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The heat of his stare and gentle flicking of his thumb turn my nipples to hard points.
“Come here.” He slides his hands to my hips.
“I’m already in your lap.”
“I know.” He pats his chest. “Put your back against me.”
It takes a few seconds of careful choreography to arrange myself the way he wants. He lifts each of my legs, draping them over his until I’m spread wide and leaning against him. The crisp hair of his legs tickles the backs of my thighs. Beard stubble grazes my cheek as he drops a kiss on my shoulder.
“I like you this way. Nice and open for me,” he says against my ear. His deep voice holds a satisfied note, reminding me how I made him lose control less than five minutes ago. I still taste him on my tongue. I lick my lips and wriggle against him.
“Easy,” he warns, gripping my hips to stop my movements. Completely in control now.
I reach one arm behind my head, ruffling my fingers through his hair, then tip my head back and brush my lips against his cheek.
He slides his hands over my ribcage and cups my breasts. God, his big, rough hands feel so good on my skin. He teases my nipples to achingly hard points, leaving me squirming.
“Open.” He taps two fingers against my bottom lip and I eagerly suck them inside, swirling my tongue against them. “Good girl,” he groans, and slowly slips them out.
I hook my fingers in the waistband of my underwear. Damn unsexy shorts I wore because I had no idea I’d end up here tonight. “Do you want these off?” I ask.
“Not yet.” He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away. “Hands up.”
Stretching my arms over my head, I arch my back and hook my fingers over the wooden slats of the chair. “Better?”
“Much.” He slides his hand down my stomach, straight between my legs. I gasp the second his fingertips graze my center. “God, I love looking at you,” he murmurs against my hair.
My entire body heats, utterly mesmerized by him. In his arms, I’m not self-conscious. No worries about my scars, freckles, tummy chub, or anything else I’d normally obsess over. How can I when he handles me with such care and stares at me like I’m fine art.
He strokes right over my clit in slow, soothing circles. His rough fingers dragging over the smooth satin still separating us. God that feels so good. I writhe in his lap and angle my hips up, seeking more. He increases the pressure but still doesn’t stroke hard or fast enough to give me the release I’m desperately in need of.
“Dex, please,” I whine.
His mouth’s at my neck, kissing and licking. “You need more?” he asks against my ear.
“God, yes. Please.”
I curl one of my arms around his and tip my head back to watch his face. So intent. Focused on sliding his fingers along the seam of my lips, the damp material clinging to my skin.
“I didn’t tease you like this,” I point out.
“Shh. Let me touch you the way I want.” He squeezes my nipple, the sensation shooting straight to my core, distracting me from his other hand slipping under my panties.
“Oh. Yes, yes.” I wiggle and try to spread my legs even farther apart.
He presses two fingers inside me, and I gasp with excitement. The heel of his hand grinds against my clit as he strokes in and out. “Is that what you needed?” he rasps.
“Yes.” I rock my hips in time as he presses deeper inside. Dear God, I’ve never been in such a frenzy to come in my life. Dex takes his time working me expertly. Like I’m an engine he’s fine-tuning to run exactly the way he wants. Slowly, his touch increases from gentle to demanding.
“Come for me, little firecracker,” he urges. “The first of many, many times tonight.”
My mind can’t handle the promise of more orgasms. I’m too focused on finding this one.
“You’re so fucking wet, I love it,” he rasps, sliding his fingers out and dragging my wetness to my clit, rubbing and pressing in all the right spots.
“Dex,” I gasp, my nails digging into his arm.
“I’ve got you.” He slips two fingers inside me again.
The thread of tension spinning tighter and tighter finally snaps.
I writhe and moan, my body jerking against his hand until I’m wrung out and breathless. Overwhelming relief spreads through me.
He nuzzles his cheek against mine and kisses my neck. “How long has it been?”
“What?” I blink and twist my head to see his face, even though I think I know exactly what he’s asking.
He strokes a possessive hand over me again. My body jerks when he brushes against my oversensitive clit. “When was the last time you came?”
My face flames even hotter but I answer honestly. “With you. Before…” My voice trails off, but he seems to understand.
