14 #2
I found myself staring at his absolutely perfect body.
Last night, I had felt the strength beneath his skin, glimpsed pieces of him in the dim light, but now, as he stood in the kitchen with every muscle highlighted under the glowing lights, I could truly take it all in.
He was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.
His broad, powerful shoulders, the wide expanse of his muscular chest lightly dusted with dark hair, and those arms .
. . those strong, perfectly sculpted arms. He looked like something out of a dream.
I touched his chest, no longer able to keep my hands off him, and gently traced through the hair, feeling the solid strength of his muscles beneath my fingers. I moved slowly, savoring every moment, letting my hands glide down over his abs. Each line, each defined ridge made my breath catch.
How it was possible for someone to look like that in real life was beyond me.
I’d seen his recent cologne ads—just like every other warm-blooded woman on the planet—but I’d assumed those photos were edited.
But no, this was all him. His body looked like it had been sculpted from stone, perfectly crafted, each muscle fitting together to form the ultimate male.
“Babe . . .” Nash’s voice was low and rough as his hands trailed up my arms, cupping my face, holding me steady as his eyes bored into mine.
I knew I was blushing, but I didn’t care.
I leaned into him, my lips meeting his again.
His eagerness was overwhelming, his lips and tongue demanding, his hips moving in a slow, torturous circle, grinding his erection against my core.
Every time he hit the right spot, a light moan escaped my lips. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more.
“I fucking love that sound,” Nash said, his voice hoarse. “Wrap your legs around me, baby,” he instructed.
I did as he asked, and he carried me into his bedroom.
It was dark, but since the drapes weren’t drawn, there was enough light from the world below us that I could see the outlines of the room.
It was large, especially by New York City standards.
The focus of the room was the huge king-size bed that was centered against the back wall.
Nash deposited me gently onto the bed and climbed up beside me.
“Let’s get rid of some unnecessary clothing,” he suggested.
My jeans ended up on the floor, quickly followed by his pants. Nash paused for a moment when I was down to my lace bra and black underwear.
“Fuck, you’re sexy, Kennedy,” he murmured.
Nobody had ever called me that before. Boring, reserved, even a little uptight—those were the kinds of words I’d heard. Sexy wasn’t something I’d ever associated with myself, and I loved that he saw me that way.
He leaned down and began placing warm, open-mouthed kisses along the insides of my legs—down to my knees, my ankles, and then back up again.
His pace was maddeningly slow, alternating soft, teasing kisses with the gentle sweep of his tongue along the sensitive skin of my thighs.
Every breath and brush of his stubble had heat curling low in my belly.
I tried to keep my breathing even, to control the way my hips jerked toward him, but it was useless. Nash knew exactly how to push me to the edge without taking me over it.
My whole body was ablaze from everything he was doing—and from everything he wasn’t. He was so close to where I needed him most, but he kept teasing, making me ache in ways I’d never experienced.
When he finally slid my underwear down, I was desperate for him. The hunger in his eyes told me he knew it too. He didn’t make me wait any longer—his mouth found me in one slow, devastating stroke, his tongue moving in a way that made my head fall back and my eyes roll shut.
A broken sound tore from my throat as I fumbled for something to hold on to, settling for a steady grip on his dark, wavy hair, forcing him to stay exactly where he was.
I felt his hot breath over my sex as he chuckled, but he didn’t move.
The magic he worked with that tongue . .
. It didn’t take long until I was writhing with pleasure.
Nash grinned broadly as he looked down at me lying beneath him, completely spent. My body felt weightless and relaxed, all the tension melted away. As my breathing slowed, Nash leaned in and kissed me gently, and I could taste myself on his lips.
“You liked that?” he asked teasingly, knowing damn well what he had just done to me.
“No,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
He chuckled. “You taste incredible. I imagined you would, but actually experiencing it . . .”
He licked his lips as if savoring my flavor, and I felt his firm arousal pressing against my thigh as he leaned in closer.
“My turn.”
I shifted out from under him by gently pressing my hand against his shoulder. There was no way I could actually make him do anything he didn’t want to because of our size difference, but he willingly rolled onto his back.
Taking my time as he had, I began to explore.
I placed soft kisses along his broad chest, tracing the peaks and valleys of his incredible abs, following the trail of dark hair from his navel downward until I reached the part of him I’d been thinking about since the previous night.
He was already hard, thick, and just as impressive as I remembered.
I pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the crown before wrapping both hands around him.
Nash grabbed hold of my hair and pulled it to the side.
I knew he was watching me, which made the whole thing even more erotic.
I took my time licking and stroking while paying attention to changes in his breathing pattern and how his body reacted to what I was doing.
When I opened my mouth and slid down and over him, taking in as much as I could, he couldn’t hold back.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back.
I tightened my grip and began to pump him in a slow but steady pace while I alternated sucking with licking over the sensitive head. His breathing grew heavier, each grunt and low pant spurring me on.
It didn’t take long until his thighs went rigid under me and his grip on my hair tightened.
“Kennedy,” he ground out, his voice strained, “you have to stop or I’m gonna come.”
I could tell he was holding himself back, probably afraid he’d hurt me because of his size, but the urge to thrust, to rock his hips, was clearly there.
I wasn’t ready to stop. I wanted to watch him come apart under my touch. I slid my mouth as far down as I could. He hit the back of my throat, and I gagged, but that didn’t stop me. My hands continued to pump him, squeezing faster and harder.
“Kenny,” he warned again, his voice low, almost growling, but I continued to ignore him and shook off his hand when he placed it on my shoulder in a final warning.
He came with a raw, guttural roar, spilling deep into my throat.
His entire body tightened and shook as he released, but the look of pure pleasure on his face made me feel like I was the queen of the world.
“Damn, woman.” Nash sighed, reaching for me.
I giggled as I crawled back up and lay down next to him with my head on his shoulder.
“I can’t say I ever expected that,” he murmured. “You’re like a dream come true.”
“Nash,” I groaned, swatting the forearm wrapped around my waist. “You’re making me blush.”
“You should blush after that,” he teased. I laughed, probably red as a tomato, and it only took a few seconds before he joined in.
“I guess I’ll just go,” I joked, making a show of squirming as if to get up.
“Oh no, you won’t.” Nash caught my waist and pulled me back down, tucking my back snugly against his front. I leaned my head against his chest as we laughed together.