Page 21 of Mountain Impact

She made a little humming sound, and fuck if he didn’t remember that exact noise. It went straight to his cock, turning the semi hard-on he’d had since seeing her in the garage into a raging hard-on.

The moment their lips met, Drake understood why he’d been waiting for her for six years―knew also that he would wait forever for her.

He closed his eyes, purposefully keeping the kiss slow and gentle, but that was clearly not what Isolde wanted. Her hand tightened on the back of his neck as her mouth opened further, the tip of her tongue coming out to connect with his. They explored each other’s mouth, their bodies so close to each other that Drake couldn’t tell if the pounding he was hearing was the sound of his heart or hers.

He could have kissed her for hours, but after only a few minutes she took a step back. Drake didn’t have the chance to ask her why before she took his hand and led him out of the living room, into her bedroom.

Like the rest of the apartment, her bedroom was light. A Queen-sized bed was the focus of attention―Drake counted eight pillows in different shades of blue an instant before Isolde closed the bamboo blinds almost all the way, leaving the room in semi-darkness.

“Hey,” he complained, reaching for her shape. The complaint died on his lips as his eyes got used to the darkness and he saw her start undoing her button-down blouse.

“That’s a lot of buttons,” he said breathlessly. “Let me help you.”

“Please,” she whispered, arching into his touch.

Drake’s large hands cupped the weight of her breasts easily―a real handful. His thumbs grazed over her nipples for an instant, before he turned his attention to the buttons. He was as careful with those buttons as he planned on being with her, even though his cock throbbed for attention behind his zipper.

Finally, he pushed the blouse off her shoulders, baring a lacy white balcony bra that had trouble containing her beautiful breasts.

Unable to help himself, he pushed the fabric down and bared a nipple, watching it pebble under his gaze. Staring straight into her eyes, Drake rolled the nipple between thumb and forefinger, until it stiffened to the size of a large, ripe raisin. Then he sucked hard on it.

Her hips jerked towards his.

“Please,” she begged.

He raised his mouth from her breast for an instant, just to form the words. “Please, what?” he asked, then went right back to sucking gently.

“More,” she said. Her hands went to his shirt. She found the bottom edge of his polo shirt and pulled, scratching him lightly as she did so. Drake helped her get it off, thrilled by the moan of appreciation when his upper body was bared. He wanted more light, so he could see her better―but her touch distracted him, her hands reaching for his belt buckle. Moments later, his pants and boxer shorts were down by his ankles. His cock sprung free, straight and long, seeking only one thing―to be inside her.

He stepped out of his trousers and boxer shorts and took off his socks.

Her small hands ran along his body, caressing his shoulders, his pecs, his stomach muscles. His cock clenched, wondering when its turn was going to come.

“Your body is … wow,” Isolde whispered.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Drake replied. “Come here.” He took off her pants. Her panties were made of the same scrappy lace as her bra―fine enough that he could rip it in one easy move. Isolde’s breasts heaved, as if she could read his thoughts. She hadn’t moved the cups of the bra back, so the cups still hung below her breasts, pushing them out towards him. It was sexy as hell. He wanted to suck on those nipples and never stop.

“You should wear your bra like this all the time,” he said, kneading her breasts.

“Take my panties off,” she begged.

Keeping one hand on her breasts, Drake moved his other hand down the side of her body. As he touched her stomach, she moved away.

Ticklish?

He ran his fingers down to her hips until their path was stopped by a bit of lace. He pulled it downwards, baring her sex for him. He wished again there were more light in the room. Now that the barrier between them was gone, his fingers found her mound―her hair down there was neat and trimmed, but womanly. Drake moaned appreciatively―he wasn’t a fan of the pre-pubescent bare look.

He remembered how they’d touched each other in the past, but six years was a long time. He was going to learn her pleasure tonight, and not make any assumptions about her desire.

Isolde walked towards the bed and he followed―he would have followed her to the ends of the world. He wanted to make this good for her―so good that she came back for more, because he already knew he would want more.

Lying beside her to avoid crushing her, he parted her folds gently. He almost wept for joy as his finger found her wet already for him―he spread her wetness from her slit up to her sensitive clit. She moaned as he slid his thumb across the small nub, again and again.

“Stop, please.”

Drake immediately froze and moved up the bed so he could stare into her eyes. Stop was a red word for him. “Are you okay, Isolde?”

He needed her to know he would stop at any point if she wanted him to.