Love in Lingerie(49)
I was going to continue, but I lose the words when he leans forward and captures my mouth with his.
Him
When a kiss waits for a thousand days, it erupts like a cyclone—a slow unfurling of lips, of tongues, hands ripping, clothes flying, hot swirls of breath met with a clash of frantic desire. I had always envisioned that I would take my time, that I would carefully taste her, my tongue sampling, a gentle moment that I would savor every second of. But in this kiss, we take a hundred seconds in every ten. I groan against her mouth and push her down onto my lap. Her knee moves, our hands fight to reconnect, then she is straddling me, and her hips grind down on me, and I break from her mouth just long enough to swear her name.
I’ve both feared and anticipated this moment for so long. I’ve wondered if we’d have chemistry or whether our tension was all a myth, the promise of the unattainable only hot because of its impossibility.
It wasn’t a myth. I’ve never experienced chemistry like this, each taste of her tongue, each shift of her body, the yank of her hand in my hair—each one fans the flame, my cock pushing painfully against my zipper, my skin burning to have more of her, everywhere against me. I slide my hands down the back of her pants and grip her ass, rolling with her, until she falls back on the leather couch, her hair loose and wild, her eyes burning in a way I have never seen. I pause.
“What? What’s wrong?” she asks, her chest heaving, cheeks flushed.
“Don’t move,” I whisper.
“You’re not coming, are you?” Her eyes widen and God, I fucking love this woman.
“No.” I grin. “I am definitely not coming. I just…” I just want to savor this moment. I just want to remember, forever, how she looks right now, the way she reaches for me, pants for me. I want to remember how her lips are swollen from my kiss, her heart is pounding, the glow of her skin. I swallow. “I just want to tell you that I love you.”
She slides her hand under the waist of my jeans and grips my belt, pulling me down to her. “I love you too,” she whispers, her mouth lifting to mine. “But right now, I really need you to get naked.”
I can’t argue with that. I steal another kiss as her fingers pull at my shirt, our mouths breaking apart as she pulls the cotton henley over my head. I stand and yank at my belt, nodding at her jeans. “Take those off.”
I should take her to my bedroom, but that’s too far away, and this moment feels like a mirage, one that could dissolve at any moment, her head in play, her doubts kicking, my past too much for her mind to overcome. I unbutton my jeans and push them to the floor, dropping to my knees as I move to the edge of the couch, my hands pulling on the waist of her jeans, helping to slide them down her legs, her back settling into the couch cushion as she watches me through heavy eyes.
I don’t know what is under her shirt, but seeing the expensive thong as it is unveiled, the familiar style, knowing my name is against her skin—it does something to my heart. It’s not just mine, it’s ours, our labor of love, our late nights, our arguments, our passion. I spread her knees and settle in between her legs, my hands sliding up her thighs, toward the black triangle of lace. I run a reverent hand over the delicate material, tracing the details of it and then down, in between her beautiful legs. I lower my mouth to the lace and follow the path of my fingers, planting soft kisses from her hips to her mound, and I breathe in the scent of her, my tongue moving over the lines of the thong, teasing her through the fabric, a small whimper of pleasure coming from her as I hit her most sensitive places. She curves beneath me, and I hold her in place, supporting her up against my mouth, as I pull the thong aside and fully reveal her.
I’ve gone down on countless women. I’ve never tasted a woman I didn’t enjoy, and I’ve never met a pussy that didn’t make me hard. But Kate … I don’t have words for the feelings I have when she is open before me, her thighs twisting nervously, the thin strip of her hair wet and matted with her juices, all of her exposed. I take a moment, my finger rubbing softly across her, and I look up, watching her mouth open as I gently roll the pad of my thumb over her clit, her body curving for more, her pelvis tilting, like an offering to the gods. I bend down and feast.
chapter 19
Her
The light from the fire makes him glow, a god with strong shoulders and muscular arms that pin me down as his gorgeous profile bends over me, worshiping my pussy with his tongue, his jaw flexing, the soft movement of his tongue tasting me in ways that are destroying my thoughts, my resolve, my sanity. God, all of the things I have envisioned, all of the talents I have imagined—every time that tongue peeked out of his mouth, every time I caught a glimpse of it—all my fantasies have fallen short to this, the look of him, the feel of him. He pushes his tongue inside of me and all thought stops, his fingers digging into the cheeks of my ass, his mouth as aggressive as his touch. I don’t need to wonder how I taste, or if he is enjoying this. I close my eyes, release every inhibition, and let his tongue destroy my senses.
When I come, it is the kind of orgasm that changes lives. The kind where my nails scrape his scalp, my feet flex through the open air, and my scream is so loud it is silent. I scramble for footing, for reality, and in the hundredth call of his name, I tell him I love him.
He pulls me to the floor, my limbs loose and free, and I watch as he removes his underwear, his cock bobbing free.