9 #2
When he kisses me again, he no longer holds back.
His movements are slow and gentle, sensual but confident.
His fingers trace my cheeks, brush my lips, trail down my neck, and graze my breasts through the fabric that covers them.
They glide back up, wander down my stomach again, and finally slip under my sweatshirt.
My skin shivers at his touch as his hands continue their slow conquest. He explores the curve of my lower back, traces my spine, running his hands slowly up my back to the nape of my neck.
And he kisses me even harder, leaving me breathless.
His leisurely pace is both delicious and torturous.
“Should I take something off first?” he whispers in my ear.
“Yes, but don’t stop kissing me.”
He pulls his T-shirt over his head, leaving my mouth for only a second before being drawn back to it like a magnet.
My hands venture over his chest, his stomach.
His skin is smooth and hairless, like a baby’s, except for a trail of brown hair running down below his belly button and disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.
The thought of where it leads makes my head spin.
“Your turn?” he asks, as if to get my permission.
I stop kissing him and guide his hands to my hips, then let him lift my sweatshirt. I lose myself in his gray eyes as he slowly pulls it up and over my body. He lets it fall beside me, and when he sees that I’m trembling—whether from fear or cold, I’m not sure—he wraps me in his strong arms.
He moves my hair aside and starts playing with the straps of my lilac bra.
Slipping them down my shoulders, he places delicate kisses along my neck and collarbones.
His warm breath gives me goosebumps. I draw his mouth, which I had already started to miss, back to my own, while he uses a finger and thumb to effortlessly unhook my bra.
It falls to my feet, and I feel my breasts brush against his skin. It feels incredible.
“Should I keep going?” he murmurs.
“Your turn,” I reply cautiously.
“No, together.”
He presses his forehead against mine; our noses touch, our breaths mingle.
He begins to caress my buttocks before sliding a hand between my thighs.
A fuzzy heat spreads through me. His fingers undo the first button of my jeans, while mine, trembling, acquaint themselves with the growing bulge in his pants.
I slowly lower his zipper as he undoes the remaining buttons of my jeans.
Vadim disappears from view as he crouches to slide the fabric down my legs.
Then his handsome face looks up at me, and I realize I have never seen a gaze so tender, so intense—the perfect blend of desire, patience, sensuality, and kindness.
I run a hand through his wavy hair, then trace my fingers over his forehead, his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, and the curve of his lips, unable to tear my eyes away from him.
He brings his mouth close to my stomach and places a kiss on my skin, just above my panties, then another on the fabric, right where my desire has begun to take hold.
Everything he does to me makes my head spin.
“Shall we get rid of these?” he murmurs, sliding his index finger under the seam near my hip.
My heart is beating wildly.
“Yes. But don’t look.”
“Alma, I want to see all of you.”
While I stand there, captivated by his gaze, his deft hands slide my panties down to the floor.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are.”
His words make my heart soar.
“And you? Show me…”
He stands up and slips off his jeans without a moment’s hesitation, then looks at me as if to say, “Anything else?”
“Those,” I say, staring at his gray boxers.
“What, you don’t like them?”
His question, meant to be playful, draws a shy smile from me.
“I don’t like them on you…”
“Then help me,” he says.
Our fingers meet on his hips, between the cotton and his skin.
And now we are naked in the middle of his living room, face to face, just inches apart.
I’m feverish, while he is perfectly in control of himself.
I study him, his lean, solid frame, his chiseled abs, his skin like silk in the darkness.
I forget my own nakedness. The pounding of my heart makes my whole body throb.
“Now we’re even,” he whispers, breaking the silence.
“Everything about you is gorgeous.”
With a breathtaking smile, he pulls me into his arms. We are drawn to each other, our bodies pulled together like magnets once again. My hands begin to explore him, discovering his firm, rounded backside, even more perfect than I had imagined. New and exhilarating sensations wash over me.
And now?
Make the first move, Vadim. I won’t be able to bring myself to do it.
Seeming to read my mind, he takes one step forward, then another. Lost in those light-colored eyes, I let him guide me backward until we reach the couch, where we fall down together. Our nervous laughter echoes through the small, silent apartment.
Vadim buries his face in my hair, and the tenderness of the gesture moves me.
This man who fears nothing suddenly seems shy to me, almost fragile, so I hold him against me as tightly as I can.
My desire for him mixes with a surge of affection so intense it takes me aback.
It’s a sensation too powerful to describe. A jolt in my heart, almost like pain.
Vadim kisses my neck, his lips and then his tongue tracing abstract patterns over every inch of my skin—my earlobe, the corner of my mouth, my throat, my chest, and the hollow between my breasts. The feeling of his warm breath against the damp traces left by his kisses makes me shiver.
I sink into a sweet haze, caressing his back, his neck and his whole body as he explores mine with his hands.
Lying against me, he follows the curve of my waist, moves up along my ribs, delicately massages my breasts, and takes my nipples between his fingers.
When they harden, he teases them again with the tip of his nose, before running his tongue over them and enveloping them with his lips.
I burn a little more with each kiss as he makes his way down to my stomach, circles my belly button, and then moves even lower.
I never knew desire could banish fear so completely.