When he popped her nipple out of his mouth, he took her lips in a scorching kiss that only heated her desire to flaming levels.
He quickly removed his shirt, then toed off his tennis shoes and shrugged out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him standing in her kitchen oh so erect and incredibly gorgeous.
He kneeled on the floor to pull her sweats down and followed through with her underwear. But instead of standing, he leaned in and swiped his tongue across her sex.
She reached for the counter for support as he buried his tongue inside of her.
“Flynn.” His name fell as a needy, desperate whisper from her mouth. And when he moved from her pussy to her clit, using his tongue to tease and torture her until her legs were shaking, she leaned both elbows against the counter and spread her legs, giving him better access.
His reply to that was to hum against her, the sound and sensation flooding her senses until she couldn’t stand it any longer. She came with a rush and cry, shoving her sex against his face, demanding her orgasm from him.
And oh, did he ever give it to her. He wrapped his arm around her buttocks and held tight to her as he buried his face against her while she came. Her climax obliterated her senses so hard she thought she might collapse onto the floor. Thankfully she had the counter and Flynn for support.
When he stood, he kissed her, this time a slow, languorous kiss that sent her from simmer to fiery hot all over again.
He turned her around and bent her over the counter, then fished into the pocket of his jeans for a condom.
She looked at him over her shoulder, looked at the condom in his hand and gave him a crooked smile. “Sure thing?”
He leaned over her and nipped at her shoulder. “Babe, you are anything but a sure thing.”
She liked the sound of that.
He put the condom on, moved in between her legs and smoothed his hand over her hip.
“You came good.”
She made a murmuring sound of approval. “Hell yes I did.”
“Do it again.” He slid into her with a slow, easy glide that made goose bumps pop onto her skin.
She grasped the counter as he moved within her with slow, measured movements.
“Tell me what feels good for you,” he said.
“This feels good. Just like this.”
He swept his hand around to fondle her breasts, to tease and pluck her nipples. The sensations took her breath away, making her push back against him.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Now, that’s what I like. Push yourself onto my cock.”
She loved hearing him talk. The sound of Flynn’s deep voice was an aphrodisiac all on its own. And when he moved inside of her and spoke to her, encouraging her with whispered, naughty words, all she wanted to do was come.
She reached between her legs to rub her clit. As she moved her hand over the bud, her pussy tightened around Flynn’s shaft.
“That’s it,” Flynn said. “Make yourself come. Make me come, too.”
He drove into her with precise movements, using his cock, his hands and his mouth to take her right to the edge. She used her own hand to soar right over.
“I’m coming,” she said, tilting her head back and rocking against his cock as she shook all over with her orgasm.
Flynn gripped her hips and thrust faster, then groaned as he drove deeply into her again and again as he came.
She was out of breath when she came down from that amazing, quivering high.
Flynn scooped his arm around her and pulled her upright, then withdrew, turned her around and cupped the side of her face with his hand.
“I can barely breathe,” she said, grinning.
“Ditto.”
He kissed her, this time a soft, gentle kiss that sent those familiar quakes dancing around in her stomach.
He took her hand and they went to the bedroom. After he disposed of the condom, they climbed into bed.
“I don’t know about you, but I didn’t sleep much last night,” she said.
He curled up behind her and kissed the side of her neck. “You don’t have anything to do today, do you?”
She yawned. “Nothing super important. Just laundry and paying bills and . . . things.”
She wasn’t sure she finished the sentence before she was asleep.
* * *
Amelia woke with a start. She looked behind her. The bed was empty. The clock on the wall in her bedroom said it was noon. She’d slept for two hours.
Okay, then. She did feel a lot better after that nap. She stretched, got up and went to the bathroom, then threw on underwear and a tank top and wandered down the hall to look for Flynn.
When she entered the kitchen, she halted mid stride.
Flynn was standing at her stove, cooking . . . something. While naked and wearing one of her aprons.
Now, that was a sight Amelia didn’t see every day. Or ever. A gorgeous, tattooed, apron-wearing naked man cooking in her kitchen.
She walked into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible as she moved in behind Flynn. She scooped her arms around him. “Did anyone ever tell you that your ass looks amazing in an apron?”
He looked over his shoulder at her and grinned. “All the time.”
She cocked a smile at him. “What are you doing?”
“Cooking.”
She rolled her eyes. “Obviously. Looks like eggs Benedict. And asparagus.”
“I already did a Caprese salad. That’s in the fridge.”
Her stomach rumbled. “Now I’m starving.”
“I figured you might be hungry. I was about to wake you up.”