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I stroked his chin. “Let’s move on to something else.”
He nodded, and then pointed his gaze to the door. Standing, he walked towards it and shut it.
I watched him as he turned and made his way towards me again. Planting his hands outside my hips, he bent down. His lips were close, the heat of them radiating on mine.
“Let’s move on to something else then.” He picked up his arm and flicked his wrist to check the time on his G-Shock. “We only have a few hours together… alone. Let’s make them count.”
My teeth grazed my bottom lip. “Okay.”
Pressing in, Drake climbed above me, gripping my hip with one hand and sliding me to the middle of the bed.
We’d never been alone in a bedroom before. It was scary to think about, but only because we could do whatever we wanted and not get interrupted.
He hovered above me, his hands now planted outside my head. His head dipped, and he focused on my mouth with flared nostrils.
Before it could register, his mouth claimed mine. His groin was centered between my legs, and my arms were draped around the back his neck. He shifted up and down, building friction between us, and I held on tight.
I shifted with him, moving my hips forward and backwards, working in sync with his large body.
His breath became rigid then, and his hands slid up the front of my arms so his fingers could entwine with mine.
“Shit, Jenny,” he breathed. “You gotta stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” I asked through a ragged breath.
His lips pressed on the crook of my neck as I rolled my head back.
“You’re making me hard as fuck.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
He lifted his head, but before he could respond, I cupped his face in my hands, devouring those full lips.
He grunted as he gripped me tight around the middle, thrusting between my thighs. I heard him curse beneath his breath when the kiss broke, and then he cupped the back of my neck, dropping one hand.
One of his fingers slipped beneath my bottoms, diving in deep.
My back curved against the bed as he sucked on the skin of my neck. I gripped him tight in my arms, his finger moving in and out of me.
I moaned when he circled my swollen nub. “Feels good?”
“Yes,” I whispered. I moved his hand away, locking lips again. Greedily, I kissed him. I didn’t want this to stop. It needed to keep going.
I was impatient.
I hated waiting.
I was ready—no, hungry for him.
“Wait—Jenny.” He stopped again, focusing on my face. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice was husky.
I nodded, my face blazing with heat. “I want to, Drake.” I watched his eyes. “It’s okay. I swear.”
He watched me carefully as I assured him. He was so unsure about what to do. I could feel him straining in his trunks, ready for this just as much as I was.
And then, finally, he spoke.
“Okay.”
That was all it took.
He yanked my bottoms off, pulled off my cover-up, and then tugged the strings of my top. It was all so quick, as if he’d done this millions of times before.
He sat up, digging in his pocket and pulling out a condom.
I wasn’t sure when he’d put it there—if he’d planned on using it today anyway. It didn’t really matter because I was eager—almost desperate.
He was still hard in his trunks, but he hadn’t gotten rid of them just yet.
Instead he climbed back onto the bed, placing the condom on the nightstand.
Spreading my legs apart, his palms running up the inside of my thighs and then around to my hips, he lifted my bottom half up in the air, gripping me tight in his hands. I gasped as his eyes bolted on mine.
“Gotta make sure you’re soft and wet for me,” he growled, and then his mouth sealed tight on my sacred area.
He grunted as his tongue drove deep, in and out, my hips moving with him.
“Oh. My. God!” I couldn’t believe this was happening. He was eating me.
All of those times I talked about it with Kylie, about how it might feel weird or wrong or strange that some guy could put his mouth so close to such a personal area of my body, and it was happening.
Right in my bedroom.
And it wasn’t bad at all. It was really, really good.
He cupped my ass in his hands, holding tight.
If he were a prisoner on death row, I was his final meal. He was relentless as he devoured me whole, making no excuse for any leftovers.
He ate tenderly. It wasn’t rough or rushed. The strokes of his tongue were perfect, and it felt so amazing.
My eyes rolled back a couple of times. I tried looking at him, but I just couldn’t.
With each swirl and skim of his tongue, I bucked, and he groaned with delight, pleased by the response my body gave him.
