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She didn’t take offense to his tone. If he was half as hungry for her touch as she was for his, then she got it. She ran her fingers over the tattoo, trying to see everything at once. But there wasn’t enough light and there was so much going on. She could make out matching roses on either side of his chest. And there was a banner that said,In Memory.
She pushed his shirt back further, trying to take it all in. He placed his arms along the back of the sofa. As though he were giving her permission to touch at will.
Oh, she liked that.
“It goes down your arms?”
“Yep.”
“Must have taken hours and hours.”
“Been adding to it over the years. Some things mean something. Others I just liked.”
Leaning in, she kissed her way from one side to the other, then down to his nipples. His hand came to the back of her head, holding her there, guiding her.
His fingers brushed over the back of her neck and she sucked in a breath.
Oh, she liked that.
He did it again and she whimpered.
“Someone has a sensitive spot right here.”
She did? She’d never realized. But it felt like it had a direct line to her clit, which was throbbing. She was so wet, her panties were soaked, and he hadn’t done much more than kiss her.
She’d never gotten aroused so easily.
Well, there had been a bit of dirty dancing involved, too.
“That’s it, girl. Suck. Damn, that feels good. Fuck.”
Oh, she liked that she could give him pleasure. He sounded almost breathless as she moved to his other nipple, licking her tongue over it, then sucking.
She started pressing kisses down his stomach. His body was delicious. Tight and muscular and far different from her softer body.
Maybe it was time to take up running or lifting weights.
Urgh, sounded like hard work, though. Still, she was kind of wondering how he could be attracted to her.
“Girl, look at me.”
She raised her gaze at his demand. His voice was filled with control. He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek.
“What do you want?”
What did she want? She’d thought that was obvious. Why was he even asking?
“I want to give you pleasure,” she told him. “To make you feel good.”
His eyes lit up with something. A mix of surprise and hunger, perhaps?
“You want to make me feel good?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And what about you? Do you want to feel good?”
“I will if I’m making you happy,” she replied.
