Bending over her, I mouth them through the lace, loving how they tighten more, how her hands find their way to my head and her fingers tug at my short hair.
How she moans my name.
Hell, I’ll show her all right. Show her all I have, all I could fucking be for her. All I could give her, if things were different.
How I’d make her mine.
***
Her bra is pretty, but it has to go. I slip my arms behind her back, searching for the mysterious, hidden clasp, and then make my fingers bleed by trying to open it.
Then it comes apart and I suck in a sharp breath at the sight of her, exposed to me like this, her tits round and golden, the nipples dark. I run my hands down her body, parting the dress, and hell, she’s a goddamn wet dream.
I bend over her, licking and tasting, teasing her nipples until she moans and writhes underneath me. She tastes like she smells—of vanilla cream and almonds. Looks like I have a sweet tooth, I think randomly as I lightly bite her nipple and she squeals. Definitely.
Fuck, I need to come. Need to come inside her, mark her, fill her. Take her.
Shuddering, so damn hard my dick could drill through a wall, I kiss a trail between her breasts, down her quivering belly, down, down, until I can rip her panties off and settle between her legs, winking up at her.
Are you ready, baby?
My knee aches, my shoulder throbs, and I don’t fucking care. Wouldn’t trade my place for anything in the world.
She’s watching me from under lowered lashes, lower lip caught between white teeth, a flush spreading over her breasts and neck, rising to her cheeks. Unsure. A little scared. Turned on.
Sexy as hell.
I part her folds with my thumb. She’s so wet. I flick my thumb over her swollen clit, and she gasps, her hips lifting. I press them back down.
And I bury my face between her legs, tasting her, licking along her seam, jabbing my tongue inside her. Her breathing turns shallow, frantic. Her legs tense and tremble, closing over my shoulders, and her fingers tangle in my hair painfully. Her body arches, her sweetness floods my senses.
Jesus. She’s as close as I am, and the realization she’s about to come against my mouth is too much. Shifting, I lick her clit, circle it with my tongue, and slip a finger inside her. She’s tight, so tight, and gets tighter still as she gasps and clenches hard.
I can feel it, feel her everywhere, feel her pleasure as it cascades down her body and into mine.
“Seth.” Her breathless cry echoes in my ears.
Can’t hold back any longer. I reach down, grab my dick through my sweats, tug once, twice—and it’s all I can do not to howl as I jerk, my dick pulsing inside my sweats.
Oh fuck… I lay my head on her creamy thigh and come and come. It’s as if I haven’t come in years, the way my dick bursts, the way my body shakes, my balls trying to empty themselves to the last fucking drop.
Just because she’s here. So damn close. Because her taste is still on my tongue, her scent everywhere, her warmth against my arms, my cheek. Seeping into the cold, dark spaces of my soul, filling them with fire and light.
I know this is a bad idea, a goddamn terrible idea, in fact—and I don’t care. Don’t care how far I fall, not when her pulse ricochets through me, when she reaches for me and whispers my name.
Who cares about tomorrow? Never thought I’d have one, anyway. The present is the only thing that counts in my book.
Besides, with my luck and my past, it’s more than I deserve.
Chapter Fourteen
Manon
Whoa, what was that? Pleasure still rolls through me in great waves, my core clenching and unclenching, wanting more.
More of him.
Can’t believe how crazy good that was. Can’t believe he did that, that he went down on me, and…
Oh God, I came with his mouth on my clit, his finger inside me. Through the haze in my brain and the pleasure still shuddering up and down my spine, making my insides contract again and again as my orgasm ebbs away, I’m having a little breakdown.
Shitshitshit, can’t believe this just happened. He’s still lying there, his head on my thigh, his panting breath scorching my skin—still dressed, where I’m naked on his couch, underneath him, splayed wide, and—
“Beautiful,” he rasps, and I freeze. “You’re beautiful. The way you came, from my touch, Christ, I…” He puts his hands by my hips and lifts himself up, his gaze intense, burning into me. “That was fucking awesome.”
“You liked it?” I put my hands over my breasts, covering up the best I can, but he’s having none of it. He gently pries my hands off, and his eyes darken as he stares down at my breasts.
“Are you fucking kidding me, woman? Asking me if I liked going down on you, licking you, fingerfucking you until you came calling out my name?”
Oh crap, I did that? Now I want to cover my face, but he’s still holding my hands. He lifts them, one by one, and places kisses on my palms that burn like stars in my mind.
“I came,” he says, and when I glance up, startled, I find him grinning down at me. “I almost didn’t need to touch myself, I was so close. I fucking loved it, loved tasting you and touching you. I’d do it every day and every night, but…” He winks. “I have more things I wanna try out with you.”
Other things. Unable to help myself, I think of his cock, the way it looked, swollen and flushed, when I’d touched it the other day, the way he’d showed me how to touch it, and then him coming, shaking, falling apart.
I want him inside me. The thought both excites and frightens me. I remember well how big his cock was, but I want… want to feel it stretching me, piercing me deep. I want to touch his chest, his powerful shoulders, study his ink, study every scar and every memory imprinted on his skin.
Kissing him, touching him, making him come, seeing the pleasure flitting over his handsome face… Then wrapping him up in my arms, keeping him safe. God, never wanted anything so much.
What’s happening to me? Who is this girl living in my skin, wearing my face, a girl I didn’t know until now? Where did she come from?
Was she inside me all along, only waiting to be let out?
He moves, breaking through my musings, sitting back, massaging his thigh through his sweats. With a twinge of guilt, I remember his bad knee—a little too late. Can’t feel too guilty, though, not when he’s looking at me sideways, that satisfied grin still on his lips.
He looks happy, I realize with a start, and it could well be the first time since I met him that the shadow of sorrow darkening his gaze is gone.
I’m still staring, mesmerized by his boyish smile, the sparkle in his dark eyes, when he decides to undress.
End of profound thoughts. End of thinking, period. I think I might be drooling.
Holy crap, this boy. I mean, I saw him naked once before, but I was nervous and stressed and not sure what the hell was happening—why I was looking at him, or touching him. Why I was drawn to him.
No such doubts now.
He pulls his T-shirt off, revealing his inked chest, and those mouthwatering muscles ripple as he tugs the cloth over his head and lets it drop to the floor. Small brown nipples on defined pecs, and the snake tattooed on his shoulder moves with the shifting of his biceps, opening its mouth wider.
A shiver travels through me, but then he’s pushing down his wet sweats and briefs, the musk of his cum rising, so sexy—and who cares about that snake when he’s bared to me completely? His cock is half-hard, jutting out from soft dark curls, and his sack hangs heavy underneath. His thick thighs are almost hairless, and his hipbones jut out below his narrow waist.
My gaze returns to his cock. It’s hardening as I watch, thickening, lengthening. His breathing is growing ragged, but he doesn’t do anything. Just sits there, letting me look until I have my fill.
Until I sit up, too, vaguely aware of my own nudity but not as nervous as I thought I’d be—not after his mouth and hands have been all over me, when he said I’m beautiful, when he came from touching me and kissing me—and I reach for him.