Sinners at the Altar (Page 61)

“Isn’t that counter cold?” he asked, moving to stand between her legs.

“I’m so hot for you, I hardly noticed.”

His chest swelled with what had to pride and he kissed her deeply, nudging her hand from her self-inflicted pleasure so he could claim the victory of making her come. He slipped two fingers inside her and massaged her clit with his thumb. She groaned into his mouth. Unable to resist the allure of watching his fingers claim her, he tugged his mouth away and stared down to where they were buried in her silky heat. He worked them in and out, churning them in wide arcs to watch her flushed and swollen flesh accept his invasion.

Rebekah’s hands moved to rest on his shoulders, and she pressed down almost imperceptibly, but he knew what she wanted. She wanted him to eat. And he was suddenly starving. He kissed his way down her chest, pausing at her breasts to kiss and suck and nibble her pebbled nipples. Her fingers dug into his scalp, and she rocked against his hand, murmuring soft moans of encouragement as he rammed his fingers deeper, stretched her wider, and tapped her clit with his thumb to remind her where his lips would soon be. He moved lower, sucking feather-light kisses down her trembling belly. He nibbled her clean-shaven mons, delivering sharp nips that made her beg for what she actually wanted.

“Oh please, Eric. Please,” she whispered.

He grinned. He would win this round for sure. When his tongue slid into her seam and brushed against her clit, her body jerked. He flicked her clit rapidly with the tip of his tongue, gave it a hard suck, then rubbed it with the flat of his circling tongue.

Her pussy was soaked—from their combined cum from earlier and her freely flowing juices. The excess lubrication made it easy for him to slip his little finger into her ass.

“Oh God, Eric!” she said. “You are the best multifunction vibrator ever made.”

He chuckled and used her compliment as inspiration, pressing his lips against her clit and blowing steady vibrations through her flesh. She cried out as she shattered with orgasm. He finger-fucked her while her body, consumed in the throes of passion, strained and jerked violently.

When she settled a bit, she pulled him up against her so she could wrap her arms and legs around him and rest her head against his shoulder. Her heart thudded hard and fast against his chest, and her breath warmed the skin over his collarbone in shaky bursts. His right hand was still buried between her thighs, but he wrapped his left arm around her back to hold her close.

“I win,” she said with a breathless chuckle. “Current score: two big Os for Rebekah, Eric one.”

“I can still catch up,” he said.

“If I let you,” she said in a teasing tone.

“That sounds like a challenge. I can still go back to my old ways, you know.” He’d always been able to come frequently. It was the duration of the buildup that he used to struggle with.

“After all my hard work to get you past that?” She leaned back to look at him, and her smirk belayed her willingness to work with him again if necessary.

His smartass remark was interrupted by her belly grumbling with hunger. He jerked back to give her tummy an appraising look and pulled his hand free from the snug passages between her thighs.

“The pie was divine,” Eric said. “But how about some cake and maybe some leftover lasagna? Even though I just sampled pie, I’m still hungry and you haven’t eaten anything.”

“Maybe I’ll have a large, hard sausage for dessert. I’ll eat it formally in the dining room.”

He grinned. She was ready for their third match already? There would be no complaints out of him.

She kissed him briefly and then hopped off the counter. “I’ll be right back,” she said and sauntered off to the half bath in the hall. He wanted a piece of that hot ass next, he decided, so he could stare at the name tattooed across her lower back. His name.

When she disappeared from sight, he washed his hands in the sink and humming under his breath, popped the leftover lasagna in the microwave. Myrna had made it for his birthday celebration a few days before. The smell of tomatoes, Italian herbs, cheese, and sausage began to fill the room as the food warmed. A pair of soft lips kissed the middle of his back, and Rebekah’s small hands circled his waist. His cock had started to soften again but rose with distracting rapidity as she stroked his length gently between her palms.

“Damn, woman, can’t a man eat before you demand additional satisfaction?”

“You just had pie,” she reminded him. “I’m the one who hasn’t eaten yet.”

He groaned as her thumbs massaged his cockhead gently. Neither one of them was going to get any sustenance if she kept that up.

“We already christened this room,” he reminded her. “Save it for the dining room.”

“I figured if I make you come here, the dining room will be my victory as well.”

“You’re willing to resort to cheating?” He chuckled and opened the cabinet next to the microwave to pull out a pair of plates, loving the fact that he needed two. “I never realized how competitive you are.”

“I love to win,” she said, her hand moving between his legs to cup his heavy balls. “Especially when the prize is you.”

“The prize is breakfast in bed, remember?” He set the plates on the counter and closed his eyes, pretending nonchalance as his flesh pulsated with pleasure beneath her gentle touch.

“You’re the real prize,” she whispered and kissed trails of tingly delight down his spine. “I’m so glad I won you.”