Truly, Madly, Whiskey(58)
“How hard can it be?” She laughed and dropped her face to his stomach, laughing harder. “I mean, how difficult can it be?”
He sat up, and she pressed her hand flat against his chest, pushing him back to the mattress. “Don’t you dare move. What’s that song? ‘Candy Shop’? I’ll just lick it like a lollipop.”
“Christ,” he mumbled. He grabbed her under the arms, and in one swift move she was under him and he was kissing her until her laughter turned to sexy, needful pleas.
She tugged at his briefs. “Off, Bear,” she said between kisses. “Take them off.”
He pushed his briefs down and kicked them to the floor. Feeling her soft skin against him was almost too much to take. He knew what he had to do. To back off, to hand over the reins completely, but as he moved over her, her fingers grasping at his back, he was powerless to stop kissing her. He wanted to disappear into her.
Love bubbled up from deep inside him. “Baby.” He kissed her again. “This is enough for me.” He kissed her shoulder. “You’re enough for me. Just like this.”
CRYSTAL STRUGGLED TO contain her emotions as she lay beneath Bear. He was falling for her. She wanted to hear him say it again and again.
“Then let me show you how hard I’m falling, too,” she finally said.
She pushed him onto his back, drinking in his tempting physique. He was broad and hard-bodied, but the depth of emotions staring back at her softened all her biker boy’s rough edges. As her eyes drifted to his hard length, rooted among a nest of dark hair and reaching up to his belly button, her heart thundered to an erratic rhythm. She was nervous, but not because of what she wanted to do, or even because of her lack of experience. She was pretty sure there wasn’t any way her mouth would not feel good on him. Her nerves were born from the profound emotions she felt for him. The fact that she was sitting on his bed naked, wanting to love him with her mouth, was, in her mind, as intimate as intercourse.
He reached for her hand. “Sugar,” he said softly, drawing her eyes to his.
Lord. She could drown in his loving eyes.
“No pressure, babe.” He patted the bed beside him. “Lie here, and let me hold you.”
His unconditional affection gave her the courage she needed to allow herself to grasp the brass ring. “I will. Soon.”
She pressed her lips to his stomach and kissed her way lower, wrapping her fingers around his thickness. She didn’t think about right or wrong, or the things she’d read about how to touch a man. She didn’t think at all. She let her heart lead as she slicked her tongue from base to tip, tasting his warmth, the salt of his skin, and reveling in the groans she elicited. She licked the broad head and around his swollen glans, feeling his restraint in the rigidity of his body, and slicked her tongue along the length of him again, getting him nice and wet so she could stroke him with her hand. When she took him in her mouth, he moaned, and his hips bucked off the mattress, but he stopped short, and she knew he caught himself for her benefit. She loved him with her hand and mouth, feeling him swell within her grasp. She was aware of everything: his potent male scent, the rigidity of his arousal, his quickening breaths.
“Baby, baby, baby,” he pleaded.
She sped up her efforts and felt his hand cup the back of her thigh. His fingers brushed over her sex, sending electric currents racing through her. She was lost in their rhythm, vaguely aware of his body shifting, his hands lifting her.
“Straddle my face, baby,” he said, and she did.
And then his mouth was on her and she was at the perfect angle to take him in even deeper. She explored, licking his shaft, around his sac, his inner thighs. He ate at her sex even more voraciously with every slick of her tongue.
“Squeeze me tighter,” he said urgently. “Near the head.”
She did, reaping the same benefits and loving that he told her what he liked. She squeezed and licked, sucked and stroked, writhing from the exquisite pleasure he was bringing her. Her legs tingled, and she worked him harder, faster, wanting more of him. Wanting him to come with her.
He groaned, a loud torturous noise that caused her to rear up.
“Did I hurt you?” Oh God, how embarrassing.
“No,” he panted out. “You’re going to make me come. Just use your hand. You don’t have to…”
She was not going to miss out on experiencing all of his passion.
“Come with me,” she said, grinning as she took him in her mouth again, so deep she felt him hit the back of her throat.
“Baby, baby—”
He clutched her thighs and did something with his tongue that sent her over the edge, oblivious to all sense of time and space as he let out a wild groan and the first salty jet of his release shot down her throat. She nearly choked, but she swallowed it down, feeling the warmth coat her throat with each thrust of his hips as her own orgasm tore through her in a series of earth-shattering quakes.
Her legs trembled as she shifted off of him. He gathered her close, easily turning her as if she were part of him, and wrapped his strong arms around her. He smelled like her, his beard still wet with her arousal. The taste of him lingered on her tongue, but nothing could stop the hypnotic pull between them. Their mouths fused together, their tastes mingled, salty, warm, and oddly satisfying. His thigh came over hers, and he took the kiss deeper, like he wanted to seal in the moment. To claim it and never let go.