Much Ado About You(65)
Oh my God, this man. “Are you even real?”
He chuckled and squeezed my ass, bringing me closer against his throbbing body. “What do you think?”
I moaned and reached for his mouth, nipping at his lower lip and then frowning when he let go of my ass to ease away from me. Amusement danced in his eyes at my consternation. “It’s good to know you want me too, angel.”
“Have you ever doubted it?”
He considered this. “When I tried to kiss you and you pulled away . . . aye, I doubted it.”
Guilt suffused me. “Roane, I didn’t pull away because I didn’t want you. I just . . . I didn’t come here expecting to find you.”
“But now that you have?”
I moved back into his body, sliding my hands to his front to caress his chest, my thumbs catching his nipples. His lashes fluttered, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing. “I want you to make love to me. Then after, I’ll want that fucking you mentioned.”
He grabbed me near the ribs, his squeeze almost bruising as he huffed, “You trying to speed things up, angel?”
I ran my fingertips down his happy trail. “No,” I confessed softly as I followed the line of his waistband, feeling his stomach ripple with my touch. “I like the way you savor me.”
Gaze hot and tender, Roane gave me an almost imperceptible nod before he reached around to the back of my bra. With excruciating slowness, he unhooked my bra and began to tease the straps down my arms. The cups caught on my nipples, and my breathing faltered as he seemed to become mesmerized by the sight. He gave the straps a slight pull and the bra fell away, dropping to the carpet with barely a sound.
Roane curled his hands around my upper arms, easing them from my side. My breasts weren’t delicate or perky. I suffered from the problem of side boob a lot, but if a guy was a breast man, then he usually liked what he saw.
Roane was clearly a breast man.
His hands tightened around my biceps while he devoured me with his eyes. My nipples peaked under his perusal, tight, needy buds that begged for his mouth. For his tongue.
He made a guttural sound in the back of his throat as he reached up and cupped me with both hands. My legs trembled so badly, I felt my knees give a little, and I arched into his touch with a moan. His calloused thumbs caught on my nipples, strumming and pinching them as he played with my breasts, sculpting and kneading. Arousal rippled deep and low inside me. Seriously, I couldn’t remember ever being this turned on in my life.
What was he doing to me?
“Roane,” I begged, “please—” I was cut off by his mouth crashing down on mine. This kiss was different. It was rough, desperate, greedy as he pinched both my nipples between his forefingers and thumbs. I bowed against his touch, breaking the kiss to gasp for breath. “Roane . . .”
Could I come like this?
I felt like I might.
However, suddenly Roane was no longer touching my breasts but bending to lift my left foot. I grabbed his shoulder for balance as he tugged off my Wellies one by one. And then he was fumbling for the zipper on my shorts. I shuddered with desire as he curled his fingers into the waistband of my underwear and pulled it down my legs along with my shorts. As I stepped out of them, he pressed a kiss between my legs, his beard tickling me, but it was so quick, I barely even had time to register it. Trembling with need, I stood, naked, as Roane stared at me like Christmas had come early. He kicked off his own boots, unbuttoned his jeans, and lowered his zipper before removing them along with his boxer briefs. After he kicked away his jeans and underwear, he gazed at me, a small smile on his lips, completely unabashed by his nakedness.
And rightly so.
Talk about epic.
His muscular calves, strong thighs, and the impressive erection saluting me from between them caused another hard flip in my lower belly. I bit my lip to stop another moan and then lifted my finger and made a circular motion.
Roane let out a huff of laughter, that adorable flush of red cresting the tops of his cheeks, but he did as I requested and slowly turned.
His ass.
My God, his ass needed to be immortalized in sculpture.
He turned to face me and smirked. “Happy now?”
I shook my head. “I won’t be happy until I’ve kissed every inch of you.”
His nostrils flared. “I know the feeling, angel.” He stepped back and sat on the bed. “Come here.”
I’d barely taken two steps toward him when he reached out to grasp me around the waist. Then he guided me to straddle him, his arousal hot against my stomach. My fingers curled into his strong shoulders as he smoothed his hands up my back.
He was such a tall guy that he made me feel feminine, almost delicate, when most men made me feel the opposite. My gaze wandered from his lips to his eyes, and my breath caught. There was so much emotion in his eyes. Desire, need, yes, but something more. Something beyond even tenderness and affection, and it made my chest feel full. Too full. Almost painfully so.
“Roane?”
He slid his hand along the back of my neck, and I felt him pull on the band holding my hair in a ponytail. It had barely begun to fall down my back when he slid his hand into the masses, tangling in it to grab a handful. Then he gently tugged my head back, arched my chest, and covered my left nipple with his mouth.
I gasped as the touch scored down my stomach to between my legs, and as he sucked and licked at me, my hips began to undulate, searching for satisfaction. Tension coiled between my legs, tightening and tightening as he moved between my breasts. My fingernails dug into his shoulders. I was going to come. He’d built me up with his slow seduction, and now I was ready for release just from his mouth on my breasts.