Chapter 7 #2
She answered by pulling her tank top over her head and letting it fall to the floor. His gaze dropped to her breasts, and she watched his jaw clench with the effort of holding himself in check.
"Beautiful," he breathed, reaching out to trace the curve of one breast with his finger. "So damn beautiful."
His touch was feather-light, teasing, and she wanted more. Needed more.
"Touch me properly," she said. "Please."
He made a sound low in his throat and cupped both breasts in his hands, thumbs circling her nipples until they were hard and aching. Then he leaned down and took one into his mouth, and she cried out at the sensation.
Hot. Wet.
He lavished attention on her breasts until her knees went weak, then he eased her shorts down her hips, taking her panties with them. When she stood naked before him, he took a step back to look at her, and the expression on his face made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world.
"Your turn," she said, hands going to the button of his jeans.
He helped her undress him, and when he stepped out of his jeans and boxer briefs, she stared. He was thick and hard and beautiful, and she wanted to taste him, wanted to feel the weight of him in her hands, wanted him inside her so badly it made her shake.
"Like what you see?" he asked, and there was amusement in his voice beneath the desire.
"Yes." She wrapped her fingers around his length, and he groaned. He was hot and hard in her hand, velvet over steel, and when she stroked him, his hips jerked forward.
"Vanessa." Her name came out strangled. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to come in your hand like a teenager."
"Would that be so bad?"
"Yes, because when I come, I want to be inside you."
The words sent a shiver through her. She released him and he caught her, lifting her onto the bed and following her down. The weight of him was solid and real and exactly what she'd been craving.
"I want to taste you," he said against her throat, lips moving lower with each word. "I want to learn every inch of you."
"Yes," she said as his mouth found her breast, tongue circling her nipple before drawing it between his lips. "Please, yes."
He lavished attention on her breasts until she was writhing beneath him, hands fisted in his hair, hips rocking seeking friction. Then he kissed his way down her body, pausing to trace the curve of her hip with his tongue, to nip at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
When he settled between her legs, she tensed with anticipation.
"Relax, baby," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh. "Let me make you feel good."
The first touch of his tongue made her cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as sensation crashed through her. He was thorough and patient, learning what made her respond, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention that left her mindless with need.
When he slid two fingers inside her, she nearly came apart. He stretched her, filled her, all while his tongue worked magic on her clit until she was begging incoherently.
"That's it," he murmured against her. "Let go for me."
When she finally shattered, it was with his name on her lips and her hands buried in his hair, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure washed through her. He worked her through it, drawing out every last tremor until she collapsed back against the pillows, boneless and sated.
"That was..." she started, then lost the words when he moved up her body to kiss her, letting her taste herself on his lips.
"That was just the beginning," he said, and she could feel him hard and ready against her thigh. "If you want more."
"I want everything," she said. "I want you inside me. Now."
He reached for his jeans on the floor, pulling out his wallet and retrieving a condom. She watched as he rolled it on, watched the way his hands shook slightly, and the knowledge that he was as affected as she was made her want him even more.
He settled between her thighs, the head of his erection pressing against her entrance, and paused.
"Look at me," he said.
She met his eyes, and what she saw there stole her breath. Not just desire, but depth. The same overwhelming feeling that had been building in her for two weeks.
Love.
He pushed inside her slowly, and she held his gaze as he filled her. The stretch, the fullness, the way he completed her in ways she'd never known she was incomplete.
He was big, bigger than anyone she'd been with before, and he moved with care, giving her time to adjust, pressing deeper with each gentle thrust until he was fully seated inside her.
"Okay?" he asked, and his voice shook.
"Oh yeah," she breathed. Nothing had ever felt as right as this. Him inside her, around her, completing her.
He moved slow and deep at first, each thrust deliberate and controlled. But she could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, and she didn't want gentle. She wanted all of him.
"More," she said, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him deeper. "I need more."
He groaned and shifted the angle, hitting a spot inside her that made her see stars. Then he let go, all that careful control unraveling as he drove into her harder, faster, deeper.
The pleasure built gradually, layer upon layer of sensation that made her cling to him like an anchor in a storm. Every thrust pushed her higher, every sound from him making her wetter, hotter, closer to the edge.
"Yes," he groaned against her neck.
The word, the rhythm, the feel of him moving inside her sent her spiraling over the edge again, and she cried out as her body clenched around him.
He followed her over with a hoarse shout, her name a broken prayer on his lips as he found his release, pulsing inside her in waves that seemed to go on forever.
Afterward, they lay tangled together in the aftermath, breathing hard and trying to process what had just happened between them. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, could smell the scent of sex and satisfaction in the air around them.
She turned in his arms so she could see his face, searching for regret or awkwardness but finding only contentment.