always control myself when I am around you.”
His heat burned through the thin nightdress she wore while his hand continued to worry her nipple. “Let go of me. I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Liar,” he challenged. His hands returned to her hair, pulling with a little more force. Before Carla could squirm away, he captured her lips again. The force of the kiss stunned her and she opened her mouth to protest. His tongue took advantage of the entry point and swept inside, gliding over the moist walls of her mouth. Her pussy grew damp and she wondered at a man who could keep her constantly moist.
As if hearing her thoughts, Sinclair palmed her mound through her thin nightgown and the warmth of his skin pressing against her pussy sent her senses into overload. His lips left hers to nuzzle her neck and heat spiraled through her, making her clit twitch.
Unable to resist, Carla bumped her hand against his straining cock, the hardness thrilling her. She began to massage the thickness and Sinclair’s breath came out on a strangled gasp. God, he was so hard. She wanted to see him, to curl her fingers around his length, but Sinclair had other plans in mind.
He backed her toward the bed while one hand worked its way up under her nightgown. Goose bumps popped up on her skin and Carla’s knees went weak as his fingers tiptoed up her thigh. He pushed her down onto the mattress while his knuckles brushed over her panties. Her vision glazed. Surely, he could feel the wetness. He tickled her lightly and she fought to breathe, to focus on anything other than the wicked, delicious sensations buffeting her.
Edging her panties to one side, he glided one thick finger over the lips of her pussy with such softness that Carla’s breath snagged in her throat. His head lifted, eyes meeting hers. Her senses whirled around her like a kaleidoscope and she clutched at his arms. But when he brought that same finger to his lips and tasted her moisture, she closed her eyes, moaning in pure bliss.
“I want to put my fingers inside you, to sink deep into your pussy.” He stepped closer to her, his legs bumping against hers. “Is that what you want me to do, Carla?” His voice was husky and harsh.
She bobbed her head in agreement. What else could she say? Right now, she craved his touch as much as she needed caffeine in the morning. She wanted so much more than fingers. This was her fantasy, the images she’d created in her mind the night before she’d left to come to England. And she had no doubt, he could fulfill every one.
He pushed the hem of her nightgown up to her waist, hooked his hands into the waistband of her panties and yanked them down her legs. The silky material pooled around her ankles, but Carla didn’t bother to kick them off for Sinclair had already returned his attention to her pussy. His fingers dipped between her swollen lips and found her clit easily. She jerked and moaned as he began to stroke her lightly, then faster and faster until her ass bucked off the bed.
Carla couldn’t think. Perspiration coated her skin and her knees began to wobble. She hooked her hands into his shirt and brought him lower, reaching for his lips again. She kissed him frantically, desperately, the tongues meshing in wild, reckless abandon. Sinclair’s hand began a wild assault on her pussy, his fingers alternating between rolling her clit between calloused tips and delving into her creaminess. He thrust so deep she cried out, her muscles clenching around the thickness. Sinclair lifted his head to issue a command in a hoarse voice. “Say my name, Carla.”
She couldn’t deny him, not when she was so close. “Sinclair.”
“Let me feel your hot sweetness. I want to hear you come.” He increased the rhythm and pressing harder and faster.
She clawed at his shoulders and threw her head back while his thumb danced over her clit. “Oh God,”
she cried out. “I’m…” The orgasm clenched her muscles and sent them into spasms.
His heat burned through the thin nightdress she wore while his hand continued to worry her nipple. “Let go of me. I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Liar,” he challenged. His hands returned to her hair, pulling with a little more force. Before Carla could squirm away, he captured her lips again. The force of the kiss stunned her and she opened her mouth to protest. His tongue took advantage of the entry point and swept inside, gliding over the moist walls of her mouth. Her pussy grew damp and she wondered at a man who could keep her constantly moist.
As if hearing her thoughts, Sinclair palmed her mound through her thin nightgown and the warmth of his skin pressing against her pussy sent her senses into overload. His lips left hers to nuzzle her neck and heat spiraled through her, making her clit twitch.
Unable to resist, Carla bumped her hand against his straining cock, the hardness thrilling her. She began to massage the thickness and Sinclair’s breath came out on a strangled gasp. God, he was so hard. She wanted to see him, to curl her fingers around his length, but Sinclair had other plans in mind.
He backed her toward the bed while one hand worked its way up under her nightgown. Goose bumps popped up on her skin and Carla’s knees went weak as his fingers tiptoed up her thigh. He pushed her down onto the mattress while his knuckles brushed over her panties. Her vision glazed. Surely, he could feel the wetness. He tickled her lightly and she fought to breathe, to focus on anything other than the wicked, delicious sensations buffeting her.
Edging her panties to one side, he glided one thick finger over the lips of her pussy with such softness that Carla’s breath snagged in her throat. His head lifted, eyes meeting hers. Her senses whirled around her like a kaleidoscope and she clutched at his arms. But when he brought that same finger to his lips and tasted her moisture, she closed her eyes, moaning in pure bliss.
“I want to put my fingers inside you, to sink deep into your pussy.” He stepped closer to her, his legs bumping against hers. “Is that what you want me to do, Carla?” His voice was husky and harsh.
She bobbed her head in agreement. What else could she say? Right now, she craved his touch as much as she needed caffeine in the morning. She wanted so much more than fingers. This was her fantasy, the images she’d created in her mind the night before she’d left to come to England. And she had no doubt, he could fulfill every one.
He pushed the hem of her nightgown up to her waist, hooked his hands into the waistband of her panties and yanked them down her legs. The silky material pooled around her ankles, but Carla didn’t bother to kick them off for Sinclair had already returned his attention to her pussy. His fingers dipped between her swollen lips and found her clit easily. She jerked and moaned as he began to stroke her lightly, then faster and faster until her ass bucked off the bed.
Carla couldn’t think. Perspiration coated her skin and her knees began to wobble. She hooked her hands into his shirt and brought him lower, reaching for his lips again. She kissed him frantically, desperately, the tongues meshing in wild, reckless abandon. Sinclair’s hand began a wild assault on her pussy, his fingers alternating between rolling her clit between calloused tips and delving into her creaminess. He thrust so deep she cried out, her muscles clenching around the thickness. Sinclair lifted his head to issue a command in a hoarse voice. “Say my name, Carla.”
She couldn’t deny him, not when she was so close. “Sinclair.”
“Let me feel your hot sweetness. I want to hear you come.” He increased the rhythm and pressing harder and faster.
She clawed at his shoulders and threw her head back while his thumb danced over her clit. “Oh God,”
she cried out. “I’m…” The orgasm clenched her muscles and sent them into spasms.
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