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He eagerly cups my breasts, and I notice that his hands are shaking as his fingers rub circles around my nipples. They harden under his gentle movements, and I moan when he pinches one between his thumb and index finger. Landon’s eyes stay on my chest while his hands play with me, exploring my pleasure. I stop stroking him; my body can’t possibly handle both sensations at once.
“You . . .” Landon’s breath is hot on my breasts. “You’re so—there isn’t a word for how beautiful you are.”
His words fall over me, coating me, and I watch him bend down farther. His lips wrap around my nipple, and he sucks it. When I moan his name, he sucks harder. His other hand is rubbing my other breast in slow circles, and my entire body aches painfully for him.
I’ve never had a man touch me with such reserve. Landon’s touch is both steady and gentle, claiming and freeing. No one has ever taken the time to admire me the way he is now. His cock is out, pressing solidly between us. I want to take every second of this in so that I can think of him later, when he’s no longer mine to touch.
His mouth moves to my other breast. It’s overwhelming, watching him and feeling the vibration of his moans on my skin.
“I want to take your shorts off,” he says, his voice low.
I nod barely, I think.
He grabs me and lifts me off the counter with ease. His hands are no longer shaking when they unbutton my jean shorts. He tugs at them, and they don’t fall. I help him, pulling at the fabric, and once they’re over my ass, they drop to the floor.
Landon’s fingers hook around the strings of my panties, and he kneels in front of me. I put my hands on his head and stroke his soft hair. Slowly, he moves his head back and forth over my panties. I can feel how wet they are already. I’m throbbing.
He inhales a long breath, and my knees nearly buckle under me. How can someone so sweet possibly be so sensual? Landon is so much more unpredictable than he thinks he is.
His nose rubs over my clit, oh so gently, and I moan for him. His hands trail down my body, taking my panties with them as they skim over my legs, and I tremble.
Landon looks up at me, nerves clear in his eyes. He’s nervous. Of course he’s nervous—he’s only been with one woman before. He doesn’t have the same experience that I do. He’s pure, and I’m covered in mud. I need to guide him a little more.
“I want you. I trust you,” I assure him, and his eyes soften. “Taste me.” I tug gently at his hair. “I know you want to taste me on your tongue, Landon.”
With that, he wraps his arms around the back of my legs, and I spread them just enough for him.
My head rolls back the moment his tongue touches me. My wetness mixing with his warm, wet tongue has me holding on to the counter for support. The pleasure I feel is crippling, and the way his tongue glides over my sensitive nerves has me biting down on my lip, trying not to make a sound.
My stomach tightens, and I feel my orgasm climbing up my spine. I’m convinced he’s going to drive me too crazy; he’s too much.
Landon Gibson is the definition of too much.
He draws small circles with his tongue; he doesn’t stray from where I need him. His name falls and falls again from my lips, and his arms are strong, holding me up when my body melts into him. As I come on his tongue, I can’t hold my own body up. He grips me harder, and I let go of his hair and dig my nails into the countertop.
When I finish, he slowly rises from his knees. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are a deep pink, a little swollen and wet from me.
“Let me touch you. I need to touch you,” I whine, needing him. Now.
Landon’s eyes are intense, pouring into mine. “Come to my bed,” he instructs. It’s a foreign voice, a voice so full of command that I immediately nod and follow him to his room.
The walk down the hallway to his room is a long one. Between my thighs, I ache. Between my
