Page 19 of Brazilian Fantasy
H
is thumbs brush my nipples, and they harden. “Caralho, girl. You look good in my clothes.”
“What does Caralho mean?”
“It means ‘fuck.’”
“Oh, I like that word.” Even though I don’t want him to stop touching me, I inch back, grab the hem, and pull the shirt over my head. “How do I look out of them?” I ask. My God, I’ve never been so bold before. Maybe I really am a bad girl at heart, a girl who likes to be watched, and it took a man like Lucas to show me that. The truth is I’ve never had a man pay such close attention to me.
Honest to God, how can I ever be with another after him?
His heated gaze roams my naked body, pleasure and need dancing in those dark eyes. “Much better,” he says, and when he reaches for me again, I dive into the deep end. I swim away, but the splashes behind me let me know that I’m not going to get too far. Good. I don’t want to.
Lucas captures me from behind and pulls me against him. We burst from the water, and his lust-imbued eyes meet mine.
“I thought we were swimming,” I say, playing innocent.
He stares at me with a raw hunger that is palpable, his eyes burning with fiery intensity. I’m sure the sexual need arcing between us can be felt by half the neighborhood. Good. Let the sharks know he’s off the market. Well, he’s not really. But for the next few weeks, I plan to keep him occupied.
He touches my chin. “We’ll swim, but first, this.”
His mouth finds mine, and he kisses me deeply, his tongue sliding, tasting with a need so intense a shiver racks my body. I wrap my legs around him, and he pulls me against his hard erection as he walks to the shallow end to set me on one of the steps. Seated with my legs in the water and his crotch near my face, I reach out and press my palm to his cock.
He’s so hard for me.
He closes his hand over mine to hold it there as he jerks forward, a soft moan in his throat. “I want you so fucking bad,” he says. “Not even the cold water can keep me from getting hard.”
I grin, but my insides are flittering with excitement at how much he wants me. I try to keep the emotions at bay—this is just sex—but damn, when he says things like that, I lose the battle and get all the girly feels.
“I want you, too,” I respond. It’s true. I do want him. In fact, I want him so much it’s a bit scary. I mean, I was complacent with my ex, but the excitement, the deep need I feel with Lucas—a man I barely know, but who seems to know my inner needs so well—is new to me, unfamiliar. “Let me show you how much.”
I tug on his swimsuit and free his cock. Why, hello there. It springs forward, and I pull him into my mouth. He tastes warm and salty, as I lick his long length with my hot tongue.
He grips my wet hair and moves his body so he can see me taking him in. “You are so good at that,” he murmurs.
My heart beats a little faster, a thrill moving through me. I love that I can do this to him—for him. I love seeing him happy, and for me, pleasing him like this is as exciting as hang-gliding.
“You’re going to make me come.”
I give a moan of consent, and I work my mouth harder, massaging his cock, eager for him to do just that.
“Fuck, yes,” he murmurs. He rocks into me, his cock going deep into my throat as his hips jerk forward. “You want me?” he asks.
I nod and cup his balls. They draw up. Damn, he’s so close.
“But if I come in your mouth, what am I going to do to fill your pussy?”
My body vibrates with need, my sex muscles clenching, aching for something to grip on to with each pulse. Lord, if he keeps up with the dirty talk, I won’t even need to be touched to orgasm.
“How about we try three big fingers? That should fill you up nicely.” He growls, his body shaking like he’s trying to hold back. I won’t have any of that. I want him to let go, forget about everything but coming in my mouth.
I work my tongue harder, take him impossibly deeper, and use my hand on his shaft as I massage his balls.
“Fuck,” he cries out as he spurts hot cum down my throat. I swallow his tang, and drink him all in. When he stops spasming, he inches back, his cock sliding from my mouth. He gazes at me like I’m something to be cherished, worshiped, as he wipes my bottom lip with his thumb. His other hand goes to my throbbing sex. “I need my mouth right here.”
Well, who am I to deny what he needs?
I moan with want. “Yes, please…” I whisper.
