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She giggled. “Sure.”
I stamped a kiss on her laughing mouth. “Okay,” I said, grinning. “Shall I resume, then?”
Instead of answering, she leaned forward, bringing her soft lips to mine and grinding up against me. I groaned, responding in kind, arching into her and making her back meet the pantry shelves once again. She whimpered. I kissed her neck, feeling her pulse skyrocketing under my lips. I swirled my tongue around the spot, hearing her breathing speed up and reveling in the sound.
I pulled her closer, pinning her between the pantry and my body. She bunched my T-shirt in her fists, and I gently squeezed two handfuls of her ass. I could feel her nipples harden against my chest, and I took that as my cue to release them from their barrier.
I leaned back and started to unbutton her blouse. It was silky and light pink with black and white polka dots. And it was wiped from my mind as soon as it slid to the floor because underneath…well, underneath, Ciara was wearing a nude-colored, lacy bra.
It surprised me because it contrasted so heavily with Ciara’s buttoned-up, lackluster fashion sense. Even though she had pulled out all the stops on Mack and John’s birthday, I hadn’t seen anything like it since.
My surprise must have shown on my face because when I looked up, she blushed. “This is the only good bra I have,” she said. “And I didn’t want to assume anything, but after last night…”
“You wanted to be prepared.”
“Yeah.” She looked away. “I know that’s presumptuous…”
I cupped her chin, waiting until she made eye contact again. “Presumptuous or not, it doesn’t matter,” I murmured. “Either way, you won’t be wearing it for long.”
She took in a sharp breath, her pupils swallowing her irises and darkening her eyes. I resumed my mission, kissing her collarbone, her shoulder, any part of her soft skin that I could touch. When I reached her nipples, I covered my mouth over the thin, intricate material of her bra, swirling my tongue around the tip. Ciara squirmed, and her grip on my shirt tightened.
“That feels amazing,” she breathed. “God, do it again.”
“My pleasure.”
I repeated the action on her other nipple, reaching around and unhooking her bra in the process. When I slipped the straps off her shoulders and over her arms, I threw it to the floor.
I brought my lips to her neck again, working my way back up until we were mouth-to-mouth. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” I murmured. “Do you want me to take you in the closet, my mouth over your pussy as you scream my name? Or do you want me to lay you out on my bed, where you can hold onto the headboard as I slide into you over and over again?”
She whimpered, arching against me.
“Or maybe you want me to take you in the shower,” I mused in a low voice, cupping the back of her neck. “We could let the water run down your body as I prop one of your legs on my shoulder and suck on that pretty pussy of yours and make your legs shake.”
“Nathan,” she panted. “Please.”
“Please what? You gotta let me know what you want.”
“All of those things.” She groaned as I kissed the spot below her ear. “Anything. You decide.”
“Uh-uh, pretty girl.” I tsked. “This is all about your pleasure. Tell me what you want.”
“I want…I want…”
I hiked her legs higher on my body, fitting my lips to the side of her neck. “Tell me, Cinderelly.”
“The bed. I always imagined my first time with my husband in bed.”
I paused, feeling a trickle of apprehension. The way she said that—breathless, almost dreamy—made me wonder if she was a virgin and if I was ruining this woman’s life by wanting to rut into her like some possessed, mindless, lust-crazed degenerate.
“Did I say something wrong?” she asked.
“No,” I assured her, resting my forehead against her collarbone. “Not at all. I’m slowing myself down. I just realized I never asked…and there’s no delicate way to ask now, but…are you a virgin?”
“Oh! No, not in the slightest,” she said, laughing a little. I looked up at her, squinting in my disbelief. She smiled. “I promise.”
“Okay, because the way you said that you wanted to have sex on a bed made me feel like…”
Though she still smiled, it was a smaller, dimmer one that almost didn’t reach her eyes. She shrugged. “Avid romance consumer,” she said, pointing to herself.
