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“Do you always wear gray pants, or do you keep them specially for me?”
“They are my everyday pants.”
“Shame. The thought that you might keep certain underwear just for me is kinda hot. Even if they are the least hot knickers ever.”
I peel my hands off my face and look down at him. He is grinning. He leans forward and plants kisses on the gray cotton, blowing slightly through the thin material. Heat blossoms over my mound, spreading right across my pelvis. Tongues of fire begin to unfurl deep in my core.
“To be honest,” he says, punctuating the words with his tiny, hot breaths. “I don’t intend that you’ll be wearing them for much longer.”
He slides his hands under the thin elastic of my knickers and with one brisk motion, removes them along with my jeans. I am naked, exposed to his gaze. And to his hot mouth.
“Perfect,” he smiles.
His teeth graze the tender flesh of my inner thigh.
I shiver.
He stops. “Don’t you like it?”
“No, I…it isn’t that. I just…I don’t know.”
“Have you never…?”
My cheeks burn.
“No.”
“Well, that’s an F in anatomy for the good doctor.”
“He was a heart specialist.”
“Well, you know what they say, the way to a woman’s heart is through…” “Bollocks.”
“Bollocks? What kind of medical education are our universities dispensing? No, Nurse Sera,” he says with mock severity. “It is not through bollocks.”
“No,” I groan. “You are talking bollocks. No one has ever said that about women.”
He squeezes his thumbs against my thighs.
“Maybe we just haven’t been trying hard enough,” he says, his blue eyes dancing. “Ali.”
“What?”
“Stop talking.”
He grins and bows his head, keeping his eyes locked on mine as his fingers part my folds, opening me, exposing my most delicate flesh to his mouth. I’m transfixed by the heat in his blue eyes as his tongue sweeps circles round my clit, teasing the sensitive skin with gentle flicks that never quite hit my most delicate spot.
Not only does he want to make me come, he wants to watch me do it.
I’m sinking, lost in the swell of pleasure that is rising from my core. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I’ve lived a very quiet, quite sheltered life, giving most of my energy to my work. Sex has never played a huge part, being more of a quick-as-you-can-and-with-the-lights-off kind of thing.
I’ve never felt more connected. I’ve never felt more turned on. I’ve never felt more alive.
He eases two fingers deep into my tunnel and my back arches from the rug, pushing my mound against his face. I don’t know what he is doing in there but the sensations that it is sending flooding through my body are delicious. Tremors shudder through my thighs and I pull them tight against his shoulders, trying, but failing, to ease the juddering. There’s no stopping this. My body is his. I am his. He knows it. I know it. I want it. I need it.
He brings his mouth down on my clit and with the lightest of brushes of his tongue sends me plunging into the deepest, hardest, longest orgasm I have ever had in my life. Lights explode across my vision, but I fight to keep my eyes open. I want to see him. I want to see him watching me.
His eyes never leave mine.
