Chapter 9 – Maura #2
This boundary is James’s first test, and if he doesn’t pass, I don’t know how I’ll be able to get through tonight.
“Wait.” I put a hand on James’s chest, stopping him. “Not my shirt. I need to keep my clothes on from the waist up.”
Please don’t ask.
Please don’t ruin this.
I watch him carefully, waiting to see his reaction. There’s a flash of curiosity in his eyes, but after a second he nods. “Okay.”
My shoulders slump with relief, the tension in my body lessening somewhat. He didn’t push. Green flag.
“Should I keep my shirt on, too?” he asks.
“Only if you want to.” As much as I’d love to see the firm muscles I know are under his clothes, fair’s fair.
In answer, he reaches for the top button of his shirt.
My eyes are glued to his wide hands as he makes quick work of the shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders before pulling off his undershirt.
His broad muscled chest makes my fingers itch to grab a pencil and sketch him, capturing the lines and shadows on paper so I can keep them forever.
Or, more realistically, I could touch him right now. My mouth goes bone-dry.
“Just so you know, I don’t expect you to seduce me,” I blurt out. “This doesn’t have to be some big romantic thing. We can just get it done with.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “No. We can’t.”
I blink. “Why not?”
His hands clench into fists at his sides. “I have to get you warmed up for me, Maura. It’s the only way this will work long-term. If we’re going to do this for multiple days every month, it’ll be too hard if you’re sore.”
“Oh.” I guess that makes sense, even though sex has never left me particularly sore before.
“Besides, there’s no reason this can’t be physically pleasurable for both of us. I can make you feel good without getting emotion involved,” he says. “Trust me. Let me show you how good it could be for us.”
The words send a fluttering pulse between my thighs. My body temperature feels like it’s just spiked a degree or ten. “Okay. That sounds—yes.”
James doesn’t laugh at my stammering answer. He strides closer, until there’s maybe a foot between us. I have to look up to meet his hooded eyes. He raises his hand, making the muscles of his bicep jump, but he doesn’t touch me.
“Can I touch your face?” The words rumble from him, sending vibrations down my spine.
“Yes,” I breathe. His thumb skates over my lower lip, and my mouth opens for him automatically.
“Beautiful,” he whispers as he moves to cup my face in his hand. He brushes a few strands of hair back behind my ear, and my eyes flutter shut. It’s too much, having him look at me like this, his full attention focused on me.
Heat radiates off his body as he steps closer. “How about your neck? Can I touch you there?”
I nod, and the back of his fingers brush over the exposed skin. My chin tilts up automatically, giving him access. His fingertips move around to the nape of my neck, threading through the hair at the nape of my neck.
“How about your collar?” he murmurs. “I won’t go under your shirt.”
My shoulders tense. I have to trust him now, trust that he won’t push my limits. “Yes.”
His thumb skates along the high collar of my skirt.
Half of his digit touches my skin, the other burns through the thin fabric.
Cool relief courses through my veins, making me want more of his hands on me.
If he keeps asking me so respectfully, it’s going to take forever, and frankly, I’d like to feel him now.
“Touch me, please,” I breathe. “You can touch me anywhere, James.”
He lets out a low groan and his hands close around my waist, spanning the distance from my waist to just under my breasts. His thumbs stroke my ribs, comforting, like he did with my hand while we were at the altar. My skin prickles at the sensation, even through the fabric.
“I want to kiss you, Maura. I swear, I’ll stop the moment you want me to. Can I?”
“Yes,” I plead.
His lips brush lightly against mine, teasing me. Liquid heat drips down my spine like honey. He’s barely touched me, and already I’m craving him more than I did the other men I slept with.
Gripping my waist tighter, he pulls my body tight against his. His lips press harder against mine, demanding and hungry. I whimper, opening for him, and his tongue strokes mine in a long, controlled movement.
I’m lost in the feel of him as his wide hands travel up and down my sides, making me shiver against his touch.
His hands drag down, closing around my ass and squeezing it.
There’s not much there to grab. I’ve always been self-conscious about my slim hips and general lack of curves, but judging by the way James groans against my mouth, he likes the feel of me just fine.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he mutters. “I can’t wait to feel you without this.”
His fingers move to the side zipper of my skirt, sliding it down until the silk slides down my legs and pools on the floor.
The air is cool against my skin, and I’m suddenly aware of just how bare I am.
I wore a thong with this skirt to avoid lines, and there’s only a thin band of fabric covering my seeping pussy.
I press my thighs together, feeling my own dampness on my skin.
James reaches down, pulling my panties aside so he can stroke my bare cunt. A groan pours from his throat. “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me.”
My face flushes. “I’m ready, James.”
He shakes his head. “No. You’re not.”
I grab his hand, pressing it more firmly against the wetness between my thighs. “I am, see?”
“No. Maura, I’m larger than you might be used to,” he says bluntly. “You’re not ready. You have to let me warm you up, okay?”
Oh.
Whatever I expected him to say, it wasn’t that. None of the men I’ve been with before had to issue an official warning. A pang of nervousness flickers through me, but I push it away. “Okay.”
His other hand interweaves with mine, and he guides me back toward his bed. He pulls me onto the plush mattress, the duvet cool and feather-soft on my bare skin. He trails hot kisses along the line of my neck, and I arch against him, instinctively wanting him closer.
He lowers his hand to hover over my breast. “Can I?”
I know what he’s asking. I’ve given him permission to touch me wherever he wants, but he knows the shirt is a boundary. He’s checking in with me, and I’m grateful for it.
“Please,” I breathe, and he palms the small mound through my shirt.
My nipples tighten under the fabric. I didn’t put on a bra—with my small breasts, it’s not really necessary.
I can’t believe how good it feels to have him touch me like this, even with a layer of fabric between us.
My hips press against his, and I feel the ridge of his hardened cock against me.
Arousal pools in my panties, and I know they’re not enough to hold it back.
I’m going to make a mess on his trousers.
“I want to touch you,” James growls. He hooks his finger in the elastic top of my thong, pulling it down over my hip. I adjust my legs to help him pull them off so I’m bare for him. My sensitive pussy aches to be touched, and I’m so close to what I’m craving.
James meets my eyes as he presses the tip of his finger against my entrance.
My hands fist in the comforter underneath me as he pushes a long finger inside me.
Oh, god. It feels so goddamn good to have him filling me.
I can’t remember the last time a man touched me like this.
Then he circles my clit with his thumb and I can’t remember anything.
“Good?” he asks.
I whine in response, and a wicked smile flashes across his face. He teases a second finger at my entrance, giving me time to stop him. I don’t, because I’m already desperate for more, hot and writhing on his hand.
Damn. If I thought it was good before, I had no idea.
Two of James’s fingers are heaven. I melt back against the bed as he presses inside me, stretching me while he sends shockwaves through my body with his fingers on my clit.
It’s so perfect, so good that if he just kept going, I’d come in minutes.
Until a third finger strokes my sensitive entrance. When it pushes inside, I grab James’s shoulders hard enough to bruise. He freezes. “Too much?”
I nod, and he frowns.
“I won’t stop here. I want you to take at least three of my fingers, Maura. You’re going to need it if you’re going to take my cock.” Before I can panic, he presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I know it’s a stretch, but don’t worry. I promised I’d make it good.”
His mouth moves down my neck, kissing me through my shirt along my sternum.
Fuck, what if he feels the scar through the fabric?
I know it’s unlikely, but I can’t help the way my muscles lock up.
If James notices how I tense as he moves over my scar, he must assume I’m still worried about taking him.
I let out a sigh of relief as he continues downward, kissing over my stomach.
Until I realize where he’s headed.
“Wait,” I plead, my hand pulling his face away from my thighs. “I need a second. I’ve never done this before.”
His blue eyes widen with what looks like horror. “Fuck. Are you—you’re not a virgin, are you?”
I laugh. “God, no. I’m not a virgin, just…poorly serviced.”
Anger flashes across his face, but it’s gone just as quickly. “Let me, then.”
When I nod, he settles between my thighs, his dark hair stark against my pale skin.
He kisses my swollen nub, gently at first, then a little harder.
My nerves light up at the touch. It feels different, but so damn good—softer and more delicate than fingers.
Then his tongue drags over my clit, and I see stars.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, my hand threading into his hair, pulling him closer.