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My cheeks flushed when Press and I alone and naked in each other’s arms flashed in my mind. I respected him when he said he wanted us to get to know each other better before we took another step in our relationship, but another part of me believed we should do what felt natural between us. Not wait because of some preconceived notion or jump into bed for the same reason.
Being with him, sharing kisses made it nearly impossible to tamp down my desire. Which didn’t feel at all “natural.”
Press put his fingertips on my chin and raised my face. “I’m feeling the same things you are, pet. I’ve never experienced the intensity of want, of yearning that I feel when I’m with you.” He cleared his throat. “However, you should know this isn’t new for me. Imagining you in the red bikini you wore poolside the day before the wedding, put me in a position of great potential embarrassment when we stood at the front of the chapel.”
I giggled. “Really?”
He rested his forehead against mine. “Yes, really.”
“I’m sorry to laugh, but you’re always so... I don’t know the right way to put it other than ‘in control.’”
“You’d be surprised,” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling. “When you’re near, it’s a constant struggle to keep how bad I want you in check.”
“Then, why do you, Press?” Unable to resist, I unfastened the top button of his shirt and leaned forward to kiss the hollow of his neck.
When he groaned but tightened his grip on my shoulders rather than push me away, I unfastened another button.
“Luisa…”
“If you truly don’t want this, you need to tell me,” I murmured, releasing the third and fourth buttons and kissing the skin I’d just exposed. “Tell me,” I repeated. “And I’ll stop.”
Rather than say a word, Press took a step back and held out his hand. I put mine in it, then led him to the staircase and up to the room where I first wished he’d get in bed with me rather than sit in a chair and read me a story.
Once there, I continued my plan to get him to finally let go of his steely control.
“Hands at your sides,” I said, pulling his tucked-in shirt from his pants and unfastening his belt. I skimmed his taut abs with my fingers.
“Luisa,” he hissed, clenching the fists he held rigidly at his sides.
How much more would it take, I wondered. When I knelt in front of him and began to lower the zipper of his trousers, I had my answer. Press roared out of his self-imposed bonds, lifting me not just to my feet, but into his arms. He carried me over to the bed. “I’ll ask you the same, my darling. Are you certain this is what you want?”
“Want and need, Press.” I watched as he tore his shirt from his body. “Let me see the rest of you first,” I said, shaking my head when he reached out to remove my sweater. Never before had I been so bold. The truth was I didn’t have a lot of experience with sex. I wasn’t a virgin, but I couldn’t say I’d ever had an orgasm. When Press dropped his trousers, freeing his rigid cock, I felt on the edge of my first.
I reached out and skimmed my fingers over it like I had his abs, and Press grabbed my wrist. “Let me,” I demanded.
He hissed a second time when I wrapped my hand around him. “Like this, pet,” he said through gritted teeth, putting his hand on top of mine and tightening my grip. I loved the feel of him, hard but velvety soft, so long and thick. When I leaned forward and touched him with the tip of my tongue, Press pulled away from me.
“I cannot wait another moment to be inside you, Luisa.” His voice changed to a tone I’d never heard before from him—low and guttural. I pulled my sweater over my head and reached around to unfasten my bra. At the same time, Press lowered the zipper on my jeans and pulled them from my body.
It felt as though time stood still after the frantic pace with which we’d removed each other’s clothes. Press stood where he was, barely moving, as he ran his gaze up and down my body.
“You are breathtaking,” he murmured. “So beautiful, so exquisite.”
“Press, please,” I said, holding my hand out to him.
29
PRESS
I’d done more than let go; my passion, my desire, my want for Luisa left me feeling unhinged. I was a man possessed in his absolute need to have the woman I loved. The yearning I felt had been building for weeks, perhaps not from when I first laid eyes on her, but definitely from the first time I realized the complete trust and faith she put in me.
Had it been my only recourse, I would’ve accepted friendship alone from the woman who lay naked on my bed, her body visibly straining for my touch. Instead, I was about to make her mine. Forever. I couldn’t accept anything less from her.
I settled my body between her spread legs, holding myself above her with both arms. I leaned in and pressed a kiss to one of her stiff nipples. When I sucked it into my mouth, the sensual sounds she made sent a bolt of lust straight through me.
After showering the same attention on her other breast, I slowly kissed my way down the center of her body, intermittently scattering kisses on her perfect porcelain skin like I’d longed to do every time I suffered through seeing her in that red bikini.
I shifted, resting my hands on the crease at the top of her thighs. I spread her folds open and softly blew on the bundle of nerves—the most sensitive place on her body—and watched as she shuddered and writhed.
