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She leans into me, but I pull away just for one moment to reach for the clasp of her bra and unhook it, letting the fabric fall loose. I repeat the same motion as before with the dress, sliding the straps over her shoulders and down, until the whole thing drops to the ground and leaves her unveiled. I don’t turn her round to look at her, not just yet. I look to the side, to the windows, where I can just make out our reflection. Her breasts stand proudly, pert and waiting, and when I finally set my hands on them we both exhale at the same time in satisfaction.
I keep it light and gentle for now, weighing them in my hands, placing my palms over them to measure how they spill over my fingers. I brush against her nipples, nothing more – no pinching or teasing, not just yet. Just a gentle brush of my fingers and then my palms that, nonetheless, make her arch her back into me and sigh up at the ceiling, like the sound of something coming home for her.
She lets me touch her, move her, strip her down without interruption. She lets me take control. My dick is straining at my pants, aching to be let free. I undo my belt and step out of them and still, she doesn’t move, doesn’t turn. I look up and catch her watching my reflection the same way I watched her, and lean down to kiss her neck with a new passion.
Now there is so little fabric between us, so little to get in the way. But I won’t give in to my urges just yet. I won’t cut off this pleasure, this slow and gentle exploration of her. I drop to my knees behind her, then take hold of her hips to spin her around so she faces me in only her panties.
For a moment, she’s shy again, her hands rushing to cover her breasts. But then she looks at me, at the way I look back at her, and I know she sees nothing but utter worship in my eyes. She drops her hands slowly, letting them hang at her sides, letting me admire her. And I do.
I drop my head, kiss, and nuzzle against her stomach and then lower, breathing in the scent of her. Heady and intoxicating. I may have been here before, but not like this, the dimness of the closet hid her from me more than I would have liked, and there was the rush of the moment, the urgency. I breathe her in now and run my hands up and down her legs, her thighs, massaging and soothing and letting my kisses trail after my fingers.
Finally, I straighten again where I kneel, pushing my fingers under the hem of her panties and sliding them down slowly, so slow. When she gasps I look up to see her eyes closed with anticipation.
I run my hands up over her bare ass, cupping it, kissing the side of her hip bone, her bikini line, down until I taste her.
Then I look up at her, and the only thing I can do is get to my feet.
“I can’t hold off any longer,” I growl, between kisses as I devour and claim her mouth. “Bedroom. Now.”
Chapter Nineteen
Gabby
I couldn’t resist him if I wanted to. And I very much don’t want to. Oz practically lifts me off my feet, still kissing me hungrily and tipping my head back, until the only thing I can do is wrap my legs around his hips and hold onto his shoulders for dear life.
Not that I feel unsafe. With his arms around me, I know I’m secure. He lifts me easily, never pausing in his hungry kisses. Between us, where our hips meet, I can feel the hardness of him pressing into my stomach. It sends something fluttering inside of me, some secret signal that my brain knows how to interpret, switching off all other functions to focus on this one here.
I don’t think I would be able to hold a conversation right now even if I had a gun to my head. At least, not an intelligent one.
I don’t even notice when we step into the bedroom, so wrapped up in him, in everything that is happening to my body. It seems to be going so fast and yet so slow – I was so caught up in the massage of his hands, the gentle caresses he gave me, that I almost didn’t register the loss of each piece of clothing. And yet at the same time, something in my head knew, knew the significance of each piece stripped away from me. It’s heady and confusing and exhilarating and so many other things I don’t know how to name.
