Swallowing hard, Danny leaned over the apex of her thighs and ran his palm over the dusky curls. She sucked in her breath, a raspy, harsh sound that collapsed into a sigh when his finger slid along the center of her mound and slipped between the curls. He sank into wet heat.
Danny paused, his erection throbbing against the bed, and counted to three. He was in control. Sort of. "You like that?" He pulled back, swirling his finger over her clitoris before sinking in again.
"Yes." She bit her lip.
"How about this?" He replaced his finger with his tongue, closing his eyes as the taste of her exploded in his mouth. She was slick, sweet, her body quivering around him, thighs drifting closed to clamp around his head.
"Danny…" she groaned.
He'd never liked his name, tried to switch everyone to calling him Dan at least a hundred times to no effect, but hearing it ripped from Amanda in complete ecstasy gave him a whole new appreci-ation for it. He wanted to hear it again. He stroked in and out of her with his tongue, over and over, faster and deeper. Then he pulled back quickly and gave a quick lick and suck at her clitoris.
"Danny!" She dug her fingers in his hair and came, half rising off the bed.
He hung on, even when she kneed him the gut with her thrashing legs, and he ran his tongue over her until the last of her spasms quieted. She flopped onto her back and shuddered.
"Oh, yeah."
Hell, yeah.
But he wasn't about to give her time to think or relax or even catch her breath. Slowly, stealthily, he brought a finger to her again, tickling around her inner thighs, tugging gently at her curls, whisking around and around but never actually touching inside her.
"Stop that," she said, pushing at his hand. "You're teasing me." Her mound rose toward him, her thighs clamping together like she wanted to catch his hand and hold it there. "I want you inside me."
"No."
Her eyes popped open. "What do you mean, no?"
"Not yet," he said calmly, opening her folds with his thumbs and stroking once down the center of her before letting go.
"Okay, maybe this is a dumb question… but why the hell not yet?" Amanda looked a touch frustrated. If the clenched teeth and wild eyes were any indication.
But Danny didn't like to rush anything. He'd rushed through making love to Amanda the first time, and he was going to take this nice and slow. He was going to drag the pleasure out like chewing gum, long and taut.
"Because I want to do that again."
"That again?" she said, glancing at his mouth, her thighs trying to push closed as she yelped in surprise. "Nobody does that twice in a row… and there must be a good reason why. I don't think you should…"
Danny did a brief battle with her thighs, which he won. She wasn't really putting that much effort into it, and he was bigger. Once they were spread, he planted his elbows on them so she couldn't move, her protests spiraling into a heady moan.
"I want to do it again."
"Okay, okay, fine, do it, I don't want you to cry or anything…"
Her trembling sarcasm dwindled out when he did it again.
Put his mouth on her and tasted.
Chapter 22
Amanda lasted a whole delicious five minutes before she came the second time.
And she was pretty sure she only begged and whimpered once or twice.
When her body stopped convulsing and her pupils returned to their normal position, she let go of the comforter and wiped the drool off the corner of her mouth. "Okay, so I don't know why people don't do that twice in a row… of course, maybe they do and I don't know… but that was amazing… waaah!"
Amanda yelped when Danny gripped her thighs and rolled her over onto him. Her moist inner thighs collided with his chest, and her br**sts dangled over his forehead. "What the… ?"
But before she could even stabilize, he yanked her thighs toward the headboard, sending her chest flying back until she was… oh.
"Again," he said.
The man had baked his brains in the sun too long. She could not just sit there, on his mouth, not when she could barely feel her Jell-O legs and her lungs had collapsed somewhere on about the nine-hundredth moan.
"I… I…" She was trying to protest, but her lips were numb and her tongue was six sizes too big. And damn, damn, it felt good. It felt inside-out, hands-on, hot-damn kind of good, and she closed her eyes, arched her back, and rode his mouth.
When she came the third time—a sexual milestone marked with panting and incoherent religious babblings like "Help me, Jesus!"—Danny took pity on her.
In a move that would have her Ashtanga yoga instructor jealous, Danny had her dropped onto her back and was rolling on a condom before she could even swallow her spit. Nor did he expect her to untangle her trembling, useless legs, but just took it upon himself to spread them with his knees. And while Amanda tried to keep her eyes open and her heart from levitating out of her chest, Danny entered her with a hard thrust.
His groan was loud, agonized. Amanda had no ability left to moan, and no energy to even wrap her legs around him as he stroked in and out of her. Her body was so swollen, so excited, so overstimulated, that she was absolutely certain she'd never be able to walk again. She was just going to lie there for the rest of her life with Danny deep inside her and undulate like an inchworm.
Looking up at his face, seeing his excitement, hearing his wild, out-of-control bursts of pleasure, she figured it was a good use of her time. And what a plus that she was enjoying it too—so, so much.
Then he pulled completely out, and she yelped with surprise and horror. "What? What are you doing?" Oh, my God, she felt like a kid whose ice cream had fallen off the cone.
"I'm too close, too close," he panted.
"So?" She pried a hair off her lip and tried to uncross her eyes.
"I want you to be satisfied before I do." Sweat rolled down off his forehead toward his nose.
Amanda reached up and wiped it away, very much aware that she was staring at the best man she'd ever known. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. "In case you hadn't noticed, Mr. Unselfish, I already was satisfied three times. Now get back in there."
He kissed her. "Just remember that I love you. Truly love you."
She gripped his shoulders right as he joined them again, and she felt the tears prick, blurring her view of his strong, steady expression. He loved her, and she had done nothing to earn it. But maybe that was the gift of a pure love—no one had to justify or explain or perform tricks to deserve it. It just was.