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“I love your panties,” he groans, surprising me.
I have no idea which pair I put on. When I glance down, I realize I chose a thong because, you know, leggings don’t look good with panty lines. It’s a black cotton one from a set I used to have that has every day of the week on it. These ones say Sunday, but it’s not Sunday. At least, I don’t think it’s Sunday. Or maybe it is Sunday. No, no, it’s not Sunday. The U and the Y are missing, so they actually say SNDA.
“Sin-day,” Atlas says, rolling the syllables off his tongue. “I like it.”
He slowly gets on his knees in front of me, his massive shoulders urging my legs open so he can fit there, all of him. Then, he slowly reaches out and runs a finger over the center of my panties, and I shudder so hard that I nearly fling myself off the counter. With a smirk, he leans in and trails kisses from my knee all the way up to my inner thigh.
“Can I taste you here? On this sin-day?”
“Is today sin-day?”
“Today can be anything you want. Tell me where you want me to kiss you, and I’ll do it happily, even if it’s your big toe or behind your knee.”
He kisses that sweet crease where my leg meets my…well, not my leg, and I nearly fall off the counter. He expects me to tell him that I want him to…to kiss my va-jay? Oh, but that’s deliciously dirty. I have no experience at all with this kind of thing, but I’m in. I’m down. Even if I’m bad at it. Even if I embarrass myself by enjoying this way too much and not drawing it out to make it last, I’m in. I’m so in that I’m just about freaking turning inside out in my eagerness.
I’ve waited twenty-one years to see what all the fuss is about. I was the wallflower, the invisible one, the bookish nerd in high school and all through college. I was the one who studied instead of going out or going to parties. I was the girl no one asked out because no one would think to ask out a shadow. I made sure I was never seen. That I never really participated. I was too busy studying, reading, and not doing all the things I thought were so dumb that I ended up missing out on all the parts that maybe weren’t so dumb.
Correction. I guess they would have been dumb because they would never have been with the right person. I wasn’t ready because I was saving this moment, this experience, for someone who could make my heart pulse, my limbs tremble like an earthquake, and that part of me that isn’t entirely physical—the spirit or the soul or the wild energy inside me—sing.
“Should we play the hot and cold game?” Atlas asks wickedly when I’m silent for way too long. He moves his face, brushing kisses over the edge of my panties. “Warm or cold?”
“Warm,” I gasp.
He moves an inch down my leg. “How about now?”
“Also warm.” My heart is going to tear out of my chest as it’s beating so hard and fast.
Then, he brushes his fingers over my kneecap. “How about here?”
“So hot,” I rasp.
He laughs. “I don’t think this is working unless you actually want me to suck on your toes. I’m not opposed, just so you know. It’s not exactly my thing, but if it’s yours, I’d be happy to accommodate.”
“No! I don’t need you to suck on my toes. It’s just…everywhere you touch and kiss me feels so good.”
His eyes get even darker, a furious storm lashing in their depths. “Would you like it if I tore your panties in half and sucked on your clit?”
My legs start quaking, bouncing up and down against the counter as the rest of me nearly falls off because I very nearly blackout at hearing him say those things. I’m struck dumb, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth like it’s been glued there, so I just close my eyes and nod.
He runs his hand up my leg, his knuckles somehow so erotic that my entire body vibrates. When he brushes his finger over my center, even above the cotton covering me there, I can’t stop the whimper that fills up the kitchen.
I don’t need him to tear my underwear off, mostly because they’re cotton and built strong, and I think it would freaking hurt, so I help him by shifting and pulling them away myself. He drags them down my legs the rest of the way, and then I’m bared to him. Completely. Bared.
I might not have a lot—okay, any—of experience doing this, but I do keep up with the fashion trends, and I think it’s, um, well, it’s easier when you’re shaving your legs to just take it all off.
