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He shifted onto his side. My body reared up in response to the sweet invasion of his thick fingers. He pressed me back down with a big palm on the swell of my belly. Fear spiked in my blood, but his mouth claimed mine and soothed me with the seductive lushness of his kiss. What I needed was this comfort, the strength of his body and the force of his desire. It was uncomplicated but demanding. He’d taken me right to the edge of a climax twice already and then brought me back down, only to build it up again as a slow, delicious torture. I bucked my hips, tried to grind on his palm to get the pressure I needed. Frustrated, I reached between us and grabbed his wrist. Indelicately, I gave his arm half-twist and bore down on his hand, encouraged him to shove his fingers in deeper. Taking my cue, he twisted his wrist, opened and closed his fingers, drew a circle on my clit, pressing and rubbing, alternating until I was breathless. I was so close. I looked at him, pleading, and he withdrew his fingers. I whined, that was the only word for the sound of protest I made. He licked his fingers, lewd and filthy, and when he returned to my weeping sex, he stuffed three fingers in me. I arched, cried out at the stretch and pressure. He put his thumb to my clit and finished me, brutal and swift.
I quivered and tried to roll away from him, feeling too bare, too unsure in the aftermath, but he rolled me onto my back insistently, petted my hair and face, kissed my lips. I reach for him, pulled at him, wanting all of him to cover me like a heavy, hot blanket, to crush me under his weight and make me feel alive again. It had been so long. I wished I could communicate that to him with only my eyes, so I didn’t have to say the words, so I wouldn’t have to admit that I hadn't slept with a man since the guy that nearly killed me. To be honest, why would I have wanted to? Until now, I lay trembling on my living room rug, a tear tracking down my cheek with unspoken need knotting inside me. I let my head drop to the rug and caught my breath.
“Sit on my face,” he said gruffly.
I gaped at him. “What?”
“You heard me. I want to eat you out. I want you to smother me with those thighs and that sweet pussy. Let me have a taste of that. You made me hungry for it, all that slickness and that grinding you were doing. It’s enough to make a man insane. Let me do this, Julie. Ride my face. You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe how much I want you.”
His lewd talk both embarrassed and thrilled me. I wriggled beside him, blushing. I shook my head. I didn’t want to do that. I never had before, and it felt too much like surrender, like too much intimacy even for the closeness of what we’d already shared. Without a word, he cradled me against him, letting me hide my face in his shoulder for a minute. All the while, Darren caressed my back, my thigh, my ass. He reached for my leg, grabbing me behind the knee. He wrapped my leg across his hips and with a swift hand between us, unzipped his jeans. I felt his erection break free and bob, broad and strong, from his jeans. The soft skin was fever hot as it brushed my thigh, the shaft curving a little to the left. My sex clenched and quivered in anticipation. I could scent his desire, the salty musk of his arousal in the air. I swallowed hard, trying to pull air into my lungs when my body was practically short-circuiting with want. Unbidden, my nails scraped his chest a little. He grinned. For a somber man who defaulted to a scowl, he had one hell of a smile.
Our eyes met. His rough palm skated up my leg, rocking my pelvis forward to close the distance that remained between us. He tucked me against his hot, hard body. I swallowed, my eyes meeting his. Darren bumped his mouth playfully against mine, letting my lips cling to his. On a soft sigh of satisfaction, I parted my lips. Darren took the invitation and pushed his tongue into my mouth where I took it eagerly, stroking his tongue with mine, tilting my head a little to let him explore the sensitive curves of my mouth. I loved kissing him more than I could have imagined. The way he held me like I was precious, his hands so strong but so careful with me. On the second thrust of his tongue into my mouth, Darren bucked his hips forward, the shock of penetration making my back arch. I bowed backward at the invasion. Although he had readied me, had made me climax with his fingers and left me wet and wanting, his size and the years it had been since I had sex combined to make me tight and tense. My body tried to stretch and shift to take him in, and he hitched my knee up higher over his hip, opening my body up for him. When I gasped as he entered me, I was surprised again because Darren didn’t immediately back away, withdraw, make sure I was fine.
