His finger covers my lips as he climbs onto the navy-blue quilt. “No buts. I know you’re scared, but please, can we just see where this goes?”
His words soothe the pain in my chest like aloe on sunburn, and when his thumb brushes the tears from mycheek, I almost fall apart. His lips brush against mine, sending shocks of warmth down my spine.
“Of course we can.” He dots kisses on my forehead then my damp cheeks before his lips return to mine.
How can I say no to this man? He’s sweet and kind, respectful and funny, and he kisses like he was made just to lie here and kiss me.
I want more, need more. My clothes scratch my burning skin. Why isn’t he ripping them off me? Why am I not naked yet?
Dude. I’m all for being respectful but just take off my fucking clothes already.
Fine. If he’s going to be all gentlemanly and not rip my clothes from my aching body, I’ll take things into my own hands. Literally.
Breaking apart the kiss for half a second, I figure out where the bottom of his shirt is and start tugging it. He’s chuckling into my mouth as he keeps kissing me, his hand sliding around the curve of my jaw and into my hair.
“Impatient?” he breathes between kisses. “Can’t I just savor this time with you?”
“Not to sound like a raging horn dog, but can we savor without the clothes?”
“What the lady wants…”
I don’t feel like a lady right now, I feel like a bitch in heat. It takes a behemoth effort not to dry hump his thigh while we strip off our clothes.
His hands on my bare skin fuel the fire raging inside me. I need him.
Clutching his shoulders, my nails sink into his skin, drawing a guttural moan from him as I drag them down the length of his back. His lips sear a trail down the column of my throat, his fingers slipping into my pussy.
He’s in no rush, lazily circling my clit as my hips bucktoward him, frenzied, needy, desperately aching for him to put me out of my misery and let me come.
“What’s the rush, Firecracker?”
Staring down at his fingers sliding through my folds, a flash of color catches my attention. Despite the scorching need to climax, I grab his arm, lifting it up to get a closer look.
“What the fuck? When did you get this?”
He looks down at his arm then back to me. “Best I can tell is I got it done the morning after we, you know.”
There’s a brightly colored firecracker on the inside of his arm. He got this for me? The date on it is the morning after we had our one-night stand. That’s so…permanent.
My heart soars, smacking against my ribcage as it tries to escape my body. “Why would you do this? It’s so extra.”
He brushes his nose against mine. “I’m guessing I got it for the same reason I pursued you the second time even though I couldn’t remember you.” His damp fingers trail over my hard nipple, sending a shiver through me and pulling a moan from somewhere deep inside.
“You’re special, Victoria. I knew it the first time.” He tips his head to his tattoo, and we both watch his hand trail over my belly rolls and disappear between my legs. “And I know it this time.”
When his fingers pick up speed in earnest, my head tips back against the soft pillow that smells like him. My back arches, my hips roll, and I’m not sure which of us is chasing my orgasm more, but he’s resolute. He’s not letting go. His tongue has somehow made his way to my nipple and is rolling it around like it’s his favorite pastime.
When he pinches my clit, he snaps his teeth on my nipple at the same time, making me shriek.
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I scold him through his laughter. “They’ll hear me.”
“What makes you think I don’t want them to hear you, Victoria?” His fingers lazily flutter around my clit.
This is it, this is how I die.
Cause of death will read sexual frustration on my death certificate.
Unless I kill him for teasing me first. Thenhiscause of death willalsoread sexual frustration. I’d be pretty justified in his murder too. The judge would agree, no one should tease someone to this extent.
