Chapter 14 Tori
Chapter Fourteen
Tori
Now, where were we?
Kincaid’s voice alone was enough to send a hot shiver down my spine. But with him standing here in my bedroom, every inch of his muscular body close was the equivalent of human catnip.
He took a step closer, and I reflexively stepped back, mostly because the force of his presence was so intense. My hips bumped into the bed. He leaned forward, resting his hands on either side of me, caging me between his arms.
“Now, I want you to forget everything except how good you feel,” he murmured, his voice rumbly and gruff, sizzling over my nerves. “Don’t hesitate to tell me what you want, to tell me what you like.”
My belly did a little swoop, and I all but melted right there. Sex had been “meh” for the most part for me. Okay was the best I could offer for my past experiences, nothing great, nothing to write home about.
Usually, the beginning felt better and then, well, it was like the womp-womp-womp sound in a movie when something failed to live up to expectations, or when a scene ended in benign disappointment.
I didn’t even know how to say what I wanted because, well, that wasn’t something that had ever worked out.
All I could manage to do was nod. Kincaid straightened again, lifting a hand and hooking his finger over at the V at the top of my blouse. I could feel the brush of his knuckle against my skin, the subtle touch like the lick of a flame.
“Let’s get this out of the way,” he murmured.
In that moment, I decided, because I wasn’t sure what else to do, to just abandon myself to this process.
I felt safe with Kincaid. Although that detail was slightly terrifying for a corner of my mind and heart, I clung to it.
I didn’t want to overthink. I didn’t want to let my brain get in the way.
Kincaid began to unwrap me like a present.
He moved in increments, one button at a time on my blouse, his lips brushing over my skin, nipping at an earlobe, teasing on the side of my neck.
He dropped hot kisses after each button came undone and revealed another small patch of skin until the last kiss landed just above the waistband of my skirt.
In this moment, my clothing felt constricting.
I wanted to throw everything off, get everything out of the way.
Each kiss was like a drop of scalding hot honey on my skin, the heat radiating outward in slow motion.
He straightened, his dark eyes burning into mine as I stood there in my bra and skirt.
He startled me when he dipped his head, and his mouth closed over a nipple through the silky lace of my bra. The hot shock of it drew a cry from my mouth. He lifted his head, a wicked gleam in his eyes, just as he reached between my breasts. With a deft twist, he released the clasp on my bra.
My breath was short, my brain lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, and I cried out again when he teased my other nipple. The next few moments passed in a hazy blur.
He started slow, but by the time he peeled my skirt off and I stumbled as I kicked them free from my ankles, the look in his eyes was as wild and untethered as mine. I yanked at his shirt, and he reached behind his head to lift it up and over swiftly without even unbuttoning it.
I let out a sigh of relief when he stepped close, and I could finally feel his bare skin hot under my touch, his hardness against my softness. I let my hands explore the muscled planes of his chest, smoothing over his abs before clasping around his back to feel his corded strength there.
He stepped back, and I almost cried out in protest, but he said, “Just a sec,” as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, moving quickly before tossing a condom on the bed.
A moment later, I impatiently undid the buttons of his fly. He gave me an assist, stumbling as I shoved his jeans down around his hips. His chuckle was low, and almost wondering, when his eyes lifted to mine.
“Tori,” he murmured, “you’re literally going to bring me to my knees.”
I couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, his hands curling on my hips as he lifted me up on the bed, stepping between my knees.
I was down to nothing but a pair of practical cotton panties, while he was down to a pair of fitted boxer briefs.
Every inch of Kincaid was muscle, and I took the moment to study him.
He was tall with a lean frame. I knew his job demanded fitness, but even then, there was an edge to him, almost a leashed strength and energy, even when he was still.
My fingers trailed over a jagged scar on one of his shoulders. “A branch,” he offered. “Not even when I was working. I was hiking and slipped on a rock.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
My exploring fingers discovered another scar, this one along the edge of his ribs.
When my eyes lifted to his in question, he explained, “I was working for that one. Rocks are unforgiving.”
I leaned close and pressed a kiss on it, savoring the sound of air drawing in through his teeth. I dragged my palm over his thick length, eliciting another hiss of his breath. He dipped his head, nipping lightly on the side of my neck. I shivered, arching into his touch like a purring cat.
Once again, it felt as if a flame spun around me, catching me in its heat, like fire with oxygen pouring in. His touch kindled the heat higher and hotter. His lips blazed a trail down my neck, teasing my nipples, mapping over my trembling belly.
Somewhere along the way, he shifted me back, his hand flattening as he slid it down between my breasts, a teasing touch of his thumb on one.
The calloused surface of his palm sent sparks leaping over my skin.
He murmured something against my belly before his fingers hooked on the edge of my panties.
I distantly heard him tell me, “Lift your hips.”
Without hesitation, I did as he asked, because I would have done anything he asked in this moment.
He dragged them down over my legs, and I heard the sound of the fabric rumpling to the floor.
On the heels of a gasping breath, his palms were sliding up my calves before I felt them pressing my thighs apart.
I was breathless and needy, so, so needy.
He dropped hot kisses on the insides of my calves and then thighs.
Who knew that skin just where my knee bent was so wildly sensitive?
Not me. Ever. I was shivering and trembling, each kiss like a hot pebble dropped in a pond, the sensation and heat radiating outward.
“Tori…”
At the sound of his gruff voice, I dragged my eyes open, meeting his.
His fingers teased into the slick wetness of my sex, and I bit my lip, unable to keep a whimper from escaping.
He sank two fingers inside of me. I cried out again when he drew them out and licked my arousal off of them.
It was a good thing I was already lying down on a bed, because I would have completely combusted and melted on the spot.
Seconds later, he brought his mouth to my sex, and proceeded to drive me simply out of my mind.
Lazy licks with his tongue, teasing pumps with his fingers, exploring me slowly and languidly, pushing me to the edge.
I lost all sense of time. All I knew was that I was chasing the relief from the pressure building inside.
A sense of pleasure drew tighter and tighter.
I could feel it building, the tease of it so intense, until I begged, “Kincaid, please…”
My voice was a rasp, broken by my gasps.
One deep pump of his fingers, and I felt the graze of his teeth over my clit.
He sucked lightly, and everything that was drawing tight inside broke apart with a piercing burst of pleasure.
I was shuddering all over, my fingers flexing against the comforter as I cried out.
I was near liquid and boneless by the time the intensity of the pleasure abated. I was gasping, still trying to catch my breath. I distantly absorbed the sense of him moving, my eyes dragging open to see him rolling on the condom he’d had the foresight to toss on the bed.
His weight eased over me, and I savored the feel of it when he brought his mouth to mine with a lazy kiss. I could taste myself on him, the subtle salty tang. I loved it.
“Tori,” he rasped, and I dragged my eyes open. “Is this still okay?”
I could feel his thick crown pressing at my entrance. As if it could be anything other than okay. But I understood he was asking, and he wanted an answer.
My head barely moved as I whispered, “Yes, please…”
I was begging. Again. Because even though he had just given me the most intense orgasm I’d ever had, I wanted more. “I want all of it. Please,” I added as he held my gaze.
I cried out at the sensation of him filling me in a slow thrust.