Oh, Quentin!”
Her sigh of pleasure was nearly his undoing, but he forced himself to go slowly, sliding in and out of her steadily and deliberately.
She was everything he ever wanted, everything he ever needed, and he groaned with the effort to hold off his cl**ax.
Liz rubbed her hands over the sheen of sweat that glistened on Quentin's skin. She breathed in his musky male scent, kissed his shoulder, and rubbed her br**sts against his chest. He was making her almost mindless with need.
His eyes were shut, his jaw clenched, his breathing labored. She gripped his hips, sinking her fingers into his flanks, and urged him to go faster, her h*ps rising to meet his thrusts. The tension coiling within her was almost unbearable.
“Elizabeth, sweetheart, let me—”
Before he could finish, she found her release, unwinding against him and crying out.
Quentin felt his mind shutting down. Instinct took over as he drove himself into her until the world exploded. He collapsed against her, spent but replete.