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I kissed the strip of cleavage again, marveling at her scent. Roses. I was so hard it was nearly painful, and we’d hardly done more than kiss. It was the anticipation of her. Sinking into her. Watching her come apart. Her ecstasy was my addiction.
“I think you wore this dress hoping to seduce me.” I slowly peeled down the dress. She gasped at the slight sting of the tape releasing from her skin. A thin line of red a few inches long marked the valley of her breasts. I leaned forward and licked the abraded skin first on the left, then the right. “It’s working.”
“Yes, yes please, Atley. Seduce me.”
I sucked her nipples delicately at first, with teasing licks and nibbles that became hard sucks. Her head tipped back as she arched into my attack. Her hips moved in a rhythm I knew too well, tempting me to rush. But not tonight. I had a plan. No matter how much she begged and how she whimpered my name, I’d not change my course.
When I’d had my fill of listening to her moans and gasps, I lifted my head, letting go of her tightly furrowed nipple with an audible pop. “I’m going to need a bed to do this properly.”
I released her wrists to cup her ass and stood, taking her with me. She wrapped her legs around me, and I carried her to the bedroom.
Her dress fell in a puddle on the floor when her feet touched the ground. I stripped the tiny black thong off her in seconds. “On the bed. Spread those thighs.”
I toed off the dress shoes I’d unearthed from the back of my closet and jerked off my socks. I’d never been so thankful not to be in boots. As she crawled up and lay back, I stripped off my clothes in record time, only slowing down long enough to find a condom in my pants pocket.
“Tonight, I’m going to work very hard to change your opinion of missionary position.” Looking at her, I rolled the condom on and kneeled between her spread legs, kissing the inside of her knee. “I want you to come so hard that you put claw marks on my back.”
“I crave you. Every moment of the day. Every time I think of you, I ache. Don’t make me wait any longer.” Her eyes flashed with pent-up desire, and she beckoned me forward.
“Anything for you.”
I teased her entrance with my fingers, finding her wet and ready before I pressed in—inch by inch. I filled her slowly, like easing into a hot bath. The scalding clasp of her body was almost more than I could stand. When I was fully sheathed inside her, I bent forward and kissed her. Raw emotion connected us, a live wire charged with something bigger than desire.
“Show me what feels good.” I stayed still, waiting for her to move, our gazes locked. This was more than sex. We were forging a connection; actions and feelings tied together—a truth we couldn’t deny.
She wrapped her legs around my hips and dug her nails into my biceps. She was tentative at first, rocking up into me, circling her hips, pulling me down. Then she found the rhythm she wanted. I imprinted the feel of her movements on my soul. Every twist and grind. Every gasp and pant. She was laying out the blueprint I’d follow to make her fly.
I murmured her name and echoed her movements with my body, only a little harder and faster. The moment she gasped my name and her eyes fluttered shut, I knew I’d found exactly the right way to change her opinion of missionary forever.
She wrapped her arms around my back, and she chanted into my ear. “Don’t stop. Right there.”
Nothing on earth could have made me stop. I kept up the pace, adding more and more force behind each thrust as she cried outand dug her nails into my back. Her head tipped back, exposing her neck to me. I sucked at the racing pulse in her throat as she chanted my name.
“Tell me when you come. Scream it out. I want to hear and feel every tremor.”
“This feels so good. You feel so good.” She scratched down my back, grabbing my ass, urging me harder and deeper. I put every ounce of force I could into my thrusts. My control was falling apart, the threads of my restraint fraying as fast as she was building up to her release. Sweat slicked our bodies, and she was screaming out in rhythm to our movements.
“I can’t believe, oh Atley. Yes, I’m coming.” Her words were barely intelligible. More gasps than speech that dissolved into a hysterical laugh and half a sob. She trembled and spasmed under me, jerking uncontrollably against my chest. Her tight heat milked my shaft, and I came harder than I’d ever imagined possible.
And through every jolt and explosion, I watched her, drinking in the sight of her falling apart beneath me. I would never get enough.
That night we slept tangled together. I held her naked body to mine as I slipped into the dreamless, drugging sleep I’d been missing for far too long. It was the sleep of a truly satisfied man.
Chapter 33
Rae
“I can’t believe weare this late,” I told Atley as we climbed into his truck. My comment wasn’t entirely true; I could believe we were this late because the sex last night and this morning was that good.
I’d woken up to his incredibly talented tongue between my thighs. After which he showed me yet again how amazing, off the charts, orgasmically good missionary could be. Last night, he’d branded my body with hard, relentless thrusts. This morning had been slow and sweet as honey.
Nothing in the bedroom with Atley Rivers was routine.
If in some cruel joke the universe damned Atley and me to only ever have plain-Jane missionary sex, I’m pretty sure the dirty words he’d whispered to me and the way he held my gaze untilwe both lost our minds would keep it from ever getting boring. Ever!
I was made for him. It was that simple and that complicated. He and I were going to figure this thing between us out for the long term.
But not today. Today was The Stomp.
