God, she was so feminine. So warm. So perfectly supple.
At first, Quinn feared he’d freeze up. But faced with Libby’s naked body spread out in a sumptuous feast, when he’d been starving for her for months, something instinctual kicked in.
He swept his fingertips through the oil, hoping it’d lessen the abrasiveness of his callused hands. He played connect the dots with her moles and freckles, promising himself he’d use his tongue next time. Once the oil glistened across her torso, he began to rub it in.
If her sighs and moans were any indication, he must’ve been doing something right.
Quinn worked his thumbs into the tensed muscles stretching across her back, rounding to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Then he gradually moved down her spine, a vertebra at a time. When he reached the sexy dimples above her ass, an area he remembered as highly sensitive, he decreased the pressure. His touches became playful. As Quinn drew ever-widening circles, she arched into his teasing caresses.
Instantly, his mouth was by her ear. “Something you need?”
“Yes. No. I…I wanted to tell you I love the way you’re touching me.”
“Good.” He smiled against her damp neck and rained kisses along her nape, pleased as punch when gooseflesh broke out beneath his questing lips.
Quinn continued his sensual assault. His hands mapped her every tempting curve, his fingers soothed every quivering muscle. When he finished tormenting one area, he’d scatter openmouthed kisses over each inch of bared flesh before focusing his attention on the next trembling section.
When he completed his final pass to those alluring dimples, he caught a whiff of Libby’s arousal. A primal male need slammed into him. His chance of tamping it down vanished, especially when he noticed her hips bumping up to meet his every touch.
Libby faced the screen, almost as if she was hiding her reaction from him.
Oh hell no. That wouldn’t do at all.
As Quinn put his lips to her ear, he traced the crack of her ass down to where her body was warm and sticky. He groaned in her hair. “Lemme touch you here.”
“No!” Libby’s shoulders shot up.
Quinn pushed them back down. “Yes.”
“But we aren’t supposed to—”
“Aren’t supposed to what? Ain’t no rules but mine. This is my show, remember? Raise your hips higher so I can reach your sweet spot.”
She had a moment of hesitation before she complied.
“That’s my girl.” Quinn slid his first and middle fingers through the sweet cream pouring from her sex, combining it with the oil, swirling the mixture up. After a few concentrated strokes, he slipped his fingers into her pussy, letting her clit rest on the bony section at the base of his thumb.
“Oh. That does feel really good.”
He wiggled his fingers around the snug channel, satisfaction filled him at seeing her writhing and trying to force his fingers deeper.
“What?” Quinn was in a fog of lust. His need to prove he could still satisfy his mate became a single-minded pursuit.
At her whispered plea, “Faster,” Quinn lost it. Pumping his fingers inside her, he growled in her ear,
“I wanna fuck you like this, darlin’ wife. Face down on the dining room table, no foreplay, just hard, fast fucking. Poundin’ into this pussy until you scream.”
“Yes. God. Yes.”
“Give it to me, Libby. Come around my fingers. Prove to me you love the way only I can make you come.”
“Ssh. When we’re home you can cause a ruckus, but this time be quiet.” He whispered, “And don’t that just make our naughty little secret so much raunchier, knowin’ you gotta be still when your whole body is buckin’ for release?”
Another gasp escaped Libby’s sweet mouth as her orgasm exploded. Quinn felt it everywhere, a rhythmic pulling around his fingers, a steady throbbing where her clit pressed into his hand, even the skin on her back pulsed the same cadence. He stared greedily as her climax inundated her.
On a final sigh, Libby slumped to the table.
Quinn removed his hand from between her thighs and loomed over her. “Look at me.”
She blinked at him.
“I love the way you taste.” He placed his fingers inside his mouth and sucked noisily. Then he traced her lips with his wet fingers. “Taste yourself.”
Heat flashed in Libby’s eyes. Keeping their gazes locked, she parted her lips, sucking his fingers to the knuckles. Quinn growled at feeling her hot little tongue swirling around the rough skin. He withdrew his fingers, flipped her over, and took her mouth savagely.
The kiss was out of control from the start. After several blissful minutes, Quinn managed to find his sanity before they fucked right there in AJ’s massage studio. He slipped his lips free from hers and placed them against her ear. “Get dressed.”
“We’re done here, Libby. Get dressed. Fast.” He drew in a deep breath. “Please.”
In such close proximity, he felt—rather than saw—her nod. Unable to control his need for her or his raging hard-on, he presented his back to her, trying like hell to ignore the sexy sounds of her uneven breathing and the rustle of her clothing.
Libby cleared her throat. “I’m ready.”
He clasped her hand and ushered her outside without another word.
The wind whistled, blowing leaves and debris around their feet. Although Libby’s mind was hazed with pleasure, she hated that Quinn was dragging her off like a disobedient child.
She dug her bootheels into the sidewalk and jerked them to a stop.
Quinn whirled around.
Everything feminine inside her cheered at his scorching look. His gorgeous blue eyes were nearly black, not from rage, but from passion, which increased her determination to set things straight before they took another step—literally or figuratively.
Testily, he said, “What?”
“Where are we going?”
“Why did you haul me out of there so damn fast?”
Yippee, he was back to one-word answers. “Were you embarrassed about what just happened?”
“No. Were you?”
“No. It was hot as hell.” Libby’s gaze dropped to the front of Quinn’s sweats. Bingo. Damn impressive tent. She smirked. “Are we leaving because you have a hard-on?”
“Jesus, Libby, will you get in the goddamn truck so we can talk about this at home?”
Quinn stared at her as if she’d morphed into a three-eyed, green-tentacled alien life form.
“So it’s okay for you to get me off in public, but I can’t return the favor?”
Libby grabbed him by the shirtsleeve and towed him around the corner of the building. Luckily, this side of the two-story brick structure faced an empty lot. She pressed her back against the sandstone bricks and tugged him. Well, she tried to tug him, but the solidly built man wouldn’t budge.
“What are you doin’?”
“Seducing you. Fair’s fair, Quinn. I wanna get you off. Right here, right now.”
“Good Lord, woman, what’s gotten into you?”
“You’ve gotten into me, remember whose fingers were in who?” Libby wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hoist me against this wall and rub your cock on me until you come.”
She could picture her husband mentally compiling a list of pros and cons. “We’re outside. Anyone could see us.”
“What? Can you blame me for wanting more of the wild man I met behind the curtain?” Libby rubbed her lips over the baby-smooth line of his jaw and he angled his head, allowing her better access to all the tasty spots. “You’ve held back with me, Quinn. Sometimes you’ve shown me a glimpse of that beast inside you. If we’re really going to try and make this work, no more secrets between us. No more politeness. No more PC behavior. No more hiding behind a mask.”
He squinted at her. “If I lower my mask, you’d better be prepared to lower yours too.”
“What do you mean?”
“That means I wanna see some of the shine worn off the perfect rancher’s wife halo you wear like a tiara. Hell, I’d love to knock that crown right off your pretty, proper little head.”
There was the opening she’d longed for. Masks off, gloves off, the real down and dirty side to each of them, squaring off with no rules. She said, “Deal.”
Quinn’s eyes took on a predatory look. “Make doubly sure you mean what you’re sayin’, ’cause once I let that cat outta the bag, it ain’t ever goin’ back in. I’ve got some dark edges I’ve never explored, Libby.
Be one-hundred-percent sure you can handle ’em.”
For a split second, Libby’s determination wavered, seeing the steely glint of danger in her husband’s eyes. But she’d loved him long enough to know he wouldn’t physically hurt her. In fact, he’d probably hidden those rough edges to protect her. Silly man.
Meeting his gaze dead on, she gave him an unequivocal, “Yes, I’m sure. Now show me, dammit.”
His answering snarl was decidedly feral. Quinn clamped his mouth to hers as he clapped his hands on her ass and boosted her against the building.
Libby circled her legs around his hips as he lined his cock to the top of her cleft, rocking his pelvis, so the length, from root to tip, rubbed perfectly on her pubic bone. He groaned in her mouth and kissed her harder.
Yes. This was what she’d wanted. His uninhibited response. A chance to crack the gentlemanly cowboy mantle that weighted him down like a yoke.
His every grinding stroke hit her clitoris. Her sex swelled and wept and gloried in the friction.