Chapter Six #3
"Can't tell you how many times I imagined getting my hands on you," he told me, trading one confession for another, making my belly flutter.
"Last Christmas, I imagined sliding that dress up, getting to feel your skin.
" His fingers left my ass, moving up, slipping under the hem of my loose t-shirt, teasing over my skin that goose-bumped at the touch.
"Never could have known how soft your skin would be, though," he told me, making a shiver course through me as his hands shifted to the sides, gliding up over my ribs, fingertips teasing at the very edges of my breasts, making my nipples harden, made my chest feel weighted.
I didn't need his hands to coax me. My hips shifted on their own, grinding down against him, feeling the ache of need overtake me until all I could think about was getting my clothes off, getting his off as well, feeling his skin pressed to mine, feeling his hands roving over me, fingers sinking into flesh, cock slipping inside me like I had imagined far too many times before.
If kissing him was infinitely better than I could dream of, I could only imagine what having sex with him might be like.
His fingers snagged my shirt, gently moving it across my skin.
My head went back, arms going up, allowing him to free me of it.
Not putting on a bra after my shower, I was naked from the waist up, my damp hair teasing over my exposed flesh, making my nipples tweak harder, a shudder moving through me, something that made an unexpected, delicious growling noise reverberate through Kingston's chest. Which sent off a shiver for an entirely different reason, one I felt down to my bones.
Air expanded Kingston's chest, catching there for a long moment before slowly moving out, his hands settling at the skin just above my hips, thumbs teasing over my ribs.
It was my turn for a steadying breath, trying to convince my system to be patient, enjoy every last second of this, knowing the first would be the time always remembered most vividly, wanting it to be the kind of memory to savor, to cling to no matter what may happen in the future.
His hands finally moved, inching up my sides before sliding inward, the giant palms closing over my maybe not too impressive breasts, enveloping them completely.
The rough skin was an intimate, erotic scrape over my sensitive nipples, a sensation that made me arch backward slightly, pressing my chest even more fully into his hands.
His hands shifted again, allowing his thumbs to graze over my hardened peaks, making a strobe-like breath shudder out of me.
"Couldn't have known you'd be so sensitive either," he added, voice getting lower, rougher in his need.
His hands moved suddenly, sinking in at my hips once again, pulling, lifting, shifting my weight off of him, his body turning as he pressed me down on the couch, his body moving over mine, knees planted—one on the very edge of the cushion, the other firmly placed between my legs, just close enough that if I shimmied down even the slightest bit, it would press against the pulsating need between my thighs.
His lips pressed into mine briefly, just long enough to make me want more before breaking away, tracing my jawline, teasing down the side of my neck, across my collarbone, down the center of my chest.
His tongue took over from there, gliding under each breast until my back was arched painfully off the cushions, until my fingers were curling desperately into his skin with enough force to guarantee little purple crescents to remind him of this moment even hours later.
Only when a choked, "Please," worked its way out of me did he finally turn his attentions upward, lips sealing over one of my nipples, sucking hard enough for my vision to go white with the intensity of feeling, my sex clenching so hard I thought I might come just from his mouth teasing me.
I was more prepared when he moved over my chest. Or so I thought.
Until what I felt wasn't his lips closing over me, but his teeth sinking in with a white-hot heat that shot from the contact to between my legs, pushing me even closer to the edge, dangerously close.
Close enough that I was sure one shimmy against his leg between my thighs would be all it would take.
His face shifted between my breasts again, moving an excruciatingly slow path downward, his tongue tracing the line of my waistband before he moved back upward, planting one arm to push himself up to look down at me as his other hand disappeared.
I didn't know its target until I felt his fingers press against my cleft through my pants.
I hadn't been wrong.
That was all it took.
Call it what you want.
Over-sensitivity to touch.
Being so long without it.
The real-life manifestation of a long-held fantasy.
But whatever the reason, the orgasm crashed through my system, unexpected, more intense than I was sure I had ever felt before, ripping a moan from somewhere deep inside as Kingston's eyes widened a little, his breath hissing out of him.
"Fuck." Surprise, desire, and pleasure mixed in that one word from somewhere deep within him as my legs moved up, wrapped around his lower back, pulled him closer.
His body pressed into me as his lips claimed mine again, but only one arm planted, the other curled around my lower back, lifting as he pressed back onto his knees, then found his feet, carrying me with him as he blindly made his way through his apartment.
The next sensation was my back hitting the mattress gently, was losing Kingston as he kneeled above me, hands sliding down my ribs, fingers snagging the waistbands of my pants and panties, pulling, urging me to lift up.
It was a soft order I was happy to obey, planting my feet to bridge up, feeling the material glide over my hips, down my ass, over the tops of my thighs before I sank back down, pulling my knees to my chest so he could free me completely.
As he turned to toss the clothes to the floor, my body curled up, all too aware of the unfairness of our situation. My complete nudity, his clothed body.
Curled up to a seated position placed my head just barely over his waist, something we both seemed to realize at the same time, his head turning back, eyes getting even more hooded, his breath shaking out of his chest.
My hands planted at his hips to steady myself to slip my legs underneath me, pressing up on my knees, my head just under his as my hands slid down his sides, grabbing the edges of his tee, lifting it.
He had to take over once it was too high for my reach, dragging off the barrier, tossing it carelessly to the side, gaze holding mine with an almost unnerving intensity.
Maybe it was partially out of cowardice, the way I broke the contact first. But there was no denying that there was also a hefty amount of curiosity, need to see him like he had gotten to see me.
My hands rose again, one settling at his hip, the other pressing into the center of his stomach, feeling the indents of his muscles that twitched slightly at my touch. My fingers sought a bold path downward, emboldened when his breath hissed out between his teeth.
Button, zip.
His hands slid down my back, sinking into my bare ass, squeezing possessively.
Pressing my forehead into his chest, I smiled, loving the way his every touch seemed to want to claim ownership of me, not caring if that made me seem needy.
Maybe I was. I didn't care. Anyone could view it how they wanted, but in my opinion, there was nothing wrong with being possessed by a man such as Kingston Rivers.
I grabbed the waistbands of his jeans and boxer briefs, working them down over his hips until they got stuck at his knees.
My hand grew bold, sliding back up his thigh, slipping inward, hand closing over his cock with a small whimper at the idea of having him inside me, filling me.
A rumble moved through Kingston as my hand stroked him, as my thumb slid across the sensitive head, feeling a bead of wetness there.
Before I could explore him anymore, he was grabbing my hips, shoving me back onto the mattress, my body bouncing gently as Kingston discarded his pants fully, coming back over me, his whole body pressing against me.
My legs opened invitingly, feeling his body slide between, his cock pressing against my pelvis, full of promise.
His lips pressed to mine. Harder. Hungrier. Devouring. Burning into mine. My lips felt immediately swollen from the pressure, more sensitive, hinting at an ache I would feel for hours later.
My fingers raked down his back, sinking into his ass, pulling, trying to guide his hips to shift, to allow his cock to slide between my folds, press against the throbbing need of my clit.
His lips ripped from mine, moving down between my breasts, down my belly, with none of the slow exploration of before, his moves were tightly controlled, just barely holding onto his restraint.
I didn't care much about restraint, though, as his hands gripped my thighs, cocking them upward to pin them against the bed as his head leveled with my pelvic bone, then lower.
His tongue traced slowly up my slit, the gentle touch sending a shiver through my body.
Then it found my clit, tracing just outside it, teasing at fire while he carefully stoked the flames.
My hips rose to meet him as my hands slid up his back to slip into his hair, holding him to me as though afraid he might have tried to pull away at the last possible moment.
I should have known better.
If there was one thing people would tell you about Kingston, aside from being steadfast, honest, kind-hearted, and good, well, it was that he was generous, giving.
So he gave.
And gave.
Through yet another orgasm that started slow and deep at the base of my spine, pulsing slow and hard outward until it felt like it overtook me completely, making my thighs shake, my fingers pull at soft strands of hair, my breath to catch, strangle, until the first crest crashed fully.
And then the sound that came from me was the only one that mattered.
His name.