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She sinks down onto my cock, taking all of me into her body, and moans deeply.
Bod an Donais, she's amazing. I grasp her hips, my fingers digging in, but she doesn't seem to mind. Then she lays her hands on my chest, bracing herself, and begins to ride me with languid strokes while she gazes down at our joined bodies, seeming transfixed by the sight of her flesh sliding along mine. My attention is riveted to the same spot, where I can see her cream glistening on the condom.
I squeeze words out between my teeth. "You're so wet."
"You told me that already too." She throws her head back, as lost to the bliss of our bodies merging as I am.
My hips buck at the same instant she slams down, and a choked shout bursts out of me. "Can't be original when yer driving me mad." I clutch her hips and buck into her again. "Ah! Faster, lass, faster."
She pushes up off my cock until only the head is inside her and looks at me with the most beautiful look of raw lust I've ever seen. I dart my gaze over her entire body, but I can't admire her sexiness right now, not with the painful pleasure that's mounting inside me. Swaying her hips, she cups her swollen breasts with her palms and pinches the nipples.
My breaths shorten into huffs, and sweat dribbles down my temples. When I speak, my voice is rough and strained. "Erica, have mercy on me."
"Never."
Chapter Sixteen
Erica impales herself on my cock, and we both cry out at the same instant. Our bodies slap together in a frantic rhythm, punctuated by my grunts and her hoarse cries. Her hair flaps around her face and fans over her cheeks while her eyes shut and her mouth falls open. She grinds her body into me, driving myslatdeeper than ever.
I let out an explosive growl, pinning her hips to mine, and punch into her with so much force that half my body lifts off the bed. We crash back down onto the mattress while still joined, the concussion plunging her onto my cock at the instant I come. The intensity of my climax barrels down my spine, the scorching power of it wringing every last drop from my cock as my shouts echo through the house. Then I find her clit and rub it, rolling my thumb around that rigid bud while I curl my fingers over the silky hairs between her thighs.
Erica rides me faster and harder, like she's so desperate to come that she can't stand to wait one more second for that release. I keep rubbing her with my thumb while I anchor her to me with both hands. Her inner muscles clench around me in pulsating waves, and she lets out primal, unbridled cries. By the time the final wave subsides, She's panting and dazed, her cheeks and chest speckled with pink. She slumps onto my chest.
Erica has never looked bonnier than she does right now.
Still buried inside her, I glide my hands down her back and up again to comb my fingers through her hair.
The lass whispers against my chest, "Thank you for dinner—and the virtual tour of Scotland."
"You're welcome." Still combing my fingers through her hair, I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss each knuckle. "I'd be honored to take you to dinner tomorrow night."
"Mmm."
"A proper dinner." I lace her hair between my fingers. "Nothing like the club the other night."
She smiles up at me. "I would love to have dinner with you."
"I'll be honored to escort you."
"Honored? You're being sarcastic, right?"
"Of course not. You are an elegant, captivating woman." I slap her erse, making her yelp. "You're also fantastic in bed. I lucked out when I picked you for my holiday fling. And you lucked out too, since you admit I give you the best orgasms of your life." I try to restrain my grin—well, I don't trythathard—but it breaks through anyway, partly suppressed. "I suppose you ought to thank me after all."
She smacks my chest lightly. "Arrogant Scot."
"Cheeky American."
We both laugh.
Then I ease her off me so I can retrieve a round, black box and offer it to Erica. "Highland chocolates from Iain Burnett. These caramels are as rich and silky as you."
She peels the box open and nearly drops it when she sees the chocolate hearts nestled inside. "Uh, thanks. I love caramel."
"You don't look pleased."
Lifting her gaze to mine, she smiles, though it seems a bit forced. "I am pleased. These look yummy."
What about sweets makes her unhappy? I thought women loved heart-shaped things and all that romantic bollocks.
