“Take a guess, Einstein.”
Sean looked up into her face when he registered the edge in her tone. She couldn’t help it. She smiled.
“Genny.”
Something in his voice made her eyelids sting when she blinked. Or maybe it was that he lowered his burnished head and inserted an aching nipple between his lips. She stared up at the ceiling, tears blinding her as he agitated her nipple with his slightly rough, warm tongue, then ever so gently—ever so sweetly—suckled off the butter that he’d applied to the straining tips.
It was such a potent, precise stimulation that Genevieve could hardly stand it. It felt like too much . . . too much sensation, too much emotion . . . too much need. But her restraints kept her firmly in place and she couldn’t escape her desire.
Later, Genny couldn’t say how long he made love to her breasts with his mouth and hands, but by the time he lifted his head, she was mindless with need . . . right on the verge of climax.
Sean blinked as he stared at her face, as though he’d just awakened from a dream. The fact that suckling her breasts could transport him so utterly only sent her desire into unforeseen territory.
“Don’t be cruel,” she whispered.
“Aww, girl. I’m not being cruel. I love you. I want to make you burn.”
“Then touch me. Make me come.”
He considered her soberly for a moment. “You know, sometimes the burn is so much better if you push at the boundaries just a tad.”
His blazing eyes flicked down to the juncture of her thighs and back up to her heaving breasts. Genevieve gave a tortuous moan when he softly kissed a wet nipple. Speech had left her. Her body trembled. “Look how red they are,” he whispered. Even his warm breath kept her riding the crest of orgasm. “You have the sweetest nipples.”
She gave a strangled cry.
He glanced up into her face as he gathered her breasts in both hands, pushing the distended crests together. “Hmmm, look at that girl. A feast.” Genevieve made a desperate, gurgling noise in her throat, as if her desire could choke her. The hard glint of a challenge gleamed in Sean’s eyes. “I think I’ll fuck these beauties here in a moment. But first . . . do you think you could come for me?” Genevieve nodded her head eagerly, her breath stuck in her lungs. “Without me touching your pussy?”
Her eyes widened. She wasn’t sure how to respond . . . couldn’t respond, because then Sean lowered his head and laved both nipples at once with his warm tongue. Then he pressed her flesh into his hot mouth and suckled both nipples at once.
And Genevieve gave both of them her answer about whether she could come from nipple stimulation alone.
She cried out sharply, the orgasm having a tight, painful quality without genital stimulation. She was only vaguely aware of Sean’s warm murmurs of praise.
A shout suddenly erupted out of her throat as orgasm blasted through her full force. She lifted her head, still shuddering in climax. What she saw made her cry out more sharply in blinding ecstasy. He’d parted her labia. His tongue slid over her clit, rapid, precise, and hard.
He’d been
so
right. Pushing at the boundaries of her desire had made the explosion exponentially more powerful.
When she felt Sean move on the bed moments later, her eyelids opened heavily. Her heavy panting stilled for a moment when she saw the rigid expression on his face as he came closer, eventually kneeling with his knees next to her shoulders.
His cock looked furiously aroused jutting from his fly.
His hand shook slightly when he fisted the stalk.
“You’re so damned beautiful, Genny. Seeing you give yourself like that—I’m the one who’s about to spontaneously combust. Open those pretty lips.”
But Genny was already spreading her mouth to accommodate his girth. He grunted, low and feral, as he slid along her tongue, coating it with the pre-cum that seeped from the slit. His swollen flesh filled over mouth and overpowered her senses. His flavor permeated her awareness, making her hungrier. She closed tightly around him and sucked.
For all she was worth.
He’d given her so much pleasure just now. She was overwhelmed with a need to make him loosen his own restraints. She wanted to goad him into releasing his own inhibitions, to lose himself in pleasure . . . to ride her fast and free.
A harsh groan tore out of his throat as she suckled him deeper.
“Aw, girl. Do you want it that much?” he grated out.
Genevieve felt the tip of his cock brush her throat, but the palpable desire surging through her veins helped her quiet her gag reflex. Her throat convulsed, but she kept him deep, breathing through her nose.
She nodded once subtly.
“God, you’re sweet,” he muttered. He placed his hands on the headboard and began to thrust in and out of her mouth.
He wasn’t exactly gentle with her. In fact, he bucked furiously between her lips. Tears ran down her cheeks, but Genevieve loved the rough treatment . . . loved seeing him release his inhibitions, relished in seeing him ride the wave of pure pleasure. All she had to do was look up into his face and see his grimace of intense ecstasy, see the wildness in his blue eyes as he watched himself fuck her mouth, and Genevieve became as transported as Sean had been while he’d made love to her breasts.
His grunts and moans of uncensored pleasure fell like the sweetest of music on her ears.
She felt his cock swell in her mouth. He glanced up into her face as he slid between her straining, tightened lips.
Her gaze must have matched the abandoned intensity of his, because he pushed his cock slowly into her throat until his balls pressed to her lips. It was the first time she’d ever taken him fully that way. Her throat convulsed around him, and for a split second, she instinctively panicked at the blockage. But then she heard him shout out his release, and she forced herself to breathe through her nose. Her eyes widened when she felt the spasm of his cock and she realized he came directly into her throat, making swallowing unnecessary.
He withdrew almost immediately, shooting the rest of his semen onto her tongue. She stared at his clenched face as she struggled to keep up with the volume of his ejaculations.
Her throat was raw by the time she cleaned the irregular spills erupting from his slit with her tongue. As always, those moments when the tension slowly left his muscles struck her as poignant. A little sad.
A reminder that, sometime soon, Sean would once again be absent from her life.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
H
e withdrew and slid his knees down the bed. He collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily. She nuzzled his cheek and jaw while he attempted to catch his breath.
“You didn’t have to, Genny,” he mumbled between gasps of air. He lifted his head slightly, pinning her with a blue-eyed stare. “All you have to do is shake your head, and I’ll always ease up.”
“I wanted to, Sean.”
He grimaced when he heard her roughened voice and buried his face in her neck. For a minute he said nothing while his body slowly regained equilibrium. Genevieve became hyperaware of the movement of his rib cage pressed against hers. She could feel his strong heart running fast in his chest . . . felt it slowing until it seemed to match the rate of the throb of her own pulse in her throat.
Her muscles grew deliciously heavy, not just with Sean’s weight, but her own growing lassitude. She felt as if she could sink right through the mattress . . .
“I don’t get how you could have so much trust in me that you give up your very breath to give me pleasure, but yet you were going to run away from me earlier.”
Genevieve blinked open her leaden eyelids at the sound of his deep, rough voice. For a few seconds, she didn’t reply, thinking about his volatile words.
“I thought it was for the best, Sean,” she rasped eventually.
He raised his tawny head. Genevieve wished he’d release the restraints. She experienced an overwhelming need to touch him.
“You think it’s for the best to deny how we feel about each other? How
you
feel about me, Genny?”
“We don’t have a choice, Sean.”
“You mean that
you
think
you
don’t have a choice. I choose to be with you, Genny. I
always
have.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Don’t, Sean. Don’t push it. Not now.” Her lower lip quivered uncontrollably as she entreated him with her gaze. She felt so raw at that moment . . . so exposed.
“Please.”
“Why not
now
?
Why
can’t we talk about it?”
“Sean, don’t.”
“Why can’t we talk about it now, Genny?” he persisted.
“Because this time here . . . for this day, for this night, for these next few hours, it’s
all
the time we’ll have, Sean,” she exclaimed. “Why should we ruin it, badgering each other and rehashing things that are over and done and we can’t change, no matter how much we want it. No matter how much we wish it—”
She inhaled raggedly.
His face collapsed with regret. He kissed her cheeks while he murmured her name. “I’m
not
going to let anything happen to you. I’m not,” he said as he pressed his lips to her burning eyelids.
Genevieve blinked open and pushed her head back on the pillow so she could better see his face. A mixture of pain and determination pinched his features. He’d done nothing less just now than utter a solemn vow.
“Don’t worry about me, Sean. I’m fine—”
“No, you’re not. You’re so worried your muscles are about to break from tension. The only time I see you release it is when I’m making love to you.” His pressed his mouth to hers in a warm kiss. “Which means I’m about to do it again. But there’s something I really need to ask you first, Genny.”
Something about his tone made her muscles stiffen even more. God, Sean was right about her anxiety level. When Sean started to speak, however, she knew she had a right to be nervous.
“On the afternoon of Max’s death,” he began gently, “you tried to call me several times. I didn’t answer because I was in a meeting, and I had my phone turned off. What were you calling me about, Genny?”
It felt like a fist inside of her stomach had just grabbed an organ and twisted. She flinched and turned her face away from Sean.
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
Sean exhaled slowly, but she could feel his stubborn determination like a steely blade pressed against her throat. He wasn’t going to give up.
“You said we couldn’t talk about New Year’s Eve. This isn’t about New Year’s Eve. This morning I was down in my office, going over some possibilities for what could be happening with the fire and the break-ins. I opened up some old files concerning Max’s death. One of the unanswered questions I have is why you tried to call me on that day. You never would tell me.”
She kept her cheek pressed to the pillow, refusing to answer.
“Look at me, girl.”
Something in his tone made her turn her chin. His blue eyes shone with feeling. “There’s nothing you could do, nothing you’ve ever done, that would make me stop loving you.”
Misery rose up in her, making her gasp. Tears sprayed out of her eyes as a tsunami of emotion crashed into her.
“Oh, God, Sean,
don’t
. Stop it
. Stop
it.”
His face twisted in shared pain. He leaned down and kissed the tears on her cheeks, as if he could transform those drops into something other than marks of sorrow by his love for her.
But he couldn’t. Their love for each other wasn’t enough to erase the sins of the past, and the knowledge of that wrenched inside Genevieve like a twisting knife. She writhed beneath him in a paroxysm of emotion. It felt unbearable . . . untenable, this swelling pain. But then in the midst of her misery she became aware of the friction of their rubbing, naked skin, the weight of Sean’s hard male body pressing her down on the mattress. When Sean kissed the side of her mouth softly, still making soothing sounds, Genevieve turned and seized his mouth in a searing kiss.
She felt him go rigid as she ate at his mouth hungrily, and then penetrated his lips with a searching tongue. She knew why he stiffened like somebody who had been jolted with electricity; all the anguish he’d brought to the surface with his questions, all the love, found a conduit of release through that kiss.
She told him everything with it.
At first, he remained stiff, surprised by her onslaught of emotion. But when she began to slide her tongue in and out of his mouth in a sensual, bold seduction, he gave a low, feral growl. He placed both hands on the sides of her breasts, his fingers spreading across her rib cage, lifting her slightly off the mattress, holding her pounding heart in his hands. His tongue delved deep, taking her in the way she wanted . . .
needed
to be taken, possessing her as only Sean could.
In the distance, she heard her phone ringing, but she was so swept up in swamping emotion and pleasure that she couldn’t have cared less. A montage of sensory information mixed and swelled in her brain as Sean branded her with his mouth, and she answered with her own boiling, frothing need.
His head lowered. He continued to hold her rib cage off the bed. Genevieve moaned roughly when he began to feed on her breasts, his hunger as wild and intense as that of a man who had been deprived of a woman’s flesh for years. She twisted in an agony of pleasure, but the restraints and Sean’s firm hold made escape impossible.
Not that she wanted to escape. It was just so damn difficult to exist at the white-hot core of so much pleasure. Of so much feeling.
“Oh, God. Uncuff me. I want to touch you so bad, Sean.” He glanced up at her with fiery eyes, his lips still shaped around the tip of her breast. His nostrils flared. Her vagina clenched, needing to be filled. She whimpered when his divine suction lessened and he slowly lifted his head.