It was a breathtakingly cocky statement. But given that he’d made her hear choirs of angels last night, talking in tongues seemed like a natural progression.

“Now—” He kissed her again, hard and brief, and she moaned helplessly under his onslaught. “You might want to grab hold of the headboard.”

Della took his advice, holding on with both hands as Tucker went to town on her body, her resolve to pleasure him evaporating at the first touch of his tongue. There wasn’t one square inch of her front between her neck and her knees he didn’t put his mouth to, and by the time her body rolled through two orgasms in close succession, he’d actually pushed her beyond tongues to a state of muteness.

And he hadn’t even taken her underwear off.

His lips were nuzzling her throat when he asked, “How was that?”

Even muffled, she could hear the lazy humor in his voice. He knew damn well how it had been. “I think somewhere off the east coast they’re issuing a tsunami warning.”

He chuckled, and puffs of warm air caressed her neck, reigniting little sparks in areas that still hummed with electricity. He pressed a kiss to the hollow at the base of her throat. “Making the earth move,” he said as he eased off her onto his back. “I’ll take that.”

Della rolled up onto her side and snuggled into him. Tucker’s orgasms were amazing, but the afterglow—lying in his arms and pretending that this was more than just another amazing sex lesson—was even better.

His arm automatically closed around her shoulders, and she sighed as his fingers stroked lazily up and down her arm. How could he be so relaxed when his erection was like a metal pipe in his underwear? Just lie here, gently caressing her shoulder and staring at the ceiling like it didn’t matter he had a monster swelling problem in his pants. Like it wasn’t seconds off shredding his boxer briefs to pieces.

Surely that had to be painful?

Dropping a kiss on his shoulder, Della followed it with a string of kisses along his collarbone. He rumbled appreciatively, and she smiled against his skin as she swiped her tongue into the shallow dip at the base of his throat. She licked her way north to the thick pulse beating beside his windpipe, his sandpapery skin tickling at her nose and her cheeks and her tongue, prickling goose bumps across her scalp and down her arms.

Lifting her head, she inspected his features. Another man might have looked girly in the pink light, but it only emphasized the depth of his tan and the corded strength of his neck. It delineated the breadth of his shoulders and the curved solid mounds of his pecs and deepened the brown of his nipples.