Page 56 of The Wrong Husband (The Davenports #6)
Phoenix
Each time his hand comes close to my pussy, he stops. He brushes up against my pussy lips again and again, but doesn’t touch my clit.
My body feels like it’s on fire. Every pore in my body feels like it’s open and thirsty for his touch.
For more of him. He circles my core, grazing the inside of my thighs like the wings of a butterfly.
I buck under his touch, the sounds I make muffled around his cock.
The salty taste of the precum leaking from the crown coats my tongue and slides down my throat.
The wiry hair at the base of his shaft is a rough scrape of delight against my skin. The sensations, the smells, the tastes, his powerful thighs on either side of my face… All of it adds to the feeling that I’m not in control which, strangely, adds to my arousal.
Then, the fact that I can’t touch him, except with my mouth, focuses all of my attention on where we’re joined—at my mouth and at my pussy.
The knowledge is so carnal, so sensual, so animalistic, it ratchets up the need inside me to heights I’ve never felt before.
It’s intense and feels like a thousand dragonflies are beating their wings under my skin.
My core clenches, and my thighs hurt. Every part of my body feels like it’s turned into an erogenous zone.
I continue to lick and suck on his shaft, and the weight of his dick on my tongue makes me squirm further. It simulates the weight I want to feel between my legs, which he refuses to give to me.
He replaces his finger with his tongue, skimming it around my weeping slit, coming closer and closer to my clit, but never touching it.
I make a frustrated sound at the back of my throat which vibrates around his cock.
It seems to turn him on further, for his thickness presses into the sides of my mouth.
I sense him chuckle, the heated breath rippling over my leaking pussy and turning my clit into a hard nub of desire.
I try to push my core up toward his mouth, and he holds me down with his hands on my hips.
"Not fair," I try to say but it comes out garbled.
Of course, when my teeth scrape against the underside of his cock, it draws a growl from him. He slaps my pussy in retribution, and I cry out.
"Don’t stop sucking," he growls.
Hearing that from his mouth is filthy, and it turns me on further. And when he finally, finally licks around my throbbing clit, a full body shudder spirals through me. Distracted, I allow his cock to slip to the rim of my mouth. Once more, he spanks my pussy.
Shockwaves shudder through my bloodstream. But it also spurs me on to take his cock inside my mouth and curl my tongue around the crown. I hollow my cheeks and suck and am rewarded by his thighs trembling.
The salty taste of his precum coats my palate.
When I swallow, his hold on my hips tightens.
He begins to lick around my clit and down my slit.
He releases his hold on my hip to play with the knot of flesh between my arse cheeks.
This time, he thrusts his finger through the ring of muscle, and I freeze.
It feels like we’ve crossed into uncharted territory.
Then he sucks on my pussy lips, and a burst of heat caresses the wall behind my clit. Instantly, I relax.
Enough for his finger to slip further into my back channel. A burn flares and races up my vertebrae like a fuse lit from within. And when he begins to move his finger in and out of that forbidden space, the burn morphs to pleasure.
A molten ribbon of heat crackles through my nerves and erupts at the base of my neck, making me pant and slurp on his cock with renewed vigor.
Oh God! My belly trembles. My womb contracts.
Sweat slides down my back with the force of the impending climax.
I know I’m close. And that’s without him having licked my clit.
Whatever he’s doing to that most forbidden part of me is turning me on in a most unexpected fashion. Who’d have thought that part of me is so erogenous?
He continues to lick around my clit, making sure never to touch it, but swiping his tongue to come very close.
Then, he curls his fingers inside my back channel and touches a part which sends something raw and electric lashing up my back.
A whip of sensations. A blaze licking up my spine, fierce and unrelenting.
With the last moments of clear headedness, I manage to take him down my throat, which draws a guttural sound from him.
That’s when he closes his mouth around my clit and bites down gently.
But the rough edge of his teeth on my sensitive nub fuels my desire.
It’s like a match to my bloodstream which has turned into rocket fuel.
It ignites sparks that zip through my body, catching momentum, growing bigger and bigger, growing in size, until it’s a fireball engulfing my consciousness, and shoots me into space.
I’m conscious of my pussy vibrating like it’s wired to a high voltage paddle, and of my coming so hard, I cry out around his cock. Which leads to a groan that’s so deep, it seems to emerge from his balls. And then his cock jerks, and he spills down my throat.
He seems to keep coming and coming, and when I gag, he shudders.
He licks up the evidence of my climax. When he finally pulls out of me, cum spills down my chin.
He stands, walks around the sun lounger, then covers me with his big body so he’s nose-to-nose with me.
He peers into my eyes, his blue irises iridescent and glinting like lightning trapped in a bottle, and with as much energy humming in the air around us, between us, enclosing us like we’re trapped in the eye of a storm.
I try to speak but feel too overwhelmed. My vocal cords seize up. My diaphragm spasms. It’s like my autonomic nervous system’s misfiring, flooding me with adrenaline and short-circuiting higher function. A trembling seizes me.
He instantly presses his chest into mine, and it’s like a living blanket of heat is wrapped around me.
"Wow." That feels very inadequate to express what I experienced. But given my brain is mush, it’s the best I can manage. Plus, I'm not ready to utter the words that beg to emerge: I love you.
One side of his mouth kicks up. He lowers his chin and kisses me tenderly. My lips cling to his, and when he slips his tongue inside my mouth to softly couple with mine, I sigh.
He reaches up to undo the knots around my wrists, and suddenly, I’m free. I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly. He deepens the kiss, enveloping me in his arms.
I’ll never get used to the taste of my cum on his tongue. Never. He tilts his head, and the kiss catches fire. My heart thrums in my chest, my pulse bangs against my wrists and my ankles, and my ears buzz. The buzzing sound increases in intensity until a shadow falls over us.
We pull apart and look up to find a sea plane come in for a landing.
"What the hell?" He rises to his feet, then bends and frees my legs. He snatches up his trunks. I jump up to my feet, pull on my bikini, then the sarong I placed nearby, and tie it halter-style around my neck so it covers me.
"Who’s that?" I shade my eyes so I can follow the seaplane as it comes to a stop in the strip of water between the yacht and the shore. Whoever’s navigating it must be extremely skilled to make the landing.
Even before the propellors have come to a stop, the door opens, and a figure of a man waves at us.
"I’ll be damned." Connor rubs at his temple.
Then, the figure turns and fiddles around, reaching for something I can now see is attached to the pontoon of the seaplane.
"What’s he doing?" I wonder aloud.
As if in answer, he tugs free something like a Jet Ski, which he lowers into the water.
"It’s a pod, which he’s going to use to get to us." He sighs aloud. "That’s my brother Brody, by the way."
"Why is he here?" I ask the obvious question as he jets over. In seconds, he’s reached us and anchored his nifty gizmo to the side of the boat. Then, he grabs hold of the ladder set into the side of the craft and pulls himself aboard.
He walks toward me, arms outstretched. "Congratulations."
Before I can take his hand, possessive Connor makes a warning noise at the back of his throat. Then, he steps in front of me. "She’s my wife."
Brody seems taken aback. "I’m aware," he drawls.
"Connor," I hiss, embarrassed by his show of possessiveness. I step around him.
"Mrs. Connor Davenport." Brody inclines his head. "You two sure took all of us by surprise. Not that I blame you for eloping. It’s the best way to avoid the circus that is a Davenport wedding."
"What are you doing here?" Connor interjects, sounding pissed.
Brody’s expression grows even more serious. "Gramps asked me to come to you."
"I know you prefer to keep your truce with the old man, but seriously. Tracking us down on our honeymoon is going a bit too far, don’t you think?” Connor scoffs.
Brody’s features lose all humor. His expression grows serious. "The old man isn’t well."
"He isn’t?" Connor scowls.
"Is Arthur okay?" I ask at the same time. Sure, he seemed fine the last time I saw him, but I also know that Connor’s grandfather is nearly eighty-three. The kind of age where even small health issues need to be taken seriously.
"He suffered from a bout of food poisoning. He’s stable, but insistent that the entire family get together."
Connor firms his lips. "You sure he isn’t faking, just so he has an excuse to intrude on everyone’s lives and be the center of attention?"
"Connor." I turn on him shocked. "How could you say that?"
"Because, sadly, Arthur isn’t above that." Connor rubs the back of his neck.
"I was the one who called the ambulance. I can vouch it was real.” Brody widens his stance. "I thought you’d want to know.”
Connor blows out a breath. "You should have called."
"I did; neither of you answered your phones. I figured this was as good a time as any to give this little baby a ride." He nods in the direction of the seaplane.
"You came. You spoke to us. You can tell the old man we couldn’t make it," Connor drawls.
Brody frowns. “You sure about this?”
"As you said, Arthur is fine, so there’s no real reason for us to go, is there?"
I fold my arms across our chest. "We should go."
Connor searches my features. "I don’t want to cut our honeymoon short."
"We can have another honeymoon." I touch his arm. "But this is your grandfather, and he’s unwell and asking for you. We shouldn’t ignore him.”
He searches my face. "Are you sure?"