never been one to rush sex. And it seemed neither was she. She took her time exploring his mouth and moving against him in small subtle movements that made him wish they were naked. But he didn’t want to stop kissing her to remove their clothes.
She circled her finger around the back of his ear, rubbing against the side of his neck, which made him so hot and hard that he thought he would explode.
He put his hands on her thighs. Her legs were firm and the skin soft. She wasn’t wearing hose, so he was touching her bare skin as he spread his fingers wide and squeezed gently.
She shifted her legs against his as he traced one finger up the back of her thigh. She mumbled something against his lips, but he didn’t register the words, just the husky tone of her voice and the way she continued to move against him. Her mouth followed the path of her finger down his neck. His shirt fell open as she moved down his body.
Pushing the hem of her dress up to her waist, he noticed she had on the tiniest black thong. She shifted, kicking off her heels and sitting back as she looked down at his body. He had an intense workout routine to keep in shape. Other athletes didn’t always realize the discipline it took to be a driver.
Marielle seemed to like his muscled chest. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and he sat up, shrugging out of first one sleeve and then the other.
He had a tattoo on the inside of his left arm that read, If Everything Seems Under Control, You’re Not Going Fast Enough. She traced the tattoo and arched one eyebrow as she looked back at him.
“Does everything seem under control?” she asked.
“No, it doesn’t,” he said, wrapping one hand in her long blond hair and bringing his mouth back down on hers.
He didn’t want to talk or think about racing right now. He had been steadily getting better on the track, and a big part of him believed that was because he’d quit hooking up with women, but tonight he didn’t want to think about that. It had been too long, she felt too good and it was a new year.
She put one hand between them on his chest. Her fingers spread wide, and her nails scored his skin lightly. He shuddered and felt himself harden further. She eased her hips forward, her center rubbing against the ridge of his erection.
He groaned as his hips jutted up against her. Oh, damn. This was going to be harder than he thought. It had been too long since he’d held a woman in his arms, and his body seemed to be on autopilot. Like when he was on the final lap and saw the finish line, he was ready to go. He reached between their bodies, intent on freeing himself, finding a condom and driving himself home inside her.
But the back of his fingers brushed against her underwear, and he felt her heat. She made a little sound at the touch against her intimate flesh, and he turned his hand, cupping her and rubbing just the tip of his forefinger between her legs. She spread her thighs farther apart, and he leaned back to give himself more room as he ran his finger around the edge of her thong panties and then dipped it inside, finally pushing his entire hand into the front of her underwear and caressing her. He parted her, tapping her clit lightly. She moaned, and her fingernails dug into his chest a little deeper. He tangled his other hand in her hair and brought his mouth down on hers.
He kissed her as he continued to tap against her, her hips moving subtly. Then she tore her mouth from his and reached for the hem of her dress, drawing it up and over her head, throwing it behind them.
He saw her breasts, small but perfectly naked, and her tiny nipped-in waist. She reached between their bodies and undid his belt and then slowly lowered his zipper.
“I want you naked,” she said.
“Me too. Are you on the pill?”
“Of course I am. I don’t like taking chances.”
“Me either,” he said.
She shifted off his lap, and he pushed his pants and underwear down his legs. By the time he was naked, so was she. She turned back to him, standing there in front of him completely bare, and he took a moment to appreciate how lovely she was. She wasn’t built like a supermodel but was more of a real woman. Her legs weren’t especially long but seemed just right to him. She had a birthmark on her left side that was shaped like a paint splotch; he couldn’t help himself and caressed it, tracing the shape. She had a belly button ring, which he fondled as he used his other hand to draw her back into his arms.
She fell against him, and he rolled over so she was under him. She put her hands on his waist and then squeezed as she ran her hands down his sides. He honestly wasn’t sure how much more touching he could handle before he came on her belly, which wasn’t how he wanted this to end, so he took her hands in his and stretched them up above her on the bed.
He watched her carefully to see if this bothered her, but she just winked at him. “Maybe I’ll let you tie me up later.”
His hips jerked forward at the thought and he could only nod; words were beyond him at this moment. He held her wrists with one hand and drew his index finger down her body, starting at her forehead. She had a pert nose that he couldn’t help dropping a kiss on as he drew his touch down farther, over her lips and her neck and then around the full globes of each breast. He lowered his mouth to one of her nipples while he teased the other one with his fingers.
Then he moved lower, tasting her belly button ring with his tongue, and felt her undulate against him as he moved still lower. He fanned his fingers out and cupped her, running his finger around the opening of her body and then bringing it up to tap against her clit again. She shifted against him, her legs going wider as he brought his mouth lower, wanting—needing—to taste her. He had to let go of her hands, but he felt enough in control that he thought that would be okay.
He was wrong.
She tasted better than anything he’d ever tasted before. He couldn’t get enough. His tongue flicked over her and then his entire mouth ate at her most intimate flesh until she shoved her hands in his hair and held his head to her body as her hips thrust upward against him.
She rocked against him again and again and then called out his name as her orgasm rolled through her.
He lifted his head and looked up her body. Her head was thrown back and her chest was heaving, her nipples tight little buds. Her hips were still rocking slightly, and he knew he’d never forget how she looked right now. He moved up her body, letting his chest brush over her mound and then her stomach and her breasts. He braced his weight with his hands on either side of her shoulders. She opened her eyes, looking up at him with that silvery gaze of hers, but up close her eyes were silvery gray.
“Well, hello there,” she said.
“Hi.”
She twined her arms around his shoulders and leaned up to whisper directly into his ear. “Are you going to take me now?”
His hips moved against her, the tip of his erection finding her opening. He met her eyes and leaned down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on his lips.
“Yes,” he said against her mouth as he drew back his hips and drove himself deep inside her.
She was tight when he entered her, and he waited to let her adjust to his size. She wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her upper body so that her hard nipples brushed against his chest each time he drove into her. He wanted her passion to build to climax again, but now that he was inside her, it was the same as being strapped into the cockpit of his race car—there was no stopping him. The light had flashed green for go, and he had one objective in mind.
He rode her hard, driving into her again and again, and as he felt the sensation running down his back that meant he was closer and closer to his orgasm, he reached between their bodies, flicking at her clit to help her along. She arched under him, her nails digging into his shoulders.
“Inigo,” she cried.
The sound of his name on her lips triggered his orgasm and he started to come, thrusting into her until he was empty and drained. She arched against him repeatedly, and when they