When he traces over the side of one breast, I gasp against his mouth.
“Is this—” he pants between kisses, “okay?”
I’m nodding because nodding requires less oxygen, and I don’t have to stop suckling Beau’s bottom lip to do it.
He shifts his hand over my tank top and squeezes my breast, and I release his lip in a sob of ecstasy. Muscles deep inside me clasp in response, and no man’s touch has ever made that happen.
“Bodies are amazing,” I breathe, the words muffling against Beau’s cheek.
“Hmm?” he asks, kissing my jaw and making his way down my neck, that wicked hand teasing my hardened nipple. The tank top has just a shelf bra, but I want to feel the full force of Beau’s attention. My neglected nipple deserves nothing less. And so does the other one.
Yes. Justice for both nipples!
In a snap decision, I reach down, grab the hem of my tank, and whip my top off.
“Oh God, you’re so beautiful,” Beau utters before hitching me up and sucking my left breast into his mouth. He moans around my flesh.
I throw my head back because, holy God, I think I could come just from this. I rake my fingers through his hair as the sensation sucks all of my control through a crazy straw.
I’ve always thought my boobs were just a little too small. Moira has always said so. Wardrobe is always strapping me in push-up bras with plenty of padding.
But if there was any more boob to my boob that’s in Beau’s mouth, the pleasure would be too much. Too damn much.
When he moves his kisses, and suckles the right one, my spine turns to coconut oil. I grab his shoulders, my body humming with every vibration of his moans.
Drenched in pleasure, I run my hands down his chest and shake my head. “Take it off,” I say, tugging at his T-shirt. But Beau just cinches me tighter around the waist, arching my back, and sapping my focus.
Jesus God, what can’t this man do? Dance. Build a frickin’ house. Turn my timid tits into porn stars.
I rock forward and connect with the hard ridge of his cock, surprising moans from both of us. The need to run my hands over Beau’s skin is a revelation. I marshal my efforts and grab again at his shirt.
“I need to touch you.” Am I begging? It sounds like I’m begging. I don’t care.
Beau must hear the urgency because he pulls back and locks eyes with me for one blistering second before he reaches back and yanks off his shirt. I can tell by his smoldering look he’s about to dive back into my meager cleavage, so I put a hand on his chest.
It’s so hot against my palm I lose my breath.
“Wait,” I pant.
Alarm flashes in his brown eyes. He grips my waist with both hands. “Too fast?”
“No,” I’m quick to say. Then more slowly. “No... But it’s my turn.” I paint my fingers down his chest and watch his eyelids fall to half-mast. He is absolutely beautiful. The dark hair of his beard is echoed in a natural arrow between his pecs. Muscles bunch and quiver under my touch.
As soon as I trace my fingers below his navel, he grips my wrist. I snap my gaze back up to his to find him glaring, all stern and serious.
God, I love that look.
“Yes?” I tease with false innocence.
His eyes narrow on me. “What do you think you’re doing?” His voice is nothing short of a growl, but a smile fights to peek at me from the corners of his mouth.
Loving you,I want to say.
Instead, I take my free hand and run the back of my nails up the path I just traveled along his torso. He shuts his eyes as a shiver passes over him. I want to make that happen again and again.
Beau peels his eyes open and arches one brow. “I asked you a question.”
My fingers reach his right nipple, and I trace its circle. I manage just one revolution before he snatches that wrist with his other hand.
