Twelve #2
It never hurt so much to look at anything.
Breathing heavily, he blinked, mesmerized by the delicate swell of flesh and smooth expanse of olive skin.
Reaching forward, he brushed the back of his fingers over the pebbled tip of her nipple.
Her spine elongated as she moaned, and he paused.
He glanced at her in question, wondering if this was what she intended or if he’d gone too far.
Her gaze turned heavy as her full lips curved into a smile. “You can do what you like, Elliot.”
Finding nothing but trust in her stare, he returned his attention to her breasts.
There was a small clasp in the center of her bra.
Carefully, he pressed the catch together, plumping her breasts, and then drew the material apart.
The lace gathered and dragged over her flesh, exposing heaven. His hands shook as he stared in awe.
Full, lush, and mouthwatering, her dark nipples tightened before his eyes. Keeping his touch tentative and gentle, he feathered his fingertips over her areola and it puckered tighter. Her breathing rasped as he trailed his touch to her other nipple and tiny goosebumps rose on her shoulders.
Her chest lifted with each breath as she watched him. She was a work of art, every single inch of her a flawless masterpiece. She was exquisite feminine perfection, each little mark, freckle, and blemish proving she was real.
“You’re … gorgeous,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.
Nudging his head lower, she threaded her fingers through his hair and brought his face to her chest. “Taste.”
Glancing over the frames of his glasses, he studied the way her eyes had dilated and her cheeks flushed. She was aroused—aroused by him. He nuzzled his nose to the side of her breast, pressing his lips to the soft flesh as he breathed her in—nuzzling.
She giggled. “You’re quite good at Eskimo kisses.”
His body was rigidly hard, his arousal insurmountably constricting in too many ways. Feeling with his lips, he glided his mouth over every slope and contour, until they finally brushed the firm tip of her nipple. He placed a kiss on the side of her areola and slowly licked over the delicate crest.
Her breathy sigh met his ears as her fingers threaded through his hair and her thighs tightened over his hips. She lifted, dragging the tip of her nipple over his parted lips and he kissed her flesh with slow, succulent pulls, drawing her deeper.
She keened and took up a gradual rhythm, canting against his hips with each soft pull of his mouth.
He drew back, fascinated by the damp skin, now darker from the flow of blood beneath the surface.
Turning his attention to her other breast, he did the same, pulling, sucking, tasting her.
A thousand volts of electricity seemed to dance up his spine as his need expanded and greed unraveled inside of him.
His hands coasted down her back, holding her to him as he took his time pleasuring her.
Her moans, breathless and needy, came closer together the harder he pulled.
Her hands tugged at his hair, his clothing, and her hips contracted over his, rolling and creating a delicious friction between them.
If it felt this incredible to have her rubbing against him, he couldn’t imagine how mind-blowing it would feel to actually be inside of her.
Her hand drifted down his chest. The weight of her fingers brushed the bulge of his erection.
He jerked back and gasped as her palm closed around his solid length and stroked through his pants.
Her finger traced the buckle of his belt, almost questioningly, as she lifted her lashes and looked into his eyes.
Was this how it happened? Shouldn’t it be more orchestrated? Romantic? Formal?
Physical need overruled romantic ideals and he pressed his hand over hers, holding her to him. The weight of her touch satisfied something dark inside and he shivered, almost coming then and there.
Sliding off his lap, she dropped to her knees, fitting perfectly between his thighs. He held his breath. He didn’t want it to end, but if she actually touched him, flesh to flesh, it would be over in a matter of seconds.
“Nadia…”
“Shh. I want to.”
Her dainty fingers unlatched his belt and unclasped the top button of his pants. He sucked in a breath as she gazed up at him and slowly dragged the zipper down, parting the constricting material.
His heartbeat resounded in his ears and his breathing grew unusually loud. He lifted his hips as she nudged his pants lower on his legs. She reached into his briefs and his eyes rolled shut.
He beat back his nerves, distracted by the worry he might disappoint her in some way.
Her fingers brushed the flesh of his cock and he hissed in a breath.
Nothing had ever felt so exquisite, so carnal, so agonizingly right.
Licking his lips, he peeked through his lashes and watched as she withdrew him.
Struggling to calm his breathing, he focused on her fingers folding around his throbbing flesh and let out a jagged exhalation. “Christ.”
“Has a woman ever done this for you before?” she asked, her hold tightening as she stroked slowly.
Unable to form words, he shook his head. It felt nothing like when he touched himself. Her hold was so warm and firm, but delicate.
“I’m glad I’m the first. I get jealous, too.” She smirked.
As she tipped her head, her hair stole his view. Every muscle in his body locked as wet heat closed over him. Bowing against the bed, he hissed as she lowered her mouth, sucking him to the back of her throat even as she stroked him.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he cursed, unable to rein in his control.
Wanting to see what she was doing, he gathered the wild mass of onyx waves and pulled her hair away from her face.
His toes curled as pleasure knifed through him, more potent now that he could see her mouth gliding over him.
Her cheeks hollowed with every pull. Her lashes threw tiny shadows on her tantalizing skin.
Frantic not to come, he tried to catch his breath. She literally stole his breath, stole it right from his soul.
His head tipped back reflexively. His eyes rolled in delirious pleasure, and he let out an agonizing moan as his control spun away.
An explosion of fantasies fabricated into reality, and his mind shattered.
This was actually happening and it was a million times better than his darkest dreams. There was no drawing back his orgasm now.
As his release tunneled through him, his body quaked under her erotic touch. Her moans sent little vibrations through his cock. The pleasure was too intense.
Waves of ecstasy ripped through him as a guttural moan ripped from his chest. He fisted the blankets and gritted his teeth. “Nadia. Nadia, I’m …”
Her tight mouth released him and she smiled, her hand still stroking, dragging his urgent release through his veins too fast for him to stop it from happening. He cupped his hand over his cock.
Didn’t she know what she was doing to him? “I’m going to…”
She brushed his hand away and stroked harder. “On me.”
He grunted as the first spurt shot across her breast. Jesus Christ. He couldn’t hold back. Gasping, he shut his eyes and let go. Relief morphed into utter mortification as he lost control in those finishing seconds and came across her breasts.
He shivered and flinched, her lingering touch too much to tolerate. He fell back on the bed, panting.
When he finally opened his eyes, he was painfully aware of how exposed he was. His cock had softened but still throbbed, remaining thicker than usual. He covered himself with his hand and sat up, stilling when he saw her.
Her breasts were slick with his come. Her hair was as wild as her eyes. Lips parted, she smiled and gazed up at him.
Unsure what to do, he tucked himself away and stood, taking her hand. As she rose from the carpet, he gave her a moment to find her bearings—and a moment for him to find his fucking brain. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be the same again.
It was too quiet. Unsure how to proceed, he led her to the bathroom and lifted her onto the vanity. Turning the faucet to warm, he grabbed a fresh washcloth from the rack. Once the cloth was warm and wet, he carefully washed away the evidence.
She watched him carefully but didn’t say a word. When he had her cleaned up and dry, he met her gaze, his full of mortification and apology.
It was only then they truly looked each other directly in the eye, fully aware that this changed everything.
Something inside of him shifted, internally growling as he stared at her and smiled.
Territorial pride washed through him, wiping away any traces of regret as she seemed happy about what just happened.
She wasn’t angry with him or shocked by his behavior.
Relief swept through him as his mortification flipped to pride.
She was pleased and he could sense her pleasure, see it in the way her eyes sparkled and her mouth smirked.
An unfamiliar voice in his head growled, catching him off guard, but his body seemed to rattle with the inward claim.
Mine. He would never willingly give her up.
Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers and kissed her deeply. Once again shocked that she let him.
Her gaze turned shy, as they broke apart. “Should we cuddle now?”
His chest warmed at the thought of holding her in his arms. Nodding, he led her to the bed and drew back the covers. She slid under the sheets and smiled up at him, but he hesitated.
Part of him feared if he shut his eyes he’d wake up and she’d be gone. “I feel like I’m in a dream. Promise you won’t disappear.”
Her throaty laugh broke the silence. “You’re a strange man, Elliot. Come hold me. I’m cold.”
His fingers unbuttoned his shirt and he hung it carefully over the back of the chair, then awkwardly slid under the covers. She snuggled close to his side and he kept his eyes open as long as possible, but eventually, exhaustion defeated his strength of will.