“No. You know I love candles. Everything is perfect exactly how it is. I can’t believe you did all this, Bobby.”
“I’ve been imagining this, you and how I want it, since the first night in your car,” he admits, not the least bit embarrassed by that confession, and his confidence out of nowhere is so sexy that it makes the blood pump faster and faster through my body.
Leaning down, he kisses me, quietly this time, his tongue dancing and playing, fucking my mouth in an unhurried thoroughness matching the glide of his hands on my body. He lifts my hair and his lips are on my neck. I’m impatient inside and he is moving slowly, agonizingly slow in this.
He places featherlight kisses along my jaw, my chin, and then steps back from me again. He pushes down his jeans, and his erection springs free as his pants fall to the floor.
I flush…oh my.
I’ve never seen him one hundred percent nude, not in a single dose, and he is fucking gorgeous, every inch of him lean, cut and tan. I never doubted that, but I’m more than a little intimidated by the sight of him because that part I’m pretty familiar with looks different in a complete, fully revealed package.
Somehow him standing above me, his desire for me openly exposed in full length, makes his cock seem even larger than I thought it was, and it’s so unexpected and hot that I don’t know how much longer I can remain still on the bed as he guides us through this.
“Why haven’t you undressed yet?” he murmurs, balancing on a knee, close to me on the bed.
I stare up at him. “Since you’re the one who’s got this all planned out, maybe you should undress me.”
“Really? You’re just going to lie back and let me do what I want to you?” He moans, lifting my leg from the bed and kissing his way down toward my foot.
“Maybe. It depends on what you want to do to me.”
“I want to do this.” His tongue swirls on the inside of my thigh. “And I definitely have plans for this.” The heat of his mouth behind my knee. “I want even your toes.” He pulls off one of my Converse and kisses along my arch to my ankle. “There isn’t a single part of your body I haven’t had a nasty thought about. You are so fucking beautiful, Kaley. I dream even about your feet and wake up with an erection.”
He takes off my other shoe and eases upward enough to hover over me. The loss of contact with his body makes me squirm with need.
“You dream about my feet, huh?”
“Oh yeah. Very nasty things, feet.” The corners of his mouth lift in sort of a blurred smile. “Do you dream about me?”
I suck in a breath.
I nod.
“What do I do to you in your dreams?”
I crinkle my nose. “Nothing with your feet.”
He laughs, husky and low. “No?”
“No.”
“What did you dream about last night? Don’t tell me you didn’t have a sex dream about me. I know you did. I could feel the pent-up physical frustration when you climbed into the car. You dreamed something. I did, too.”
And because I’m not the least bit bold at the moment, not with how he’s staring at me, my hands fist in his hair in a silent gesture meant to tell him what I dream about—not just last night, every night since he went down on me—and I’m not exactly sure where I want to bring his face when, on his own, he lowers his face to my lace-covered vulva.
His lips are demanding, heated and slow, as they wander from my cunt across my body. He starts unbuttoning my dress, and his eyes widen when he smooths it back to find my bare breasts. He nips his way across their rise and down my stomach to my navel.
His tongue swirls as my clothes are somehow tugged off me and then his heated breath stirs me through my panties one last time before he takes them off.
Reclined on a hip and propped on an arm, he goes completely motionless as he does a slow study of me from head to toes and then back up again.
I feel unexpectedly shy and a little anxious waiting as he does nothing but look at me for a very long time.
Shit, why doesn’t he say something?
Do something?
I’m really wet.
I’m pulsing in shockwaves down there.
Oh fuck, why doesn’t he start this?
“Do you like what you see?”
“I love what I see,” he whispers appreciatively, and my nipples harden just from the sound of his voice. “I could look at you all night.”
“You had better not look at me all night,” I murmur in agony. “If you don’t do something fast I’m going to melt before you get a chance to—”
His lips close around my nipple as his fingers tease my sex and then plunge into me. Both his fingers and his mouth go to work on me and I’m nearly convulsing. He blows gently on one rose tip, rolling it with his thumb, elongating it into his touch, as his fingers slip in me below, out and around, then back in again. Every nerve in my body is screaming with sweet agony.
My breasts swell as he moves back and forth between my hardened nipples, tugging and licking and blowing. His finger stills deep inside me and he massages my clit with his palm, and when my body arches up on the bed he takes one nipple in a hard suck that doesn’t stop.
Oh fuck. My legs are stiffening. Shit…I don’t want to come this soon. His teeth latch onto my nipple as his fingers fuck me below and I scream out, my body convulsing.
“Was that fast enough?” he asks before kissing me deeply, his tongue in my mouth muffling my cries. I want him in me now, but he hovers at my lips until my flesh quiets.
It was quick foreplay, but it was good, definitely enough to kill any apprehension about going all the way with him. I’m ready for what comes next, to feel him buried inside me as I give myself to him.
He eases back and I open my eyes. My breathing is still ragged, but he doesn’t reach for a condom. He starts moving down my body instead. He thrusts a finger inside me and I cry out again.
“You’re so wet. It’s going to be like drinking you instead of sipping.”
He moves between my legs, spreading them farther apart, and his mouth closes over me. Holy fuck. He just made me come apart and my body is heating up again. I didn’t know it could happen again so quickly.
His tongue flicks my clit, then sinks into me, teasing that inner hot spot.
Every thought in my head spins away.
There is only him, fingers and tongue, sensation and need. I’m arching again, grinding into his tending, and greedily taking every tantalizing stroke against my pulsing sex. My legs start to quake, my body tightens, my fingers curl around the bedding, and he doesn’t pull back as I ride his mouth harder and harder.
I come rough and fast against his face. I’m limp and panting. I feel him move. Through my scattered senses I hear the rip of foil and I catch a quick glimpse of him gloving his erection before his mouth claims mine and his tongue swirls in me so I can taste me on him.
He positions the tip of his erection against the entrance to my sex and starts making tiny, torturously controlled presses against my still pulsing vulva.
“You’re dripping wet and ready, but I still need to go slow, baby,” he whispers into my ear.
Each time he sinks himself a little farther in me before he pulls back to tease me with only his tip, until I moan and my body urges him to enter me a smidge deeper. He pulls back, his dick rubbing my swollen lower lips, and then slowly glides in and my lids fly wide as a sharp, weird sort of pinching sensation shoots through me as he plunges through my virginity.
He freezes, but every muscle from head to toe is trembling. “Oh God, you are so deep but very tight. Don’t move. Don’t touch me. I need to wait until I feel you soften again.”
Don’t move? How the fuck am I supposed to not move? I feel completely overfilled by him inside me, and even with the slowly dulling pain, the urge within me is to lift my hips and take more of him.
I wriggle beneath him and he stops me with his hands on my hips. His breathing is harsh. He’s groaning and shaking, but not thrusting.