Chapter 14 #2
Clinging to him, I gave up trying to touch him and let him have his way with me instead, because his way—his teasing and worshiping, as he’d called it—was nothing short of sensational.
When he eventually continued his exploration by moving lower, kissing my belly button, nipping below it, he shifted his lower body out of my reach. Before I could lodge another complaint, his tongue glided over my folds, and I arched into him, silently begging for more.
He didn’t disappoint or make me wait, plunging his tongue inside me, brushing his thumb over my clit, then circling it as he laved and licked at me, gentle at first. I touched my nipple, pulled at it, and kneaded it as his tongue and fingers between my legs turned me into a tightly wound bundle of need.
He peered up at me, heat flashing in his eyes, then moved one hand up to play with my other nipple, his mouth still working magic.
I bit down on a plea, fighting myself, remembering his promise to make me beg. I was torn between wanting everything in the next ten seconds and needing this to last for hours longer. When his tongue teased my clit, I lost the battle.
“Kemp, please.”
He growled against me, shooting my desire up another degree, to a level I’d never experienced before.
I hadn’t ever needed so desperately, to the point I couldn’t think straight.
I stopped fighting myself and begged him, swore, gasped, moaned…
I didn’t really know what came out of my mouth. Didn’t care. Just needed.
In the next second, I exploded into a jillion pieces, biting his shoulder to keep from screaming, some far corner of my brain recognizing I shouldn’t wake up the baby in the other room.
As I gradually came back into myself, I registered Kemp’s tongue on my breast again, his weight partially on me, partially supported by one of his beefy arms. He licked and played gently, lovingly, with hunger in his eyes, as if I was a gourmet treat he wanted to revere and devour at once.
I spent a few languid, blissful moments watching him, basking in the revelation that Kemp—my Kemp—was on top of me, loving me, giving me what I’d dreamed of for years.
As he shifted, his erection pressed into me, reminding me that I was the only one who’d been sated. Of course, he was the one who’d insisted on keeping his underwear on.
I tugged at the waistband again. “You ready to get these off yet?” I asked.
He lifted so I could drag them down to his thighs. Then he took them the rest of the way off. The second his cock brushed against my skin, my body responded, that ache deep inside coming to life, surprising me.
I reached for him, needing to wrap my fingers around him, to feel the distinctively soft skin over steel.
He rose slightly, giving me access. A million times over the years, I’d stolen glances when he was in swim trunks or athletic shorts, curious about the private parts of him I’d longed to know.
My imagination had been generous, but reality was even better.
As I stroked him, exploring his size and textures, he let out a low, sexy moan.
“We should—” He gasped as I ran my thumb over his tip, and I reveled in the knowledge that I could affect him with the smallest touch. “I should find a condom,” he said.
I’d never had sex without one. Never wanted to. Until now. I wanted nothing more than to feel all of Kemp inside me, with nothing between us.
“I’m on birth control,” I said. “I’ve never not used condoms.”
“Me neither, but you can bet I got tested when I found out one failed. I’m clean.”
I guided him to my entrance insistently, more than ready to have him inside, filling me.
He stretched me as he entered, the smooth friction pulling a gasp from me. He was big but not painful, as if he’d been made just for my body, just for my pleasure.
“You okay?” he asked, gazing into my eyes with so much tenderness it stole my breath.
I nodded to reassure him, unable to even begin to express how much better than okay I was.
“You feel like heaven,” he said as he started to move, slowly pulling partway out then thrusting in, over and over, as we found our rhythm together.
He kissed me sensually, our tongues mimicking the motion of our bodies, thrusting, filling, meshing, becoming one. He palmed my breast roughly, kneading it, adding to the sensual onslaught that had me surrendering every last thought.
Our urgency built up fast, until it seemed we were both out of our minds and moving on an ancient instinct, seeking, climbing, reaching for release together.
The headboard thumped with every thrust, getting louder, but I couldn’t worry about it.
Didn’t even care if Oliver woke at this point, as long as Kemp and I came apart first.
He shifted and slid his palms beneath my butt, grasping me, nearly splitting me in the best possible way, and then I clung to him as I shattered around him.
“Fuck, Anna,” he rasped rawly into my ear.
With his next thrust, he spilled into me, our bodies grasping to the ecstasy, riding it until we both went limp, spent, breathing hard. Eventually he rolled to his side, pulling me with him until my head rested on his shoulder, his arm around me, our bodies flush.
I closed my eyes, taking in the sensory feast of lying here with this man I’d dreamed of for so many years. The scents, of him and of sex. The feel of his slick, sweaty skin and coarse chest hair. The peaceful, reassuring sound of his breath as it slowed and evened out.
Never in my life had I felt so safe, so sated, so content. There should be a better word than content, because it couldn’t begin to describe the satisfaction, the elation, the perfection of lying here tangled with the man I loved with all my heart.
I was vaguely aware that I should get up and put myself back together, but I succumbed to the comfort that was Kemp and let myself drift off into the peaceful unconsciousness of sleep.