A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime(73)

His hands come to my hips, guiding me toward his bed and I let him, not thinking. Not caring.

Once I lie back down on that bed with him, anything could happen.

Anything.

I end up sitting on the edge of the mattress, Crew standing in front of me, his erection stretching the front of his sweatpants, practically in my face. I stare at it. He’s so big. Thick.

I wonder what he wants me to do with it.

“Don’t look so scared.” His voice is low and growly and so incredibly sexy. “Tonight is all about you.”

I watch as he grabs the bag of popcorn and drops it on the floor, the bag tipping over, spilling popcorn everywhere. He doesn’t seem to care.

His focus is one hundred percent on me.

Before I can think too hard, he’s practically on top of me, my back against the mattress, Crew rising above me, darkly handsome, and all mine.

At least for tonight.

From out of nowhere, the lollipop returns, and he drags it across my lips. I dart my tongue out, licking it with enthusiasm and I swear I can feel his erection thickening against my leg.

“You’re talented with that tongue,” he rasps.

I laugh, heady power coursing through my veins. Then I give the sucker another good lick.

“I have an idea,” he says, reaching for the hem of my hoodie. “Let’s take this off.”

Panic slices through me, and I rest my hand on top of his, stopping him. “Wait.”

He takes off my hoodie and things will shift even more between us. Though they’ve already changed after what happened before. When he slipped his fingers inside my panties and stroked me until I was moaning, straining toward him like the weak girl I apparently am.

He goes still, his gaze finding mine. “I won’t push you. You know that.”

Fear trickles down my spine. I want to trust him. I did in that secret room in the library, when he had his fingers between my thighs.

“What do you want to do?” I ask.

“Take your shirt off. Your bra.” His gaze darkens the longer he stares at me.

I melt at his words, how simple yet effective they are. What he said shouldn’t sound so good, but it does.

Removing my hand from his, I nod, giving him permission.

He takes the sweatshirt off, pulling it over my head and tossing it aside. I’m lying there in just my delicate lacy bralette, my nipples straining against the thin fabric, my entire body growing hot when he stares at my chest.

Without warning, he bends down, dragging his mouth across one breast, his tongue darting out to lick the stiffened nipple over the lace. He reaches for the front of my bralette, undoing the clasp, and the cups spring free, exposing me completely.

He lifts away, staring down at my bared chest, his hands moving to shove the straps from my shoulders. I squirm out of it, pushing the bralette out of my way, breathing a sigh of relief when he returns his attention to my chest, his mouth everywhere, trailing fire wherever it touches, making me whimper when he pulls one nipple into his mouth and sucks it deep.

I’m lost to the sensation of his lips. Pulling and tugging. His hot tongue licking. Circling. He lifts his head from my breasts, the lollipop somehow still in his hand and he holds it toward my mouth.

“Suck it.”

I do as he says, giving it a good lick before he pulls it away, bringing it to my breasts, dragging the shiny damp candy across my nipple. Circling it over and over.

Then he drops his head and sucks my nipple back into his mouth.

Groaning, I shove my hands into his hair, holding him close.

He keeps up his torture as if he enjoys driving me out of my mind with lust. Toying with my flesh with the candy. Rubbing it against my nipples. Sucking and nibbling and driving me crazy. He pays so much attention to my breasts, I soon become restless, my legs working. Scissoring, trying to stave off the painful throbbing between my legs. I’m wet. Drenched from his attention, and when he finally reaches for the waistband of my leggings, I practically sob with relief.

Finally, I think.

“I’m going to do something,” he says like a warning, and I go completely still. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

When someone tells you not to freak out, you want to do exactly that. “O-okay.”

He lifts his head, his gaze meeting mine. “I mean it. It’s going to feel good. Trust me.”

I nod, closing my eyes when he yanks my leggings down my legs, his hands caressing my exposed flesh. They fall onto the floor with a soft plop and then he’s kissing his way up my body. The inside of my knees. The tops of my thighs. When his mouth lands on the front of my panties, I throw my arm across my eyes, the slightest bit ashamed.

But I’m also aroused. A flood of moisture escapes me, and I know I’m embarrassingly wet. I don’t even care, though.

I can’t.

The sucker is back in play. He rubs it against the front of my panties, pressing hard. “I’m going to take these off.” His fingers slip beneath the waistband. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

I don’t protest. I want him to take them off. I want to see what he might do next. I have no clue. This is all so new to me, and I have no experience. I’m surprised he hasn’t told me to stop because, surely, I’ve done something stupid by now.

He tugs the panties from my waist. I keep my arm over my eyes as he pulls them off, until I’m completely naked in front of him.