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“I don’t always do anything, city girl,” he teased. He admired her small, boyish breasts in profile, the way the ripe, round areolas covered half of them and the nipples stood at attention, hard enough to cut diamonds. “This is my first time seeing some sweet young thing in the light of day, remember?”
“Lucky me,” she murmured, standing to face him and even taller than usual in her sexy heels. Andonlyher sexy heels. He liked that, his lover naked and wet in just her heels, even if he did have to glance slightly up to peer into her wicked, sexy green eyes.
Shane ran his eyes over every inch of her body, skin flushed with perspiration and every inch of her standing at rapt, eager attention. “Naw, girl.” He clutched her throat gently, if only to feel her pounding pulse and hear the gasp of surprise from somewhere deep, secret and hidden inside. “I’m the luckiest son of bitch on this campus right now.”
Her eyes begged his for confirmation, smiling when she got it in the unblinking honesty and raw, naked desire that gazed back at her. His hand drifted away from her throat, the other joining it to cup and palm both tender, boyish breasts the way he’d been aching to do the minute he saw them, pressed and tender against her mustard-yellow sweater the day before.
Unlike her ripe derriere, his palms were more than enough to cover and blanket her upturned breasts, doing so eagerly, all while gliding those pebbly nipples between his greedy fingers, twirling and tweaking as if picking a lock. Her knees buckled slightly, a trembling hand reaching out to steady herself on the kitchen counter as he continued to tease and tempt and savor each breast in turn, so ripe and yielding to his eager touch.
“Is this how you want it?” she purred, leaning closer to whisper in his ear, her breath raw and nagged against his cheek. “Me standing like this?”
He turned his head slightly, covering her lips with his own as they kissed for the first time, soft and wet and sloppy and silken against one another’s desperate, eager mouths.
“I want youjustlike this,” he explained. His right hand drifted from her breast to trickle down her body until it slid across the silken landing strip of carefully tended black pubes that crested her swollen clit like a sidewalk abruptly coming to an end in the middle of a grassy wet field. “I want you here, in the sunlight, so I can see every inch of you when you come. I want you standing until you’ve come so many times you can’t stand anymore. And then I’ll make you come one last time, until I have to carry you to the couch and lay you down so I can study every inch of that body until you pass out from my touch.”
She stammered. She swallowed. She blinked. Twice. And then she muttered, gaily, happily, almost shyly, “Oh. Oh, my.”
He nibbled her lower lip in reply, admiring the way she enjoyed a little pain with her pleasure and watching her face carefully, as at last, two expert fingers slid lovingly across her throbbing clit. She gasped, eyes widening, mouth parting, as the same fingers danced away to trace every crease and wrinkle of her slippery sex.
Her moan was raw and primal, pure lust, deep and unrecognizable as she gently spread her legs to give him more access to her yielding sex, her puffy labia clinging to his fingers as if they were as desperate for his touch as the rest of her trembling, naked body.
“Yes, Jesus,” she murmured. He gently guided her a mere step or two back until her shoulders rested against the closed door. “God, it’s never felt this good.”
Shane’s fingertips danced along the ridges of her lust, circling back until they applied the slightest hint of pressure against her swollen bud. It responded with a seismic tremor, as he knew it would, throbbing and warm against his pressing fingertips as they applied just enough pressure to tease, but not quite enough to please. Not. Quite. Yet.
When she grunted, they quickly danced away, off for another leisurely stroll around, and then gently inside her yielding sex. Then another press, another tease, another slither and squeeze, until Tatum panted and moaned and begged him to stop.
“No, baby, that feels too good. I don’t want it to end.”
“It doesn’t have to,” he insisted, unrelenting in his gradual but eventual drive toward her ultimate and inevitable satisfaction. This wasn’t aniffor her, this was awhen. And for once, he was utterly, purely, and eagerly in control. “We’ve got all night here alone, just you and me. And I don’t plan on sleeping a wink, do you?”
“I may not have a choice if you keep doing that down there, you big, sexy jerk!” She pretended to slap his shoulder but clung to him instead, first one hand, then the next, digging into his biceps on either side of him as if struggling to stay afloat in a sea of unquenchable desire.
“Let yourself have this,” he cooed and murmured between peppering her gasping lips with swollen kisses that only helped to rob Tatum of the last shreds of her resolve, to say nothing of her quickening breath. “You’ve waited so long for release, I’ll give you as much as you want, as long as you can take it, if you’ll only let me.”
“I want to, baby,” she murmured breathlessly, “but it feels so good, I don’t want it to stop…”
He chuckled against her throat, bearing down as she seized and bucked with the prelude to her building lust. Shane knew that feeling, knew it all too well, and welcomed it with open arms. Or, at the very least, two very hot, wet, and sticky fingers!
“That’s right, baby, come for me…” He slithered and slid until the sound of his fingertips, damp and sticky, rivaled her panting grunts and guttural moans. He felt her resolve weaken with every press against her throbbing clit, every rasp and pull just inside of her weeping volcanic heat. He used every drop of desire clinging to her glistening labia to slather her with affection, heat, and pressure until, mouth gasping against his own, body quaking beneath his touch, Tatum gasped, bucked, and came—came at last—in a gush of heat and desire.
The door behind her rocked with the seismic waves of her orgasm. Make that her first orgasm, shuddering as if someone was trying to get in. But it was only Tatum’s pent-up desire, aching to burst out. It did, and then some, heat bathing his patient fingers as they waited for the waves of desire to crash and then fizzle before dancing, ever so lightly, back across the scene of the crime yet again.
Tatum bucked anew, shivering with the aftershocks that crested over the new waves of enticement, until they blended and crashed one against the other, making her cries indistinguishable from her gasps, her wails no different than her moans of pure, animal pleasure.
When at last she’d had enough, sweating from every pore, black hair sticking to her trembling shoulders, nipples taut enough to burst, and her swollen sex leaking over his patiently wriggling fingers, she clamped her thighs shut tight and met his eyes with determination he’d yet to see in her thus far. “No. More!”
They chuckled, throatily, until their lips found each other and silenced the laughter with murmurs and gratitude and so much more.
Chapter Thirteen
Tatum
“Can I ask a favor?” Tatum’s voice, still thick with lust, murmured against Shane’s blushing ear as she dragged him to the couch and tossed him onto the middle cushion of the battered leather beast, bending over to tug at the hem of his t-shirt without preamble or foreplay.
“For you, girl?” Shane was huffing, too, cheeks high with color and dimples galore as his anticipation merged with her still-aching desire. “Anything.”
She tugged at his shirt, making quick work of the damp grey tee and tossing it God knows where, a lamp somewhere on a side table, the wet material landing with a thump and a shudder. She kissed him in reply, hot and wet and thick, just the way he’d made her feel, her back against the front door, standing on wobbly legs and squealing helplessly as he brought her to climax over and over again. With a sharp little nibble on his bottom lip, she winked and slid to her knees on the soft shag rug of his student dorm room floor.
