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“I’m sure, Leo,” I say and mean it. “I’m all yours tonight.”
“Thank fuck,” he hisses in relief and placing his hands on my hips, pulls me against him in one swift move. His mouth on mine is hot, wet, and ravenous. The feral groans vibrating in his throat go to my head quicker than the shot of whiskey.
I push my hands beneath the hem of his shirt, feeling warm skin and the hardness of the muscles beneath it. Wanting to feel all of him, I’m tempted to tear the material down the middle and send the buttons flying.
He sinks his teeth into my bottom lip, not trying to be gentle. He’d made no promises about being a gentleman after gettingmy consent, and that was fine by me because I have no intention of being a lady. I hurry open the buttons of his shirt and have a vague sense of Leo stepping us backwards. We bump into a wall and I laugh but the sound slips to a moan when he pushes the wide neck of my dress off my shoulders and yanks it down to my waist.
Leo breaks the kiss to streak those smoky grey eyes over me. “Jesus,” he groans. “You don’t wear bras.”
“Too restrictive,” I explain, my breath hitching.
“You don’t hear me complaining.” Leo slides his hands and mouth all over my breasts, sucking on me deeply until my knees are weak and my head is spinning in a daze of flashing lights. I knew he would do this to me again, bring me to that staggering edge of insanity.
The urge to take and be taken is huge, a bubble about to burst. Murmuring incoherently, I drag off his shirt and it falls to the floor in a black crumple. I knead his flesh that seems to burn under my fingers, digging into the unyielding slabs of honed muscle and washboard abs that converge into a pelvic V. The body of a man who was once an athlete and who still trains vigorously, and no doubt tracks his BMI. I trail my fingers down the ridges to the waistband of his jeans.
“Uh-uh.” He grabs my wrists, lifting my hands up and putting them around his neck. “I want you in my bed.”
“Take me there. Take me!”
“So impatient.” The amused arousal in his voice is muffled by his mouth on my neck.
When we make it to his room, it’s dark; the sun has long gone and the moon’s a mystery. We move in the shadows, tumbling onto the mattress. I land on my bum, falling to my back with Leo atop me. His mouth, restless and impatient, races over my lips and down my throat, finding my breasts again. I arch into him with sweeping, mindless desire.
Leo divests me of my dress, and climbs back up my body, rimming my navel with the tip of his tongue, sliding it over the pink diamond piercing.
“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs. “Spread those gorgeous legs for me. I’m dying to eat you up.”
Yes, please!I widen my bent legs, and he presses soft kisses to my inner thigh, painting a moist path to my knee, the inside of my calf, my ankle, and back up to the apex of my thighs, skipping my aching core as he wickedly teases my other leg. Then his tongue slides along the arch of my foot with enough pressure not to tickle but to stimulate all those erotic zones that many people don’t know are there. It’s like oral foot sex and Leo is a master at it. By the time he takes my toes into his mouth, sucking them one by one, I’m squirming and fisting the sheets.
“Leo,” I sob when he kisses his way back up my legs, and buries his face in my panty-covered cleft. “You smell good everywhere. Like peaches.” He licks me through the pink lace, then beneath it.
My breaths are quick and laboured, punctuated by gasps and thready moans. I plunge my hands into his hair, revelling in the velvety tip of his tongue, goading and coaxing my pleasure, all while withholding the real thing.
“Please,” I beg shamelessly.
He whisks away my panties, dragging them down my legs and off my feet. “I need to see you.” His heat and touch leave me. He turns on the overhead light and adjusts the brightness with what I assume is a dimmer switch for the glare is replaced by a pale golden white hush. Leo stands at the foot of the bed, softly illuminated, looking unabashedly at me sprawled out naked.
I experienced the typical teen angst as my boobs developed, my hips widened, and my belly and bottom expanded. But even as my dance teachers criticized the weight gain, I never disliked my body. I disliked those who told me it wasn’t good enough.
That’s not to say I don’t ever have moments of insecurity. I do. But not often, and definitely not now with the way Leo’s eyes are gobbling me up.
He shucks off his jeans and underwear, and oh yeah! He’s long and thick, with a slight curve to the right.
“I must be a very good girl to be getting a gift of all this.”
Leo takes himself in his hand, stroking, making my mouth water. “I don’t want you to be good. Slide open those pretty pussy lips and let me see you all wet and glistening before I bury my tongue and cock inside of you.”
His raunchy talk arousing me more than I’ve ever been, I watch his fist move slowly back and forth around the girth of his erection. Doing as he instructed, I slide my labia apart and feel the slickness of my desire revealed to him.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Have you ever touched yourself thinking about me?”
“Yes,” I admit, almost too breathless to answer.
“When?”
“The first night we met.”
“Show me.”
