10 Ways to Handle the Best Man by Heidi Rice

yet?’
    ‘Maybe.’ She squirmed and he laughed, spanking her again.
    Forget hot, it was bloody burning, but each sharp slap intensified the magnificent wave which built every time his fingers caressed, tormenting the burning nub.
    ‘That’s it,’ he coaxed. ‘The orgasm will be stronger if you learn to control it.’
    The steady strokes drove her into a frenzy. She bucked, trying to escape his touch now. Sweat beaded on her lip, her breasts swinging, painfully tender. His fingertip teased the aching bud, flicked and circled and fondled.
    ‘I can’t hold off. It’s too much.’
    ‘Yes, you can, just a little longer.’
    Tingles turned to sizzles, and then flared into an inferno as the vicious wave hurtled closer. Then he found the plump, hard nub of her clitoris and pinched.
    ‘Come for me now, Sabrina,’ he whispered, the sound deafening as she let go, allowed at last to fly headfirst through that final barrier.
    The wave of bliss slammed into her, gushing through all the places she ached. The fireball blazed right behind—pumping, burning—like a wildfire torching everything it touched.
    The primal scream wrenched past dry lips—a high, keening sound she didn’t even recognise as her own voice—as she gave herself up to the inferno.

7) Accentuate the Positive: If the best man is doing a good job, tell him so.
    Sabrina floated, weightless, boneless, disorientated. Her sex still throbbing, her mind drifting back to consciousness on a golden tide of sensations.
    Had she ever had an orgasm that strong? That intense? That prolonged? She’d thought the handjob he’d treated her to in Rules had been the nirvana of sexual experiences. Boy, had she underestimated him.
    But then she landed on something cool and her lids popped open, the heady buzz of afterglow dispersed by the scalding heat in her bottom. Connor was poised above her as she lay on the satin quilt in the suite’s master bedroom. Her chest tightened. Had he carried her in here? While she was floating in afterglow?
    ‘Oww,’ she muttered, placing her hand on her smarting bum, brutally aware of the liberties he’d taken with her—and how much she’d enjoyed it.
    ‘That’s more like it.’ He captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger and placed a kiss on her forehead, the affectionate gesture disconcerting. ‘No sleeping allowed before Round Two.’
    She frowned at the arrogant amusement in his tone.
    ‘I’m hardly likely to fall asleep.’ She rubbed her backside. ‘Seeing as my bottom feels as if it’s been branded.’
    The rusty laugh didn’t do much for her temper. ‘Branded? Huh?’ He placed a large callused hand on her bum cheek. The cool caress on the heated flesh sent pleasant ripples of sensation through her nerve endings. ‘Poor baby, you want me to kiss it better?’
    ‘That would be a start.’
    The cool caress lifted to her hip and he rolled her over onto her stomach.
    ‘Hey, let me up.’ She tried to roll back, but he held her in place. Her buttocks tensed. Was he going to spank her again? As mind-blowing as it had been the first time, she wasn’t sure she wanted another round yet.
    But then his lips buzzed her burning bottom—while his fingers plunged into her soaking sex. The glistening egg landed on the pillow in front of her. The sharp pat on her bottom made her yelp, not because it hurt but because it had all those delicious ripples zapping to full attention.
    ‘Consider yourself branded, baby.’
    Humiliation burned her neck, adding to the tingles of awareness, but by the time she’d twisted onto her back to protest, he was on his feet by the bed, unbuttoning his shirt.
    Her indignation dried up alongside all the moisture in her mouth as the hard planes of muscle and sinew were revealed one teasing inch at a time. He tugged the tails of the shirt out of his waistband, and shrugged it off.
    Wow.
    Triceps and biceps and a ton of other muscle groups she didn’t know by name bulged and flexed. Her nipples