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I pull her down, kiss her breathless. Hungry tongues. Nipping teeth. Moans shared as our tongues slide. “My turn,” I murmur as I flip us around.
I fit myself between her thighs and place her hands above her head. “Don’t move.”
“That’s my line.”
“I’m too turned on to think of fresh material.”
Smiling, she complies, arching her back slightly. I mentally addseductressto the list of things I fucking love about Jolene. I lift the edge of her top, unhurried, enjoying the slow reveal, like the rise of the sun over land, one gorgeous landmark exposed at a time—the gentle slope of her belly, the slight jut of her ribs, her lush breasts that pull a gusty breath from my lungs.
I toss her shirt over with mine, smiling at the goose bumps spreading over her skin.
“Can I move now?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I’ve waited a lifetime for this. Give a guy some time.”
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, squirming a little. Unsure where to start, I place the back of my hand against the side of her breast, follow the contour. Barely brush my knuckles over her pert nipple. Her breath trembles.
“Are your nipples sensitive?” I ask. “Do you like attention there?”
“Yeah, but not too rough.”
I use my thumb and forefinger this time, give her friction, but not too much. “Good?”
Her answering nod is jerky. Her arms are still above her head, but they’re flexed, her hands squeezed in small fists. Her body is as on the brink as mine, and I fucking love it.
With my hips between her spread thighs, I rock forward, small thrusts, making sure I hit her clit through her sleep shorts. Her moan is a gift. I grin, still exploring her breasts, using my tongue this time. Sucking on her lightly, studying her every reaction—which moves make her arch more, breathe harder, squirm under me.
I spread my palms on her rib cage. “Sorry my hands are so rough. They feel brutish on your soft skin.”
“I love it,” she whispers.
“Yeah?”
She nods, and I lovethis. Open exploration. My unquenched need to please Jolene. Letting her guide me, show me, teach me. I drag my callused palms down. Her hips buck up, but I pause. Her sleep shorts have lowered over her left hip, revealing discoloration.
I trace the darker shapes of color. “What’s this from?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Just a birthmark. Kind of ugly. I’ve always hated it.”
“Jolene Daniels.” I move down her body, hooking her shorts as I go. “Your whole body could be covered in birthmarks, and I wouldn’t be any less attracted to you. The only thing about you that can’t change is your inside.”
“You keep stealing my lines,” she says on a happy sigh.
“Again, all my blood is rushing south. Too turned on to think.”
I wink at her and fling her shorts off the bed, andhell. Those tight, dark curls. Her fucking glorious body. I shift backward, press my palms to her thighs, and spread them apart to look my fill. “Goddamn, you’re gorgeous.”
“Um,” she says softly.
Heart stuttering, I flick my eyes to hers. “Is this not okay?”
“I don’t know. I feel weirdly exposed. I think I need to move my hands. Touch you.”
I travel up her body, adjust us so we’re both on our sides. She digs her fingers into my back, her lips plump and parted.
My rough hands don’t abate. I massage her ass, her thighs, lick a path up her ear until she shudders. “This better?”
“Yeah. But I need you naked.” Her thumbs are already in the waistband of my briefs, dragging them down. I lift my hips, but she can’t reach too far, and the material bunches under my ass.
