"Please don't be nervous baby, I just want a taste." My lips lower to his without any further prompting. Beau's hand comes up to the back of my neck. He moves me, fitting our lips together; he controls the kiss. Tasting. This is exactly how he does it. He's slow, savoring my mouth, using it. My body lowers to meet his as I relax into the kiss.
With his free hand he pulls me closer, and my soft belly meets the hard muscle of his stomach. My breasts are pressed to his chest. He lifts his hips deepening the contact.
"So warm, Sammy. I can feel how hot you are. Are you wet for me sweets?"
"Yes," I sigh.
My hand runs through his hair. It's long enough to brush against his shoulders when his head is tilted back. I wrap my other hand around the side of his neck, caressing the short hairs at the base of his neck.
Beau’s mouth runs along my throat. He licks and kisses the sensitive skin, and I moan when he finds a particularly sweet spot and bites down on it. The pressure zings through my entire body. It has me swiveling my hips down on top of him, seeking friction to ease my ache.
Beau thrusts up, causing a breathy noise to escape my mouth that seems to excite him. He glides his hands up my sides to my breasts, his palms at my rib cage, while both his thumbs brush over my areolas and press down on my hardened nipples. The pressure elicits another moan from my mouth. I grind down, seeking the feeling of his arousal between my legs. I press my forehead against his as I lick and kiss my way back to his mouth while rocking against him shamelessly. It’s too much. I am so close to coming as I press our bodies close, seeking even more pressure in the circular motion of my hips.
"Sammy, I want to touch you.” He speaks against my lips, “Will you let me touch you?" His hand travels down, before I can answer. He pushes against the seam of my pants, making contact with my clit.
"Yes.” I whisper on exhale, “Yes, please."
He scoots forward. I'm so out of it, I almost fall to the floor. I stand, recovering quickly but confused. Didn't he just say he was going to touch me? I turn around to hide my confusion.
I run my hands run down my thighs, needing contact. Beau molds his front to my back.
"I didn't tell you to get up, sweets.” He breathes the words against my ear, “Don't do that." I shiver, "You like it when I touch you, don't you Sammy?” His hand covers mine. He moves them down my stomach, “You told me I could touch you, right?" Our hands slide into my pants, under my panties. He stops us there.
"Yes," I hiss, needing more. "I thought you were getting up, I didn't want to fall."
"You're trusting me with your body, letting me touch you right?" I nod, and his hands squeeze mine, his middle finger puts pressure down on mine, circling my clit, "I'd like you to trust me.” I can’t reply. My mouth is open, but the only noise I can make is a breathy moan. “I won’t let you fall. Trust me to take care of you, sweets."
"I'll try," I offer on a breathy exhale. He continues to manipulate my finger to circle my clit.
“You’re safe with me,” He whispers, kissing the skin beneath my ear, “I promise.”
"I'm trying.” I don’t know what I am saying, the pressure of fingers overwhelms me. He stops his hand and pulls it away from me. I want to keep going, I nearly do, but he takes my hand with him, turning me around.
He looks me in the eye, "If I asked to lick your pussy would you let me, sweet Sammy?" I swallow as my eyes shoot open. I'm embarrassed, unable to meet his gaze, when I answer.
My shoulders shrink in as I respond, "Yes, I think so."
He growls, his voice deeper than before when he says, "Good, I would never ask anything of you that makes you uncomfortable or hurts you, and you can always tell me to stop anytime. I want you to trust me."
"Okay Beau, I can do that. I can trust you." The trust I promise goes further than the implication of sex. I hope he doesn't break my heart too fast.
"Perfect, baby. I want you on the bed." He spins me around, and his hand swats my ass cheek to lead me in the direction of my bed. I walk slowly, not sure I want to look back.
Couldn't he kiss me some more, touch me so it feels natural for that to happen? I don't know what to do. Do I take my clothes off? Or does he? I'm glad I shaved, but I still can’t imagine him being so close to me, there.
"Sammy," Beau calls, purposefully drawing me out of my spiral of worries.
"Okay, okay," I mummer like a teenager. I leave my clothes on since he didn't ask me to take them off. I don't turn around as I crawl up the bed. I get to the center of the mattress and turn to face him, my eyes still down cast.
I feel weird sitting on my bed waiting for him, wearing jeans and a shirt. A giggle slips free, before I bite my bottom lip to hold my mouth shut.
I hear a hum and look up to see Beau standing in the same spot looking at me with a small grin.
"Take your shirt off, sweets."
“Wh-what?" With him still all the way over there?
“Samantha," I roll my eyes because the jackass is testing me. I pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor in his direction. It lands long before it can actually hit him.
