Untitled (21 page)

      I slid my palm inside his waistband, finally making contact with his cock, eliciting a low groan from somewhere deep inside his chest, like the warning of a coming roar, and the last button popped out of place when my hand reached down the shaft and stroked the entire length of him in one swift movement.

      "Oh God!"

      And up again.

      "Fuck."

Tell me how it feels, how you like it.

      "Jesus, Piper!" He lowered his head to mine again, but didn't kiss me, merely breathed against my mouth in sharp, ragged, helpless gasps, touching his forehead to mine to steady himself.

      Tightening my grip on the down stroke, I smiled against his mouth when his breathing became even shallower and nearly lost it myself when for the first time in an age, he said one word that wasn't my name, a profanity or an exclamation of desire.

      "Please."

      My heart nearly stopped, my head dizzied, my legs trembled and I could do nothing but sink to my knees. Still gripping the base of his cock, I took the head between my lips, swirling my tongue around it faster with each gasp from Leo.

      I didn't feel his hands anywhere on me and imagined they were either gripping the countertop to keep him upright or hovering in midair again, unsure of where to go, what to touch, what to hold on to. And I liked that uncertain part of him, the part of him that was lost, the part which drove him to say please.

      And then they were on me; one on the back of my neck, the other stroking the top of my head as he pushed himself forward, not forcing too much of himself into my mouth, but just enough to let me know how much he wanted this.

      I stroked with one hand, allowing more of him into my mouth with each movement. Although he did nothing more than groan with each stroke of my hand along the shaft or my tongue along the underside of his cock as it traced the pulsating vein, I silently begged him to speak to me, prayed for him to regain his power of speech. Although the grip on the back of my neck, the occasional strokes of my hair, the guttural moans all conspired to tell me he was lost, there was hardly anything I found more of a turn on than a man telling me out loud how far gone he was.

      "Jesus, that feels good."

      Exactly what I wanted to hear.

      I moved faster, sliding my tongue down the shaft of his cock.

      "Fuck, Piper, what you're doing... it's unreal."

      His words only encouraged me to move in time with his rapid breathing, his moans. His response ignited a warmth in my groin which spread across my hips like something melting inside me, made every joint tingle and stole my arousal from his own.

      I'd gone down on guys before and it had never been something I did solely to please them. I'd always enjoyed it, but with Leo Carson...so appreciative, so vocal about his pleasure, I enjoyed it even more because yes, he got off on it and yes, he let me know he did, but something in his tone of voice, his moans, the urgent yet gentle pushing further in, damn near got me off too. So yes, I was being selfish as I stroked him, selfish as I used my hands to encircle the base of his cock and stroke him upwards as I brought my lips down to meet them, selfish as I closed my eyes and let the rhythm of his breathing guide me.

      "Piper..." He tried to speak but failed again and I guessed he was too close, had reverted to my name, Piper, and profanity, and "Please."

      I tasted the salty drops of pre-cum on the tip of his cock each time I pulled back and let my tongue linger there, teasing and tasting him at the same time. Each time I did pull back he groaned as if scared I would let him go completely, but just as his moans became helpless to the point of begging me not to stop in their own inarticulate way, I slid my lips down his shaft again, wringing from him a speechless gasp of wonder.

      The closer he got, the more breathless his sounds, until he was only able to mutter over and over again a near silent "Oh God, oh God..."

      He had no idea how much his loss of control turned me on, and when he finally managed to stutter out, "Pipe... I... I'm gonna..." the warmth in my groin grew to a near agonizing level. I wanted to pull him down next to me on the floor and demand he fuck me but that would have been the cruelest thing; I knew he wanted to come in my mouth despite the hand grasping my hair at the back of my head fighting to move me back. His hands wanted him to be a gentleman but his hips, juddering in front of me, pushing him forward, wanted him to find his release between my lips, on my tongue, down the back of my throat.

      "Piper... I'm... I... Fuck!" His last word before orgasm was a plea as well as a cry and I ignored his feeble attempts to pull me off him. Maybe he'd been with other women who didn't like this but going down on a man and suddenly stopping at the very moment he came seemed... pointless to me. I loved doing it just as much as Leo loved my mouth on him.

      "Fuck. Fucking hell." One of Leo's hands gripped the worktop behind him as I stood. The other rested on his forehead above his closed eyes and I licked my lips, waiting for him to come back down to earth.

      "You." He half-smiled, took his hand away from his face and leaned back against the kitchen units. "You are." He opened his eyes. "You are..."

      "I hope whatever you're thinking, it's a compliment."

      "How could it be anything but?" He pulled my waist with both hands, drew me up close and tried to kiss me but I turned away at the last second.

      "Careful. You sure you want to kiss me?"

      "Course. Why wouldn't I?"

      "You never know where my mouth's been."

      "Lady, after what you've just done, your mouth is the tamest place I'll be kissing you. Now come here."

       "Have you ever done this before?" I asked, crossed my cutlery on the dinner plate and set it beside Leo's on the coffee table.

      "Cooked a meal? No, never. How was it? I have a stomach pump out back if you start to feel ill."

      I cocked my head and glared, or tried to. "Ha bloody ha, Carson. You know what I meant. This. Us."

      "What, had sex? No, never. I was a virgin till I met you. And you stole my cherry." He wiped an imaginary tear away from the corner of his eye and sniffed melodramatically.

      "Oh really? You were a virgin until twenty-four hours ago?"

      "I was. And you used me."

      "You didn't know what you were doing?"

      "Didn't have a clue."

      "Well." I pressed my lips together to suppress the laugh I knew would only encourage him. Indeed, his own eyes crinkled up at the corners and his dimples were in evidence again. "You were awfully good at it."

      "Ah, you got me." He held his hands up in mock surrender and settled back into the sofa. "No, really, what did you mean? Have I ever done what before?"

      "Had a one night stand that ended up lasting all weekend?" Instantly I bit my lip and turned away, made out I was arranging myself comfortably on the sofa beside him. I folded my legs under me and pulled the tails of his shirt as far down my thighs as they would go, which wasn't very far.

      "Nope." He rested his arm on the sofa's low back behind me, and my heart skipped a beat. Okay, so I hadn't pushed it too far by asking him a direct question about his past and how it related to us. Not that there was an 'us'. "I've met very few women who were brave enough to try my cooking, too, so you're one of a very small group."

      "I was hungry."

      "I like to think I had something to do with that." As he relaxed, let his voice lower in volume, his Irish lilt became more pronounced, almost as musical as the CD he'd put on earlier when we'd sat down to eat. It was on low so one could only make out the words if the listener was familiar with the songs, and Hyde, now undercover again, was quiet, probably asleep.

      Leo cupped my chin, the tips of his fingers caressing my neck and made me face him. "And what about you? Have you ever done anything like this before?"

      I couldn't think what had possessed me to ask about his past in that way, but ask I had and he'd answered, volleying it back into my court in a way of which Roger Federer would've been proud.

      "No," I said quietly. He still held me, still studied me. He had a talent for making me feel scrutinized.

      Known.

      "Really," he all but whispered, nodding slowly. The tip of his tongue moistened his lips before he leaned in closer. "You seem..." A quiet huff of laughter. "You seem like a bit of a goer to me."

      The tension between us shattered when we burst into mutual laughter. "Mister Carson, whatever gave you that idea?"

      "Oh, lemme think... the fact I've fucked you three ways to Sunday...literally! It is Sunday? See? We're a couple made for clichés." He paused then, and his expression became marginally more serious. Maybe it was his use of the word 'couple' in passing, maybe he was thinking something he wasn't yet prepared to say out loud, but I let it pass.

      He licked his lips again, and his fingers, still on my throat, twitched. His thumb ran along my jaw, then his hand tightened almost imperceptibly but just enough so that I felt him draw me closer. "You know." His breath was a whisper on my lips and I nearly, nearly, nearly told him straight out to kiss me. "I should be at the point of physical exhaustion by now."

      I inclined my head a fraction. Go on, I'm listening.

      "There's something, hmm, I dunno. You're... what's the word I'm looking for?" His lips twitched in a smile as understated as my previous nod. So close now, we needed only minute movements to communicate. The barest breath, or touch, or word, were microcosms of what we intended to say. His lips agonizingly close to mine, he asked, "I might only be saying this 'cause I'm Irish but have you ever had the feeling the more you drink, the thirstier you get?"

      "Are you comparing me to salt water?"

      Leo's lips curved into a more obvious smile. "Yeah, I guess I am. Either that or crack-laced Guinness."

      "You silver-tongued devil." I dipped my head, gently so, so he'd know I wasn't trying to move away from his touch. My lips parted when they grazed the side of one of his fingers. With an upward glance I caught him biting his lip, trying—failing—to stifle the sharp intake of breath.

      "You, Piper Holt, are addictive. That's the word I was looking for. That's what you are. Addictive." In one swift movement he unbalanced me and threw me back.

      I screeched with laughter, surprise and delight as I scrambled in the opposite direction from him, or tried to.

      "Me and my silver tongue." Above me, leering, he waggled his eyebrows. "Doing devilish things to your most intimate parts."

      My laughter only quieted to silence when he pulled up the shirt, exposing me. I just could not understand why I had these moments, why I felt watched, observed, studied.

      "I knew I fancied something sweet for dessert."

      What would have been laughter choked in my throat and became something desperate, vulnerable, as he slipped a hand between my knees, moved one of my legs off the sofa and knelt on the floor. He followed the line his hand traced back up my leg with the very tip of his tongue, murmuring unintelligible words against me as he did so, making my skin tingle.

      "You," he said, lifting his head just enough for me to hear him now, "have got the sweetest taste." His tongue circled my clit, not touching, just circling, as one of his fingers teased my pussy.

      All smart replies disappeared from my mind as my body responded, pushed itself onto him. All I could think was, this is too intimate. This is too intimate. He's... he's... but I craved his touch; lightning bolts of pleasure shot up my spine from where his tongue flickered over me. He's done this before; why so shy now?

      Leo licked from my pussy up to my clit and when he touched me there at last, flickering the tip of his tongue back and forth, I gasped, tried to follow him with my hips, but he pulled back and looked down at me again.

      Don't look at me like that. Don't look at me like that.

      Pause.

      "Leo?"

      My use of his name seemed to shake him out of whatever had frozen him. "Sorry. I was just...looking."

      Well don't. It makes me uncomfortable. "Haven't you seen enough of me yet?"

      "You are kidding?" He bent his head again. Tasted me again. My pussy rippled against his tongue. "I could never see enough of you. Or taste enough."

      He slid a finger inside me. Two. Circled his fingertips against my G-spot in exactly the same rhythm his tongue played against my clit.

      "Oh God, Leo!"

      "Mmm," he murmured against my inner thigh. "Piper Holt." He nudged me with his mouth, tasting my skin, the wetness around my pussy of which even I was aware and made the motion of his fingers that much slicker. Still tender inside, I gasped.