He didn’t tease her for long. His fingertip circled lightly on the bump of her clit. The friction of her panties on the tight knot of nerves only added to the pleasure, but hell, she was already so turned on it was a wonder she didn’t come right then and there.
His hands moved all over her, but she didn’t worry about falling because no matter what he was doing, he never let go. Georgie put her arms around his neck, bringing his mouth back to hers as his hands both moved under her skirt to lift her up enough to slid her panties down, and she was already smiling when he broke off with an exclamation.
“Bloody hell,” Julian said, pulling back to look at her. “You’re a clever girl, aren’t you?”
Panties worn over the garter belt, not under. That way he could take them all the way off without getting caught on the garters or the stockings. Julian pushed down the scrap of fabric that had aspired to be underpants and bent to kissing her again. The countertop was cool beneath her buttocks, but compared to the heat in the rest of her body the chill was welcome. He pulled her closer, fingers working the buttons of her blouse and opening it. He slid his hands up to her breasts again, pinching her nipples through the lace of her bra, then deftly undoing the front hook and letting the material fall away.
“Look at you,” he murmured. “Gorgeous.”
She arched her back a little, pushing her breasts upward, and Julian took the invitation without pause. His mouth closed over one nipple, suckling, and her breath hissed out. His fingers stroked the curls between her legs, before finding her clit again. He pinched it lightly between his finger and thumb, and Georgie jumped a little.
“Oh, fuck,” she mumbled, startling herself. “That’s…tremblendous…”
“Yeah?” Julian left her nipple to put his mouth close to her ear. “God, you smell good. What are you wearing?”
“Vanilla. And me.” She parted her thighs further as his finger dipped down to slide between her folds. When he brought it up again, slickness coated her clit and her fingernails dug into his shoulder so hard he hissed.
“Fucking hell. Fuck, that’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” He nuzzled beneath her ear, breathing deep. “You’re driving me fucking insane.”
He was driving her pretty wild, too, with the slow stroke-stroke on her clit. Her breath caught in her throat when he probed lower, nudging against her entrance. God, she wanted him inside her all the way, but all he did was press the tip of his finger inside her pussy while he rubbed her clit with his thumb.
Thank God she’d taken a shower in her room because there was no way they were going to last long enough to use his. “Put your mouth on me, Julian.”
Georgie had never said that before. Not to anyone. But here and now she didn’t care. All she could think about was him tasting her, of how his tongue would feel caressing her clit, how much she wanted to feel his hair tickling the insides of her thighs.
She put a hand on each side of her and gripped the counter. In one smooth series of motions, Julian ran his tongue down her throat and over her breasts, down her ribs and her belly while he pushed her skirt all the way up to her waist. Georgie leaned back, her head pressing the mirror behind her. She spread her legs, waiting, and Julian didn’t disappoint.
He kissed her between the legs with as much finesse as he’d wooed her mouth. When his tongue flicked out to flutter on her clit, she lifted her hips with a small cry. Julian’s hands grabbed her hips and held her against his mouth as he licked and stroked her pussy with his tongue.
“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart,” she heard him say. “Make that noise again for me.”
As if she could help it. Primed by years of mental masturbation, Georgie couldn’t have stayed quiet if she’d had duct tape across her mouth. And she didn’t want to. Her own cries of pleasure, the noises he was pulling from her with every lick, turned her on as much as anything else.
Julian’s hand traveled over her thigh, down the smoothness of her stocking-clad calf. “I fucking love this,” he muttered. “A woman in stockings. I want to fuck you with these still on, Georgiana.”
He kissed her thigh, nibbling, and slid his tongue along the seam at the back of her stocking. The touch tickled the back of her knee, and he was up again, face buried between her legs, tongue dancing on her clit.
She put a hand on his head. Her hips rocked. Her ass slid a bit on the smooth marble counter and her fingers gripped the edge hard enough to hurt, but she barely noticed the ache. All she could think of was Julian’s tongue against her pussy, licking.
He pushed a finger inside her, stroking her inside as well as out, and she tensed. She was going to come. His tongue slowed, and she groaned. He kissed her clit, then blew a hot puff of breath against it. His fingers slid in and out slowly. He blew another gust of air.
Every muscle tensed. Georgie looked down, watching him. Julian licked her once more and then looked up at her as she tumbled over the edge into orgasm.
It was endless and yet only a moment, an explosion of pleasure that left her gasping his name. She wanted to remember this moment, the details, but her mind refused to take a snapshot. The edges blurred too much. The echo of his name against the bathroom’s tiled walls, the sound of his murmured words of encouragement, the flutter of his dark lashes as he looked up at her, watching her come. The curve of his smile as she shuddered from the force of the climax he’d just given her. They all seemed as clear as diamonds, but in the next moment had already begun to fade and, as she caught her breath, Georgie tried to little avail to gather the strands that would make up the tapestry of this memory.
Julian got to his feet and kissed her, lingering, before he pulled away to look into her eyes. “You look pensive.”
“Try sated.” Georgie sighed, smiled and linked her hands behind his neck.
Julian smiled, too. “I’ve been called a cream puff before. Good thing to see I can make you moan as much as the one you ate downstairs.”
This glimpse of self-deprecating humor seemed so at odds with his shameless playboy image that Georgie kissed him again to cover her surprise. “Much better than a cream puff. Really.”
Julian laughed. “I thought maybe I was going to be one-upped by a pastry.”
He nuzzled her hair and ran his hands up and down her back beneath her open blouse. His fingers played notes on her spine much the way he’d play a keyboard. In spite of the mind-blowing climax she’d just had, a tingle of arousal threaded through her. Thank God for the ability for multiple orgasms.
She pushed him gently, hopped down from the counter and slipped her arms out of her blouse and bra. She tossed them out the bathroom door onto the bedroom floor, then unhooked her skirt and stepped out of it to add it to the pile. She turned to him, her hands on her hips, resting her weight on one leg to emphasize her curves.
“I believe you mentioned something about fucking me still wearing this?” She ran a finger along the garter belt’s lacy edge.
Julian was already undoing the buttons of his shirt. “I remember something like that, yeah.”
Georgie smiled, moving back toward the bedroom, crooking her finger. “Well, come on, then.”
Funny how easy being sexy became with an appreciative audience. And Julian was definitely appreciative. He followed her, adding his shirt to the pile on the floor and working open his trousers. He pushed them over his lean hips, the boxer briefs he wore beneath nudging downward to reveal the flat plane of his belly.
He wasn’t tall and broad like Seth or Brad, but the clothes had made him look thinner than he was. Revealed, his naked chest was muscled, not scrawny. A light scattering of chest hair the color of a lion’s mane surrounded his nipples and threaded a line down his belly to meet a thatch of pubic hair only slightly darker.
His cock pushed at the front of his briefs, but he stopped with his fingers hooked into the elastic edge while he kicked off the trousers and used one foot to push off a sock, then switched to do the other.
She’d seen photos of him in b
athing suits and a series done in underwear much like the ones he wore now, back when he’d done a brief moonlighting stint as a model for Ragged Tiger Fashions. Though years had passed, not much of Julian’s body seemed to have changed. She knew already the curving scar on his abdomen, left from a motorbike accident that happened during the filming of one of Blue Silver’s early videos. She knew the way his hip bones jutted when he twisted. But she had never, not even in any illicit paparazzi photos, seen his cock.
She knew the rumors. There were entire message boards dedicated to discussing the size and girth of Julian Manchester’s python. She’d never really paid much attention to them, figuring them for exaggeration, wishful thinking or just plain invasion of privacy. Now, faced with the man himself, she wasn’t sure whether or not to be excited or afraid.
He took a step toward her, his fingers still hooked in the elastic waistband. “Now might be the best time to mention this, love. The nightstand drawer is fully stocked.”
If it hadn’t been, Georgie’s clutch purse would have provided the necessary equipment. There was no way she was going to bed with anyone without using a condom, much less a man renowned for his sexual prowess and excess. Still, it made her feel better to know that he might be promiscuous, but he wasn’t irresponsible.
“Good to know.” She backed up and felt the hotel bedspread’s softness on the backs of her legs. She turned, tugged it down and sat on the edge.
Julian still hadn’t taken off his boxers.
“Come on, then, sweetheart,” she said, putting on a pretty decent imitation of him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
His eyebrow rose at her use of his lingo, but he didn’t take his clothes off. Something occurred to her, something ridiculous, considering she was, literally, bare-assed naked. She knew Julian’s body, knew much about him, the name of his first pet, his child…hell, she knew his address in London. But he didn’t know her at all. She’d just gotten naked with a man she’d “known” for years, but to him, she was a stranger. And getting naked in front of an utter stranger could be daunting.
“Let me see you, Julian,” Georgie said, voice husky.
He pushed his briefs down over his hips and stepped out of them. She hissed in a breath, her tongue sliding along her lips in a reflex. His prick was as lovely as the rest of him. And yes, it was long, and it was thick, but completely perfect and proportioned.
Julian cleared his throat, and she realized she was staring.
“I was afraid it was going to split me in half,” she said with a laugh.
He looked startled. “Were you?”
He looked down, taking it in hand and stroking lightly. “And now you’re reassured? Should I be embarrassed?”
She laughed again, and he gave her an admiring glance. “Fuck, you have a sexy laugh.”
She’d never thought of it as particularly sexy, but then she’d never imagined herself as anything she’d become tonight. “I like to laugh.”
“Me too.” He stepped closer, hand still on his cock.
Georgie watched, fascinated, as his length vanished and reappeared into the cave made by his curled fingers. She licked her lips again.
“Come here,” she said, and he did at once. Again the sense of power filled her, erotic and heady. The sense of being in control, of doing, not simply being done to. She reached for him. Her fingers closed around his length. She felt his skin, thin and hot. She stroked, moving it, and his pulse rushed against her palm.
Julian made a low noise in the back of his throat when she stroked him. She looked up to see him bite his lip, his eyes on her hand. He looked at her. He smiled. She smiled, too, connecting with him in a way that surprised her as much as the cream puff comment had. It proved she didn’t really know him after all, no matter how much she knew about him.
She felt suddenly tender toward him, a bit guilty at using him to prove a point in her own life. She stroked him again, from the crown of his prick to the base. She slipped her other hand beneath to cup the weight of his balls, her thumb stroking the seam in his flesh. He shivered.
“Kiss me,” Georgie commanded, and Julian did that, too.
He moved over her, pushing her back gently onto the crisp sheets. He put a hand on either side of her head and covered her body with his. His cock pressed between them, a line of heat against her belly. His mouth urged hers open and his tongue moved inside.
A flash of memory returned. The feeling of his fingers inside her and his tongue on her clit. Her pussy fluttered, and sighed in anticipation of how good his cock would feel inside her.
She pushed him gently until he rolled onto his side, and she followed him. She slid her leg between his, nudging her thigh upward to press his balls, while she reached between them to stroke his erection. Their mouths met, and Julian left her lips to find her throat again. Bliss, pure bliss as his teeth nipped and nibbled.
Georgie pushed him all the way over onto his back and straddled his thighs. She ran her hands up his stomach and ribs to circle his nipples with her fingertips. They tightened under her touch and he drew in a breath. She bent forward to lick one, and his cock, trapped against her belly, leaped.
“You like that?” she asked, taking another lick. He tasted a little spicy.
“Yeah…” His answer trailed away into a groan as she used her teeth on his chest.
She continued kissing his chest and rubbing her belly on him. Julian’s hips lifted, pushing himself against her in response to what she was doing. She was doing this to him, she thought in wonder. Her caresses, her kisses, were making him moan softly and thrust.
She loved it.
She slid up his body to bite his earlobe. “Tell me you want to fuck me.”
“Oh, I do,” Julian murmured, his hands going around her back to pull her closer.
“Tell me.” She licked the spot she’d just bitten, and he rewarded her with a hiss of breath. His cock throbbed against her.
“I want to fuck you, Georgiana.” Julian’s hands moved down to cup her bare ass. “I want to fuck you so much it hurts.”
She believed him because her pussy was telling her the same thing. “I want you inside me.”
He groaned. “I want to be inside you, all the way. You’re so fucking hot and wet. Your cunt is so tight…”
His words, the bluntness of them, lodged her breath in her throat. Her nipples were hard as steel, her pussy aching, her clit so swollen with desire every shift of her thighs caused delicious tremors to shudder through her.
She’d never been a fan of dirty talk, but this didn’t sound dirty. It sounded…necessary. It sounded basic, truthful, the bare bones of need expressed with language as blunt as the desire itself.
“I want you to fuck me, Julian,” she whispered in his ear, a sort of half-sobbing cry.
It was all she’d thought about for months. She couldn’t wait another second. Everything had become raw need for his hands and mouth on her, for his rod inside her, for the mindless oblivion of orgasm.
“I need you to fuck me,” she told him, and his hands ceased their restless motion on her back momentarily. She pulled away to look into his eyes, not caring at the moment if the persona had slipped a little, if he saw beneath the façade. “I need you.”
If he’d said anything, even if he’d agreed, the mood would have shattered. What he did instead was kiss her, hard, so fiercely their teeth clashed and she tasted the metallic tang of blood.
Somehow they rolled and shifted, crawling in tandem, turning their bodies lengthwise on the bed, while she reached to fumble in the nightstand. She grabbed a foil packet and tore it open as he kissed her. Panting, she sat back, stroked a hand downward and unrolled the condom over his cock. She’d done it so many times in Esther’s apartment it took only a second and then she shifted forward.
He lifted her. She moved. He put a hand to the head of his cock and guided it inside her as she lowered herself.
They groaned in unison, nearly identical noises of satisfaction, when his coc
k hit her cervix. She took him in all the way, her knees clamped tight at the sides of his hips. Her garters bunched, but the stockings stayed in place, rubbing on the hairs of his legs in a way that made Georgie quake from the added sensation.
Julian’s hands clutched the backs of her thighs, just above the stocking tops. His fingers were hot, her skin hotter, and they curved around beneath her buttocks to tickle her.
She sat up straight, one hand on his chest, the other going unerringly to her clit. He rocked her, his cock pushing inside her, then out, while she rubbed herself in tandem.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he said, sounding a little dazed. “You touching yourself.”
She looked down at him. Sweat had darkened his hair, hanging over one eye, and she reached to push it off his forehead. She relished the silkiness of it against her palm, then let her hand cup his cheek. He turned his face to kiss her palm, then bit it gently.
There didn’t seem to be a place any longer for words. No “Shift here,” or “A little to the left.” He hit every spot she needed him to as he thrust. They rocked together. Her clit grew under her fingertip and Georgie had to fight to remember to breathe.
She leaned forward, her hand gripping his shoulder for support. Julian kissed her, but their mating distracted them and they let their mouths brush each other, breathing in what the other breathed out as they focused on his penis moving inside her.
He could move harder this way, thrust deeper, and he did. She cried out, no longer needing the pressure of her hand on her clit, because she rubbed against his belly with every thrust. Unlike her first orgasm, which had rolled over her like a runaway train, this climax ebbed and flowed, dancing out of reach in a way that would have been frustrating if it hadn’t been so damned tantalizing.
She moaned his name, and he groaned and thrust harder. Sex had never been like this for her, so effortless. Everything he did worked toward getting her off. His mouth found her throat again, his teeth scraping, and her cunt clenched around him. He gave a cry, sounding startled, and thrust so hard he moved her entire body.