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His hand strokes over my shoulder and down my arm, and then his knuckles graze the tip of one breast.
I gasp. The touch was unexpected, as unexpected as the zing of arousal that flares through me.
"Bad?" he asks.
"Good." I kiss his upper lip, silently asking for more. "So good."
Jerrok rumbles something that might be pleasure, and then his mouth is on mine again, even as his hand lands fully on my breast. He caresses the mound of it gently, then focuses his attention on the tip, his thumb rubbing over it in a way that makes me want to crawl out of my skin. I whimper and press up against him, urgently licking at his mouth.
He nips at my lower lip at the same time as he gives my nipple a light pinch, and I whimper, because it sends another flare of heat through my body. "Here you thought you wouldn't like to be touched," he murmurs, rubbing his nose against mine. He looks at me with those hot, proud eyes, as if I'm the most amazing thing possible. "But look at how pretty you are right now. You're perfect, and you should know that."
I dig my fingers into his skin, lifting my mouth for more kisses.
"You want me to touch you lower? Or should I keep my hand on these pretty breasts for now?"
"Will you keep kissing me?"
He chuckles, and it's like liquid chocolate pouring into my veins. "I don't think I could stop."
I moan. I love that he enjoys kissing me as much as I like it, too. I love that he likes his mouth on me. I'm so glad he doesn't want to use plas-film to keep us apart. I love how raw our kisses are, how our tastes mingle, how I can feel every rasp of his tongue against my own. A shiver of anticipation courses through me as his hand slides to my belly and then pauses. I suddenly want his hand between my thighs, where I'm aching the most.
"I'm going to touch you like you touched yourself," he murmurs to me between kisses. "I've watched you so many times, seen what you like. It's good that we're taking things slow, because then I can know just how to touch you right and make you come so hard. Do you want that?"
I let out another little whimper, nodding. I love his dirty talk, love how he's telling me what he's going to do but somehow still checking in with me to make sure I'm on board. It's the verbal equivalent of him holding my hand through this, and I adore it.
At this point, I'm more than on board—I'm aching for it.
I can't seem to stop making little noises of need in my throat as his fingers stroke my belly, edging ever so slowly downward. I need him—need this—so much. It's like the past week has been priming me for his touch, and all of my fear is gone. I'm craving a release, and one that he gives me. When his hand strays to my mound and he strokes the hair there, I sigh. It's like knowing relief is in sight.
"Part your legs for me, Sophie," he murmurs, then gives me the lightest kiss. I do, the vulnerability of it just adding to my hunger. I trust him, my gaze locked on his handsome, familiar face as he strokes a finger through my slick. To my surprise, Jerrok is the one holding his breath, and it explodes from him when he touches my pussy. "Look at how wet you are. You really liked pleasuring me with your mouth?"
"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't." My own breath is a little gaspy at this point as his finger glides back and forth through my wetness. I spread my legs wider for him, my gaze locked on his face. "I liked watching you come. I liked tasting you. I liked touching you." I wiggle a little closer to him, wanting to press my face against his chest. "I can't wait to do it again."
He groans, and drags two fingers through my slippery folds, petting me, before he moves to my clit and focuses there. He changes movements, switching to small circles around the hood of my clit, and he really has been paying attention as I touched myself. I cry out, burying my face against him as he begins a slow, exquisite pace. Not too hard, not too soft, not too slow, not too fast.
Then he nudges me with his nose, and when I turn to meet him, his mouth is on mine again, hungry and devouring as he works my pussy with his fingers. He pushes one big finger against the entrance to my core, groaning when he finds out how wet I am. He pushes that finger deep inside—something I've only done to myself once as he watched—and then moves his thumb to my clit and continues to work it.
