Page 58 of Big Girl Panties

"You are so fucking beautiful." His eyes traced over every inch of me, and my body broke out in chills.

My cheeks heated. I wasn't very good at taking compliments. Maybe because I'd rarely gotten them, or maybe because I'd been convinced the few I did get were all lies.

"Thank you," I whispered, the words barely audible even to my own ears. Two simple syllables that failed to mask the doubt lurking beneath them.

Matt studied me, his gaze lingering as if reading a language written on my skin. The smile that curved his lips wasn't the confident smirk I'd come to expect. This was something quieter, more dangerous.

"You don't believe me." Not a question.

"I…" But what could I say? That a lifetime of carefully constructed walls doesn't crumble in a single night? Or that I'd been convinced over the years that beauty and curves couldn't coexist on the same body by almost everyone I'd encountered my entire life. That they weren't two entirely different entities, and because I had curves, it automatically meant I couldn't be beautiful.

No. I couldn't say that because, even in my own mind, it sounded ridiculous. Because it was ridiculous, and the logical part of me knew that, but the broken parts of me still struggled with the idea that I could be both. I could be beautiful, and I could be curvy.

He eased down until our bodies aligned, his weight both grounding and dizzying. "If you could see yourself through my eyes," he murmured, each word a strike against my defenses, "you would never question how I see you." His fingers traced my jawline with devastating gentleness. "You would never question how beautiful you are."

The kiss that followed held no gentleness. It was demand and declaration, stealing the breath from my lungs and the doubts from my mind, at least temporarily. Against my hip, the hard evidence of his desire made a compelling argument that my mind wasn't yet ready to accept, but my body had already begun to believe.

He broke from the kiss, and I sucked in a sharp breath as his lips grazed my jawline, slowly traveling down my throat. His tongue traced my collarbone before kissing, licking, and nipping his way down to my breasts. My heart raced, and my mind was right there with it, trying to fight off a sudden wave of self-consciousness.

He sucked my nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling and flicking over the taut bud as his free hand palmed my other breast. My back arched off the bed as my pussy ached to have him between my thighs. To touch me exactly where I needed him, where I craved him most.

He moved lower, mapping kisses over my stomach and down the tops of my legs. His fingers hooked into the sides of my panties, dragging them down my thighs, letting his knuckles graze my skin until I was completely bare to him.

My heart was pounding so wildly I was sure he could see it through my skin. I wanted him more than anything. More than I'd ever wanted anything, and that was terrifying. The fear of being burned again was still so raw, but there was something in the way Matt touched me, kissed me, looked at me, that told me I could trust him. That told me I could be not just myself, but vulnerable with him.

"Open wide for me, baby." My legs spread wider for him, and his teeth grazed my inner thigh. He slid an arm under each of my legs, reaching around so his hands were on my inner thighs, and he pulled them open even further.

He settled between my thighs, his broad shoulders creating a valley. His breath warmed my skin, a phantom touch that promised more. I waited, every nerve ending on fire. The anticipation itself was a form of exquisite torture.

The first kiss landed on my inner thigh, feather-light. I could have counted the seconds between each kiss if my mind had been capable of such calculations. Each one landed closer to where I ached for him, each slightly firmer than the last, each a step on a journey with a destination that seemed impossibly far away.

My hips betrayed me, shifting restlessly against the sheets. The room's cool air skimmed across my heated skin, the contrast only heightening every sensation.

"Please." The word escaped before I could capture it, half command and half surrender.

I felt his smile against my skin, the slight curve of his lips, the brief scratch of stubble. Then waiting. More waiting.

When his tongue finally found me, it was a whisper of contact so light I might have imagined it. My gasp filled the room as my fingers clutched at expensive sheets, anchoring myself to something solid as pleasure threatened to sweep me away. His answering hum of satisfaction vibrated against my most sensitive flesh, and with that subtle vibration, he began to dismantle me completely.

He licked across my clit, swirling around before slowly sucking me into his mouth. His gaze lifted, meeting mine as his mouth continued its slow, delicious torture. My muscles grew taut, and my body started to shake as my hands curled into the sheets.

I gasped. "Oh my… Matt… I'm going to…"

"Come for me, baby," he purred against my pussy. The heat of his breath feathering across my already very heated skin.

He slipped a finger inside me, pumping in and out before adding another, finding a rhythm with his tongue that set my body on fire.

The tension coiled tighter with each stroke of his tongue, a spring wound to its breaking point. My thighs began to shake, involuntary tremors that betrayed how close I was to the edge.

Five more seconds and I'd be gone.

Four. My breath caught, oxygen suddenly a luxury I couldn't afford.

Three. My vision blurred at the edges, the world contracting to this room, this bed, this man.

Two. I tried to hold back, to make this moment stretch into eternity. The pleasure was too much, too good, and what if it was never this good again? What if this was the peak, and everything after would be just a pale echo?

"Come for me." His command cut through my thoughts, his voice rough with need.