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How had I not noticed?
I hadn’t been fucking looking, or I knew I’d be toast. Thanks to the dim light, I couldn’t make out much, but her nipples were a rich pink and pebbled so tightly they were begging for relief. Just like my goddamn dream. I dipped my head and drew one into my mouth. Her breathing was ragged, and she hugged my head to her, a silent plea.
How was this my reality right now?
“I don’t usually wear underwear to bed either.”
“Jesus.” I licked across her nipple and looked up at her. “Show me.”
Her chest rose and fell, her full, round breasts right in front of my face. Perfect. All of her was perfection, and if lightning struck me from the dark sky, I’d die a happy man.
She flicked her tongue out to run along her bottom lip. I hooked a hand around the back of her neck and caught her mouth again. That tongue was mine.
She made the sexiest mewl and squirmed against me. She only broke away to say, “See for yourself.”
Fuck, yes.
She was sitting, and I was impatient. I put my hands on her thighs, touching her as thoroughly as I wanted to the day she got scratched, and brushed upward, going higher and sweeping under the hem of her shorts. They were loose and easy to tug to the side.
I wished the sun was high overhead so I could get a full view of her glistening pussy. What I did see amplified the desire pumping through my veins and pounding in my dick. My damn mouth watered.
“You’re bare, Tova.” I didn’t care either way. She could be as natural as possible, and I’d still be on my knees, ready to sate myself on her. But I liked the unobstructed sight of how fucking wet she was.
“You haven’t seen the G-string I wear to perform. It doesn’t cover much.”
I lifted my gaze to hers. “Do you still have it?”
She nodded. Her hands had left my hair when I was sneaking a peek, and she gripped the armrests. “Not with me, though.”
“And the tassels?” The question came out guttural. I was obsessed with the idea of her tassels.
She nodded again. Part of her shirt had fallen over one breast, but her other nipple held the rest at bay. Like my own personal peep show.
My little striptease.
I grunted and pushed her legs wider. The shorts stretched to hide the perfect view from me, but I shoved them to one side.
“I need to taste you.”
Her needy “yes” changed me. I no longer thought, analyzed, or planned. I took.
I descended, my punishing grip keeping the aggravating material out of my way. I couldn’t bother with the time to take them off. Licking through her, her salty sweetness coated my tongue. My lust ratcheted impossibly higher. “Goddamn, you taste like heaven.”
I tongued her clit, and she bucked into me. “Cody,” she hissed. “Just like that.”
“Tell me how you play with yourself.” I circled her swollen clit one more time. “When you’re thinking about me.”
She rolled her hips again, demanding more. I let her have it.
A mix of a whimper and a moan left her. “It doesn’t take much.” I hummed against her and was rewarded with a flood of heat. She was close already. “Your voice is enough to get me off by itself.” Another hum. “God, yes.”
Need clawed at my chest. I only paused long enough to say, “Keep going.”
She anchored her feet on the edge of the chair, giving me as much access as possible. “I think about how well you danced, and I think you must be dynamite in bed.”
My chuckle vibrated into her, and she shivered. “I like to think so.”
“Quit talking.” Her fingers were twisting in my hair again.
