The Private Serials Box Set(45)

He didn’t answer right away and I couldn’t feel any change in his body to my question, but I held my breath waiting for his answer.

“Someday,” he breathed against me, and my whole body felt lighter, as if he’d thrown me a life jacket in the middle of a raging river. I knew if he’d said no, I would have made myself leave eventually. There was no point in being with a man who didn’t want children – it was a deal breaker for me and it would have killed me to walk away from him.

“Someday,” I whispered back. It wasn’t any kind of promise from him, or even a suggestion, but it made my heart soar knowing I could spend time with him without worrying about that. I decided to change the subject and move on to something else. “Have you ever been married?”

I felt his head shake against me. “No. Never met the right person.”

“Never even came close?” I pried.

“I had a few long-term relationships, and one really serious girlfriend, but none of them ever made me feel like I needed to cement our relationship, you know? I never felt like I couldn’t live without them.” I felt his tongue dart out and flip against my earlobe; my body shuddered in response.

“Oh,” I managed. “That’s too bad,” I said, only because I was looking for words to fill the silence.

“Actually,” he said as he brought his lips to the skin just below my ear. “It’s f*cking fantastic. If I’d married any of them, I wouldn’t be here with a sexy-as-sin woman between my legs.”

And just like that my breath was gone from my body. My veins zipped with electricity, and I was wet. His hands slowly slid across my chest and grazed over my nipples, which were taut points, stretching to meet his touch, aching to feel his hands on them. As he palmed my breasts, my hands fell to his thighs and I gripped him tightly, arching my back and pressing further into his hands.

I moaned and my eyes closed as his fingers teased me through my nightgown and bra.

“This might end up being my favorite piece of clothing you own,” he said softly.

“Preston,” I begged, writhing against him. He’d ignited something hot and electric in me and it was burning me from the inside out. “Please…”

Without warning, his ankles hooked around each of my legs, splaying them open, spreading me wide on his couch. Then his hands grabbed my wrists and pulled them up to wrap around the back of his neck.

“Lace your fingers together behind my neck, Lena.”

I did as he asked me to, my chest moving up and down with my labored breaths.

“Now, don’t move your hands from my neck. If you do, I’ll find a way to bind you, baby, and I’d rather spend my time pleasing you than punishing you.” His ankles moved even farther apart, spreading me even wider. His hands brushed down my body, starting at my wrists, smoothing down my arms and grazing over my breasts. Then he pressed the palms of his hands on my sides and spread them over my hips, squeezing me gently, his fingers digging into my skin.

He gripped my nightgown and pulled it up, urging me to lift my hips so he could get it all the way up and over my breasts. He didn’t try to pull it over my head, but he did use it to cover my eyes, shrouding me in darkness. I shivered when I pictured what I must have looked like: splayed out on his couch, head covered, legs spread, breaths coming quickly.

I couldn’t see anything, so my eyes closed and I tried to listen for cues as to what he would do next.

I felt his touch start right between my breasts. One hand slid down the center of my body, in the valley between my breasts and continued down to my bellybutton. My breath hitched as he played with the hem of my panties, his finger just ducking under the elastic and tickling the skin there.

“Do you want me to touch you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” I panted immediately, wanting his hands on me, in me, desperately.

His hand moved lower into my panties, just over the neat patch of hair on my mound. “Here?” he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I shook my head back and forth quickly. He moved his hand down just a little more, still not close enough and I groaned in frustration. “Here?”

“No.”

“Where, love?”

My heart stopped at his words. Stopped, then soared, and then thundered again. “Lower,” I moaned.

“Show me,” he whispered against my neck.

I bent at the waist, raising my hips up to meet his hand, guiding his finger to the right place – the place that ached for him. My hands behind his neck gave me the leverage I needed to move in just the right way, so that his finger slid right over my cleft and I sighed in relief. “There,” I said, sounding terribly turned on and needy.

“Ah, I see,” he said as he sunk his finger into me. I cried out, the invasion so beautiful and intense. His one finger came out of me and slid up to circle my clit and I came off the couch, back arching, fingers digging into the back of his neck. “Fuck, Lena. You’re on fire.”

“Help me,” I cried, needing more from him.

“Always.”

With that, he pressed two fingers back into me, pumping in and out, aggressively finding a rhythm that had me panting, squirming, and moaning, all while silently begging him to both make me come and never stop touching me all at the same time.

While his one hand plunged fingers in and out of me, his other hand freed a breast from my bra and began pulling and tugging on my nipple. The two sensations combined sent me into a dizzying tailspin, and I was lost in it all.