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His tongue teases my lips, asking them to open rather than demanding. I part them and meet it with my own. This time it’s my turn to moan in desperation.
His lips are so soft and he tastes so good. Like Nathan, mint and coffee. It’s my new favourite flavour. I doubt I’ll ever get enough of it.
I fist one hand in his shirt, keeping him close, and the other winds its way up the back of his neck and into his soft hair. He wraps his arm around my back and pushes his hips upwards as he pulls me tight to him. I’ve never felt anything like it. I ache all over, but mostly I feel empty and having him rub against me this way makes me want to sob at the emptiness below.
He twists himself, moving to his knees without breaking our kiss. Slowly and gently he coaxes my body back onto the pillows, his arm holding me tight around the small of my back.
A raspy breath leaves him when I part my legs and allow him to slide between. This time the entirety of his swelling length presses against me.
Even more of his heat seeps into my body; I’m delirious with it.
A jolt spikes through me, causing me to tense for a second in his hold when I feel his hand slide beneath the top of my dress and grasp my breast. My already tightening nipples solidify in a second. He brushes over it with the tip of his finger, before holding the full swell of my breast once more and massaging slowly with a strong hand.
My head falls back and my eyes close as he continues to grind against me and rub me in the most perfect way. Using this opportunity to get to my exposed neck, he immediately licks a trail from the dip and up to my jaw before claiming my mouth again.
All of my inhibitions vanish. My mind goes blank, my body now nothing but a mess of feelings. Too many to describe, but all of them twisting into one thing. Lust. Pure, never ending, forever burning lust.
I need to feel more of him. I want to feel his skin on mine. My hands frantically start pulling at his jacket and he shifts a few times until I manage to slide it from his arms. When it’s on the pillows to the side of us, he grabs my thighs and bucks his body into mine, pressing my back into the pillows. His lips are again locked on mine.
I scrape my fingernails across his shoulders. His entire body shudders and I feel my back arch as his hardness presses against my swelling clit. He presses himself into me again and again and I press harder in response, as if trying to rub the fabric away, so all that’s left is him and the knickers that separate us. I’m so glad I wore a dress.
I work at the buttons of his shirt, loving the feel of his toned, smooth chest. He’s so defined, so beautiful. After popping the fourth button down, his hand wraps around both of mine. He pulls them up and over my head, pinning them at the wrists.
When his hand releases my wrists a few moments later and descends to my breasts, I reach for the buttons again, but he leans up and off me. Using his hands, he pries open my legs and pushes my dress up so it gathers at my waist. Settling in between my thighs, he claims my mouth again. His hands grab at every inch of flesh they can reach, as if he’s scared I’ll vanish.
I’m probably going to have a few finger sized bruises tomorrow but I really don’t care. He’s not hurting me. It feels too good to be classed as any kind of pain.
“Nathan,” I mutter as he kisses a trail down my neck, his hand gripping the bottom of my dress.
He pulls it up and over my head, throwing it behind him without a thought. I lie on the bed of pillows on my back, my legs bent either side of him.
“I want to see you.” His voice is as breathy as mine. His eyes linger on my breasts, which are hidden behind a lacy black nursing bra. It’s not my favourite one, but at this point in time I don’t care. “All of you.” Fingertips touch the hollow at the base of my throat, then trail down over the swell of my right breast. He lightly circles the nipple through the fabric, watching as it pebbles from his touch, pressing through the fabric like it wants to break free. He moves to the left one and does the same. I throw my head back and groan, his featherlike touches doing more to me than they should.
