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As I watch, she takes the hem of her pale blue T-shirt and begins pulling it up, revealing her rib cage, the arch of her back, until she’s taken the shirt off and her hair is free, bouncing back into place as she smiles invitingly.
Her nipples are deep reddish pink, puckering temptingly. Ridged and begging for attention.
“Are you starting to get the picture?”
“I know I am,” Chance growls, covering the great room in just a few strides. He drops to his knees right in front of her, landing with his hands on her hips. I watch his fingers dig divots into her buttocks as he buries his nose in the sweet, blushing swell of her belly just above the waistband of her jeans.
She reaches out toward me, crooking a finger in my direction, beckoning me toward her.
“Don’t just stand there,” she chides, gasping as Chance tickles the sensitive parts of her skin.
“Chance,” I growl, “get her on the sofa.”
Without a word, he rises, sweeping her under the knees in one fluid movement. He carries our prize to the middle of the great room, depositing her on the deep, plush sofa. As she lies back, her full breasts jiggle and settle nearer her arms, the outer curves enticing me.
Chance catches my eye for approval, signaling that he’d like us on either side of her. I instantly agree. That’s exactly what I want too, and we nudge her toward the back of the sofa, propping up her hair so that she can watch us both as we prepare to inspect her more closely.
Chance settles back slightly and darts his eyes toward the button of her blue jeans, silently inviting me to undress her further. I almost don’t want to. I want to leave more of her to unwrap later, but I don’t think that will be enough. At the very least, I need to see her. Though I believe that good things are worth waiting for, I need very much to see her.
She shutters and wriggles as I thumb open the button closure, and I note the way that her belly jiggles as she chuckles softly. Twisting, she maneuvers her hips so that the fabric slides over the tops of her thighs, revealing the shiny blue silk of her girlishly demure panties.
It takes all of my control to keep from ravishing her now. I want to expose all of her, to consume all of her. But I don’t want to shut Chance out. I want this moment to be shared equally, to set the precedent and expectation.
And also to test her. Is she really ready for this? She seemed to be ready yesterday, but it is quite a lot.
When she is free of her jeans, she arches her back, flexing her toes as she bends her knees up.
“Now you,” she suggests, jerking her chin toward Chance’s trousers.
“Not today, pet,” he informs her. “Today is just for you.”
Her eyes widen and she glances at me for affirmation.
“We need to get you ready,” I confirm, running my palm along the inside of her calf, up over the ridges of her knee. “By the time we get inside you, you need to be extremely ready. Know what I mean?”
She bites her lower lip, shuddering as Chance begins softly pinching the skin at her waist, teasing her.
“Oh… I think I’m ready,” she sighs. “I think I’ve been ready for this for years.”
“Don’t rush, Chelsea,” Chance coaches her as he leans down to swirl his tongue around her navel. “It will be worth it.”
“Just relax,” I murmur as I stroke the inside of her thigh, gradually pushing her knees apart.
She’s tense, I can tell, but after a few moments I feel her convincing herself to relax. She uncurls her toes while I stroke her calves, gradually allowing me to wander closer and closer to those bright blue panties. Sky blue. Cotton-candy blue. Where the sweetness is.
Chance focuses on her upper half, licking across the width of her waist, fingers trailing over the ridges of her ribs, teasing her with every pass. Her breath quickens as he lightly nips the underside of her breast and I’m a little jealous, wishing I could be important places at once.
But I have all this in front of me. Open thighs. The ridge of that secret tendon on the very top of her thighs, the one that joins her legs to her pelvis. So tempting, like a stri
ng in a piano. I want to have my mouth on it.
Slowly I position myself between her knees, hooking her legs over my shoulders as I angle downward. She shudders but doesn’t tighten up.
Her panties are taut across her pussy, creased in the middle to give the impression of the outline of her lips, the topographical map of her inner folds. Teasing, I drag my fingernails across the fabric, delighting in the sound of the friction as well as the trembling response she gives me.
Chance glances down at me from his position between her breasts, his lips gleaming with saliva. I can see her head is thrown back, and she has a handful of pillow in each fist.
He jerks his eyebrows up once, signaling that we should escalate, synchronize our attack.
