Page 134 of Small Town, Big Storm

Along her sides, dipping beneath the thin tank top she wore to bed.Over silky skin, up to the plump curves of her breasts.

She moans again when I trace the underside.

“Good?”I ask.

A jerky nod.

“Have I told you how much I love the sound of your moans?”

“N-no?”

“Hmm.”I nip at her throat again, drag a finger up, circling the hard bud of her nipple.

“Storm,”she groans.

So do I.

“Hell, Poppyseed.You saying my name like that may be even better.”

“I—”

But I take advantage of her parted lips and taste her again, doing it deeply this time.So that when I roll her nipple between thumb and forefinger, I get that moan on my tongue.She wraps her leg over my hip, rocks her pelvis against mine.

I release her breast, slide my hand down and cup her ass, massaging the delicious globe and drawing her flush against me, matching her slow and steady rocking, leisurely driving us both insane.

“I can’t wait to be inside you again,” I rasp, grinding against her.“I can’t wait to feel you clamping around me, all hot and wet andslick.”

Her head drops back, cheeks flushed, lips swollen.

But she doesn’t tell me to stop.

In fact, she gives me the best gift of all—another moaned-out, “Storm.”

My dick is so damned hard it hurts, and my balls ache.I want to be inside her so fucking badly, it’s almost all I can think about.

It’s been so long.

She’s so fucking beautiful, so sexy, socloseto the edge already.

It won’t take long to coax her over, to feel her tightening around my dick?—

Slow.Easy.

She deserves more, deserves care and pleasure and patience.

So even though I want to tear off our clothes and thrust into her like a wild fucking animal until my orgasm tears through me, I grit my teeth, yank at the reins of my control, and focus on her, on what she likes.

The gentle touches and even pressure.

Deep kisses and dirty words.

She moans, her head writhing on the pillows, her hips bucking against mine.

“Maybe I’ll keep torturing you like this,” I murmur.“Keep getting you close to the edge and then stopping”—I put words to action—“waiting until you’re begging for more.”I bend so my lips are against hers.“Would you beg for my cock, baby?”

“Maybe,” she says, weaving her uninjured hand in my hair again, stopping me when I start to pull back, “I’llbe the one to tortureyou.”

“Mmm.”I kiss her deeply, only draw away when we’re both breathing heavy.“How would you torture me?”