Free Las Vegas Layover by Eva Siedler Page A

dark brown curls, he breathed hot and moist over the very heat of her passion. Her sweet, musky scent hit him like a gut punch, making his mouth water, but he was careful not to touch—not yet. This was a first for her, and he would make it magical if it killed him. Starting again at the ankle, he tormented his way up her other leg. But this time his fingers splayed across her belly moved low to toy within her curls. He slid one finger into her heat, groaning as her muscles clamped around him, her hips bucking into his hand.
    Need racked through his body, a tremor that shook his soul. “You’re so wet,” he growled against her thigh as he slid his finger free. She stared down at him in wide-eyed wonder as he slipped that same finger into his mouth and groaned. So good. He couldn’t wait another second. Pushing slick, silky folds of hot flesh aside, he settled his mouth on her heat.
    He meant to be gentle, despite her demands. But, fuck, she tasted like fine wine and he drank her down with a desperate thirst. Maybe it made him a sap, but he knew he could live like this for the rest of his life, feasting on her, hearing the incredibly sexy sounds she made in the back of her throat, and die a very happy man.
    Her fingers bit into his shoulders, a silent demand for more.
    Oh, yeah , he thought, his moan vibrating against her clit. If she’d needed him to slow down or, God forbid, stop, he would have. His head might’ve exploded from the strain, but he would have complied. Instead he answered her need, penetrating her entrance with his tongue. Clara strained against him, nearly wild. But nearly wasn’t good enough.
    “Just let go, sweetheart,” he murmured. He licked a hard line up her crease, making her gasp. “I’ll keep you safe.” With that promise—given without question, without limitation—Clara ground herself against his face and shattered, screaming his name.
    Her reaction, so honest and uninhibited, made him frantic to be inside her. He gritted his teeth as the tremors of her release throbbed against his lips. She flopped back onto the mattress, boneless and sated. Seconds later he was there, condom in hand, tossing her up to the head of the bed.
    She laughed, a joyful sound that ripped at his heart. In the past eighteen hours he’d heard her laugh many times—at his stupid jokes or politely to strangers. Even her joy at dinner had been rusty and contained. This sound was different. It was as though she was finally free.
    He made quick work with the condom and settled over her again in no time at all. “Now listen, big boy,” Clara said, planting her hands against his chest. Her eyes widened, her gaze fixated on his throbbing dick. He waved it at her and she laughed. “That thing is huge, and I’m not sure it’s going to fit. So take it nice and slow, okay?” No hint of fear darkened her eyes as she stared directly into his.
    Again, her trust humbled him. When he hesitated, she cupped his jaw in one of her precious hands. He smiled and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her palm.
    “Slow and easy is my specialty,” he replied, teasing her entrance with gentle prods.
    His little pixie growled at him. “Not that slow.”
    With one smooth slide so torturously slow and tight it nearly made him come right then, Sebastian buried himself to the hilt. She was tighter, hotter, better than he’d imagined, though he didn’t know how that was possible. He’d known sex with her would be great. But it wasn’t. This was mind-bending. This was home.
    Holding deathly still, he asked in a voice that clearly showed his strain, “You okay, Clara?”
    Her only answer was to cling more tightly to his shoulders.
    When he lifted his face from the crook of her neck, he found tears sparkling in her eyes. “God, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He started to withdraw, feeling like asshole of year, but she violently shook her head.
    “Don’t you dare go,” she nearly sobbed, lifting her hips to take him deeper still.