Red Red Wine (Tastes of Seduction) (8 page)

Her orgasm built again, every thrust of his tongue driving her closer to the peak, every brush of his finger making her lightheaded with pleasure. Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks, and breathing became almost impossible.

Tori knew she was close, but when Andrew drew his finger, in a feather-light touch, down between the cheeks of her butt and over her anus, she lost all control.

She came on a loud sob, the release explosive.

Perhaps it wasn’t just sexual tension relieved by the climax. Perhaps it was all that emotion sitting in her chest too. It had burst alongside the rest of her, making the orgasm that much more intense, that much more explosive. It seemed to go on and on and on, shaking her all the way through to her bones.

Violent tingles erupted in her groin, spreading through her body. The tremors that had overwhelmed her minutes ago now turned to full-blown shudders.

Andrew fucked her through it, his tongue never stopping, his fingers still stroking her clit and ass. He fucked her until she collapsed with breathless exhaustion, her head spinning, her cheeks soaked by her tears.

Yet even as she lay there, dizzy in the aftermath of her rapture, her body still throbbed, still hummed with need. Yes, he’d given her a mind-blowing orgasm, but…but it wasn’t enough. She needed…wanted more.

She twisted her hips frantically, ground her ass against the floor and moaned.

Andrew laughed, a low, husky sound, and his mouth was back on her clit, suckling, licking, kissing. As his mouth seduced, his hand caressed, his finger once again trailing through her damp folds.

Yes, God, yes. That was what she needed. His fingers. Not just on her. In her.

She rolled her hips, pushed against his hand, and finally, finally, he rewarded her, slipping a finger inside her. Deep, deep, deep inside.

A groan of pleasure rang from her chest, and he slipped another finger in.

As his tongue licked, his fingers fucked, slipping in and out in beguiling rhythm. Slow, slow, slow, then faster, faster still, and even faster.

Her heart thumped.

“Andrew.” His name became a litany in her mind and in her ears as she sang it, over and over.

Sensation built again, her pussy full. So gloriously, wonderfully full of him, of his fingers. Yet the fullness was not enough to ward off the cold emptiness inside her.

Minutes ago he’d teased her, dragged his thumb over her ass. She wanted more of that. Needed more of that.

She arched her back, lifted her hips, spread her thighs wider, and a strangled sound escaped her throat. She rocked wildly against his touch.

And felt the soft stroke of a finger move from her drenched pussy down between her ass cheeks.

Tori whipped her head from side to side.

He found her anus, rubbed it softly, and she let out a soft wail.

He breached the tight muscle, dipping his finger inside.

Pain tore through her, a momentary blip on her pleasure, and she gasped in a breath.

He pushed all the way inside.

That was what she needed.

The cold receded, replaced with a warmth she didn’t try to understand. Tori rocked on his fingers, let him fill her completely as he licked at her clit.

For endless seconds, minutes, hours, maybe even days, she just felt.

For the first time that night, the emptiness that had plagued her faded to insignificance. And though Tori wished she could spend forever like this, full and warm and content, the sheer excitement of Andrew’s seduction could not be ignored. Neither could the overwhelming pleasure provided by his mouth and hands.

The pleasure and excitement sent her into a mind-spinning orgasm, one that went on forever, keeping her suspended in a world where nothing but sensation and bliss existed. She could quite happily have lost herself there for a lifetime.

When it did end, finally, and when the last of the mind-blowing tingles subsided, there was none of the hollowness she’d experienced before.

Tori felt nothing but incredibly sated.

Andrew’s heart slammed against his ribs. It was all he could hear, the roar of blood in his ears and the sound of his name on Tori’s lips, a seductive litany, a sinful song.

He sat back on his knees, watching as Tori came down from her high, as she lay on the concrete floor, his hoodie the only barrier against its stony chill. Her breath heaved from her chest and her song ended as she quivered through what seemed to be tiny little aftershocks.

Andrew himself took great, shuddery breaths, trying to get his pulse under control. His doc had warned him about his blood pressure. He guessed that right about now, it ranged somewhere in the “dangerous” to “stroke looming” level.

Blood pulsed through his arteries, every last drop headed to his dick. He was as hard as a fucking iron rod and his balls must surely be turning blue.

The need to slide inside her hot pussy was so powerful, he could almost feel her wet, constrictive heat surrounding him, sucking him in.

Andrew bit his arm. Just shoved the fucker in his mouth and bit down, hard. Anything to stop the pain shooting through his shaft. Every instinct told him to do it, to tug off his jeans and fuck her. Let free his pounding erection so he could bury it in her depths.

Common sense reminded him he carried no protection. Not even one little condom. There was a crate-load back in Blake’s room, but Andrew hadn’t thought to slip one in his pocket before heading out on his midnight walk.

For some reason, the idea of finding himself in the gazebo at midnight, with his ideal woman almost naked in his arms, just hadn’t occurred to him. Sure, if he’d been the creative type, he might have fantasized about it, but he’d never have believed it would happen.

Lack of condom aside, fucking Victoria would be a bad idea. The woman might have needed the release he’d so happily given, but he doubted she was ready for more.

Not after what she’d been through this evening, and not while carrying the hurt her fiancé had inflicted.

Andrew was no martyr. He believed in give and take. Believed one good turn deserved another. But this, here, wasn’t about a good turn. Not for him anyway. This was about a woman in need, and he was lucky enough to have been the one to comfort her.

He gritted his teeth and clenched his muscles against the pain that bore down on him, ripping at his testicles. He’d probably do himself permanent damage not carrying through on his lust, but he didn’t have a choice. Victoria needed his emotional support a whole lot more than she needed his dick.

Later, in the privacy of his room, he’d do whatever was necessary to relieve the ache. Hell, hadn’t he been doing it for months anyway? The difference was, tonight he’d have enough fuel to make himself come several times over. Memories of bringing Victoria to orgasm twice would fuel his masturbation fantasies for years to come.

With unsteady hands, he reached backwards and patted the ground behind him until he found her shorts.

Gently and slowly so as not to jar her, he threaded first one leg and then the other through the scrap of denim and pulled it up and over her waist. Yep, he should have pulled her panties on first, but those he’d slipped into his back pocket.

He had no intention of returning them. Ever.

With sheer determination, he closed the zip over her almost hairless pussy.

The thin strip of hair on her mound had made him see stars, and covering it now made him want to cry. Just sit on the floor and throw a tantrum, like he had as a kid. But one set of tears a night was enough, and since Victoria had sobbed her way through both orgasms, Andrew figured this wasn’t his night to cry.

He found her singlet too and tugged it over her head and arms, covering her spectacular breasts as he did. The lacy bra disappeared from sight, forcing him to bite back a moan of objection.

He slipped her arms into his hoodie. Then he crouched beside her, picked the boneless woman up in his arms and settled her down in his lap. He leaned back, against the beam and seat she’d used to support herself earlier, and held her close.

She snuggled into him, resting her head on his chest and her hand on his shoulder. Her legs lay on his thigh, her feet hanging over.

God, she felt good, as though she’d been made to lie in his arms.

For long moments, that was all he did. Just held her. And she lay against him, relaxed. The only indication she gave that anything was wrong was the steady stream of tears that poured down her cheeks, wetting his chest.

He rocked her wordlessly, giving her the time she needed to cry.

They were silent tears. Before, when he’d licked her pussy, her tears had been anything but silent. Great sobs had racked her body and echoed across the gazebo. The same the second time around. She may have been aroused, but she’d also been overcome by sadness.

Her trust in him had filled Andrew with a certain sense of wonder. Not only had she felt secure enough to submit to her blatantly sexual needs, but she’d also given in to raw emotion in front of him. Let him see the most private parts of herself—physically and psychologically.

Andrew recognized a quick, meaningless fuck when he saw it, but he sensed this was way more than that. The emotion that still made her muscles quiver told him they’d shared something very real. Victoria lay in his arms, crying on his chest. She hadn’t gotten up and walked away, triumphant in her conquest. She was still with him.

Even if it wasn’t anything more, and she simply lay with him because she was too exhausted to leave, Andrew was okay with that. He didn’t believe it to be the truth, but he’d take what he could get, whatever Victoria offered of herself.

He raked his fingers through her hair, slowly, hypnotically, losing himself to the silkiness of the long strands. The ache in his dick subsided enough that he thought he might be able to talk without squeaking. “Victoria?” Her tears had stopped, and now she simply lay against him, still.

She laughed softly into his neck. “Don’t you think you know me well enough by now to call me Tori?”

Damned if his chest didn’t swell at the idea. “Tori?”

“Yeah?”

“You doing okay?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “I think so.”

“Want to talk about it? About him?”

“Nope. He’s the last thing I want to talk about.”

“How about what just happened between us?”

“We could talk about it.” She turned her head and pressed her lips against his shoulder. “But I’d prefer to just lie here and relive it over and over.” A shiver passed through her.

He grinned into her hair. “It was that good?”

She nipped his shoulder, then kissed it. “It was that good.”

And again they lapsed into silence. A comfortable silence that made something in Andrew’s chest ache.

Long moments passed.

“Andrew?”

It was his turn to chuckle. “Don’t you think you know me well enough by now to call me Ando?”

Her laugh was husky, and it made his dick stir all over again. “Ando?”

“Yeah, Tori?”

“Tell me about you.”

“What about me?”

“Anything. Everything. Just talk. You know an awful lot about me, and I know almost nothing about you. Tell me why you’re here, who you’re with.”

He could do that. “I’m here because my business partner locked me out of the office, shoved a set of keys in my hand and insisted I get the hell out of Sydney for the weekend.”

Her shoulders tensed. “He what? Doesn’t he like you?”

“Oh, we get along just fine. We’re friends and business partners. He was just…looking out for my best interests, I guess.”

“By locking you out of your own office?”

“By insisting I take a break. Get away from real life for a few days. The hotel and vineyard belong to him. The keys fit the door to his private suite here.”

“You’re using it for the weekend?”

“I am.”

She tangled her fingers in the hair on his chest and scraped her nails over his nipple.

Andrew’s blood pressure jumped straight up to “stroke looming”.

Oblivious to his imminent destruction, she asked, “Did you need to escape from real life?”

He thought about his answer. “For a while, yeah.”

“I can understand that. The need to escape. Today I didn’t. Tonight? Different story.”

“You can escape into my arms anytime, sweetheart.”

She looked up at him. “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather run to.” The eye-to-eye contact was palpable, and once again Andrew felt something shift in his chest. “But…we’re not talking about me, remember?”

“I remember.” Andrew continued stroking her hair until she lay her head back on his chest.

“What are you escaping from?”

Andrew sighed. “Family. My parents.”

“You don’t get along with them?”

“I do. We’re close. Always have been. But my folks are getting on in age, and they’re not well, either of them. The pressure…it takes its toll, you know?”

“Tell me about them. Your mum and dad.”