Yes. No more clothing between them.
She tore her mouth free. “You can take it—”
“I will,” he told her.
His mouth open and hot against her throat, he didn’t strip off her dress. Instead, he jerked down her panties and unerringly stroked her clit. Again. Again.
“Already so wet for me.” He sucked along her collarbone. “Can you take two fingers, Wren? Can I fuck you with them?”
Her legs shook, and she clutched his hard shoulders, the muscles moving beneath her hands as he circled her slit, spreading her slickness all over her pussy.
Before she’d even finished saying yes, please, his fingers were inside her, rubbing and twisting, his knuckles hitting somewhere she—
Oh, God.
His thumb pressed her clit hard, and she whimpered and teetered. He braced her with an unyielding arm along her back, licking a spot beneath her jaw that made her gasp.
She was beyond words, but Alex had enough for them both, murmurs as hot as the July sun, rough as boulders breaking waves on the shore.
“I wanted to do this at dinner.” His thumb flicked her clit, circled it, pressed again. “I wanted to put my hand up your skirt and finger-fuck you beneath that tablecloth and make you scream and come in full view of everyone in that goddamn room, helpless to stop yourself.”
She knew he’d never do anything she didn’t want, but—
Her body bucked at the image he’d painted, and she pushed frantically against his hand, spearing herself with those agile, twisting fingers, shoving his thumb harder against her clit, needing just a little bit—
His hand slipped out from under her skirt, and she was empty and shaking in near-orgasm, too weak to do anything but fall on the bed when he rose to his feet and pushed her onto the mattress.
“No,” she whined, and wasn’t even ashamed. “I was so close.”
“I know.” He didn’t sound apologetic. “Farther up the bed.”
It was an order, and she automatically obeyed, hitching herself higher as he tugged her panties down and threw them across the room.
In one fluid motion, he flipped her skirt up to her waist. His hot, hard palms pushed her knees high and spread her thighs wide, and he dove between them.
He was fucking her with his fingers again, rubbing insistently against what must be her G-spot, because holy shit, but she couldn’t even focus on that, because his tongue. His tongue.
She fisted his hair. Clawed at his shoulders. Spread her legs as far as they’d go.
Last night, he’d learned what she liked, and he used all of that knowledge to break her. His tongue swirled around and over her clit, and then he sucked and swirled, even as his fingers rotated and rubbed her mercilessly, and—
“Alex, I’m—” Her head tossed frantically. “Alex.”
She came with a loud cry, arching up and grinding against his face, against his tongue, against his fingers, taking what she needed from him. Her body disintegrated, shook, the spasms so hard they almost hurt.
“Good,” he said, kissing her inner thigh. “One more, and then you’re coming on my dick.”
That time, he slung her thighs over his shoulders and fucked her with his tongue before he returned his full attention to her clit, her legs jerking with every flick, every suck.
It took longer than the first orgasm, but when she came, she was moaning and tugging his hair, pressing his face into her spasming pussy.
Once she’d collapsed onto the mattress, he wiped his mouth and beard with the back of his hand and knelt between her limp, spread legs, his stare hot with lust and self-satisfaction.
Holy crap. He was still fully dressed.
For that matter, if she flipped her skirt back down, so was she. But doing so would take energy she didn’t currently possess, and since he’d just had that entire handsome face buried in her pussy, covering herself seemed somewhat pointless.
He stroked a possessive palm up one thigh. “Still up for more?”
She was sweaty and spent, but she wanted his cock inside her. The one straining at the placket of those fancy pants, the one she’d had stretching her mouth last night.
It was as hard and hot and perfect as he was.
Earlier, she’d imagined him above her for their first time. But that was before he’d taken her apart twice in the space of half an hour, and she intended to return the favor.
“I want on top.” She lifted herself up on one shaky elbow. “If that’s fine with you.”
He grinned wickedly, giving himself a firm stroke through his pants. “If you want to ride my cock, rest assured, Wren: You never have to ask.”