The Play Mate (Roommates, #2)

Her breasts were high and full, her waist nipped in and trim enough to span with my hands . . . hands that itched to touch her. She moved toward me, closing the distance between us. Her smile was sweet but a little wicked as she reached out and wrapped those lean, elegant fingers around my throbbing cock.

I bucked forward and groaned, arching my hips into her tentative grasp. Fuck, yeah. No guilt here. Only a wizard could control their dreams, and I was nobody’s wizard.

Her grip tightened as I laid my hand over hers, urging her to work my shaft up and down in long, slow strokes.

“Jesus,” I growled, reaching up to fist my hand in her hair.

It was that . . . the sound of my own voice, that brought me fully back to consciousness. The pond and naked Evie in the moonlight were gone, but the hand on my cock? Still at it, and doing a fine fucking job.

Francesca.

A slow smile tugged up my lips. She must have figured out a way to bribe the front-desk clerk to let her into my room. It was a ballsy move, but I didn’t hate it. Especially now, as she straddled my thighs.

I’d heard that French women were more sexually forward.

Viva la France!

Totally not how I’d expected to end the night, but I’d gone to bed all keyed up and could use the release. No chance I’d be kicking a gorgeous woman out of my bed, whether she’d broken some laws to get in it or not.

I reached up and spanned her waist in my hands, letting out a groan as I realized her skin was bare. It was too dark to see, but my fingertips were doing a fine job of cataloging what my eyes couldn’t.

“You’re killing me,” I muttered. Now that I’d released her hand, her strokes grew tentative, more languid, and the need for more was clawing at me hard. “Tease.”

Her breathy laugh was more like a gasp as I let my fingers trail up her sides to brush against the underside of her breasts. Strange, I had remembered them being larger. Almost too large for her body, but as I cupped her tits now, they felt just right. The full, soft globes fit perfectly in my hands, her nipples taut in my palms as I caressed her.

She moaned softly under her breath, the sound almost like a relieved sigh. The motion of her hand increased as I plucked one nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Her hips started rocking against my thighs, and her breathing grew choppy.

“So responsive, just how I like it,” I managed through gritted teeth. “That feel good, baby?”

She moaned a noise of affirmation, and that was good enough for me.

“Now, stroke that dick, sweetheart,” I said on a groan.

Her careful strokes were torture. She wasn’t going to hurt me. In fact, I didn’t mind when sex got a little rough.

I released her breasts and removed her hand from my shaft. After placing a wet, open-mouthed kiss against her palm, I wrapped it back around me, groaning when her grip tightened possessively and pumped again.

I sat up, and her scent surrounded me. It had been more cloying at the restaurant. Now, though, she smelled sweet. Like hotel soap and something citrusy. I buried my face into her neck and breathed deeply before closing my teeth over the spot where her pulse fluttered wildly.

“Mmm . . .”

She released my cock and pressed in closer, curling her arms around my neck and resting her forearms on my shoulders.

I nibbled and sucked, reveling in the feel of her soft chest crushed against my hard one.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

The rocking grew more insistent and had become more of a slow grind. The rhythm was inconsistent and a little hesitant, so I took control, cupping her round hips in my hands and using them to work her over my straining erection. Her silky panties were soaked, heating me to the point of combustion as I tore my mouth from her neck and slanted it over her lips.

Jesus, those lips. So plump and sweet and soft. Kissing her was like heaven. I could only imagine what that mouth would feel like wrapped around my swollen cock. I dug my fingers into her hips and increased the pace, needing the pressure . . . knowing she needed it just as badly.

She threw her head back and let out a muffled moan that sounded like a plea.

If she wanted more, then I wouldn’t deny her.

I slid her off me and hooked a finger inside those wet little panties, snapping the slender string that held them together with one tug.

She gasped as I pressed her back against the mattress, and I only wished I could see her body as I slid down the bed and hunkered down between her thighs. I traced her silky skin from hip to hip, letting my fingers drop lower with each pass. By the time I nudged her slick clit with my thumb, she was close to sobbing.

“Shh, it’s okay, ” I murmured, making sure my warm breath feathered her pussy as I spoke. “I’m going to take good care of you.”

I could hear her head tossing restlessly against the pillow as I passed my thumb over her again, groaning when I encountered that wet heat.

“Jesus, you’re soaked for me,” I said, my cock bucking against the mattress with the need to get inside her.

Her breath was coming so fast now, it sounded like she’d run a marathon. I dipped my face lower until a tiny swatch of downy hair tickled my lips. Then I took a long, deep lick.

“Ahhhh!”

Vaguely, I realized her voice sounded different, but I imagined mine did too. Lust did that to a person. Before I could think on it for another second, her hips shifted hesitantly, pressing her pussy directly into my mouth.

Perfect.