I Love How You Love Me (The Sullivans #13)(52)

“Everything you’re wearing, Grace.”

The sensual command in his voice—one that had shocked her in the best possible way when they were making love—sent a rush of heat to the tips of her breasts and between her legs. “I’m wearing lingerie I think you’d really like.”

“I like them all,” he said in a raw voice that perfectly backed up his claim. “What does it look like?”

“Sheer white lace. Pink silk trim. Similar to what I had on Wednesday night underneath my dress.”

He groaned. “You’re so beautiful, you blow my mind. Can you put the phone on speaker without waking up Mason?”

“If I keep the volume down low.”

“Good, because I’m going to want you to be able to use both hands.”

Now she was the one groaning. “Dylan—”

“God, I love it when you say my name like that. Like you’re dying for me to touch you.”

“I am. I want you so badly.”

“Take off your shirt and imagine my fingertips grazing your skin, and then my lips when I can’t keep my mouth off you.”

She lifted up the cotton. But where it should have been the same thing she’d done a million times before, tonight she couldn’t get the image of Dylan taking it off out of her head.

“Tell me what you see, what you feel. Every detail.”

She’d never done this with anyone else, never played a sexy game of pretend on the phone. Had always assumed that she’d be too embarrassed to be able to get into it. But Dylan made it all seem so easy, so natural.

“I’m breathing faster already, just from dreaming of having your hands on me, and knowing that’s just the start of all the amazing things you’re going to do to me tonight.”

“Oh baby, you have no idea.”

She could have stopped there, knew he wouldn’t push past her limits, but she wanted to know that she’d made him feel just as good. “The sound of your voice, the feel of your hands on my skin—they’ve made my breasts so sensitive beneath my bra.”

“Jesus.” He blew out a breath. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. That I’ve ever seen. Touch yourself, Grace. Touch your breasts.”

“Through the bra…or out of it?”

“Keep it on for now. Tell me how it feels to have the lace scratch against your beautiful nipples.”

“Good,” she said on a gasp of pleasure. “So good.”

“Bare. I need you bare now, need to see, need to touch, every inch of your perfect breasts.”

She reached for the clasp of her bra. “I’m taking it off right”—she clicked it open—“now.”

“I’ll never be able to hear that sound again without getting hard. Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes.” She was whispering again, just loud enough for him to hear. “My breasts feel so full, so sensitive, like all you’ll have to do is run your tongue over me and I’ll explode.”

“Do you want me to be gentle tonight, Grace? Because I’m feeling pretty damn desperate, and I don’t know if I can control myself too much longer.”

“I love it when you’re gentle,” she told him, “but I also love it when you can’t help yourself and get a little rough.”

“Touch yourself the way I would if I were there with you right now. Like you’ve already made me lose control.”

She closed her eyes, and when she imagined Dylan’s hands on her, a little rough and desperate with desire, a new rush of heat flooded her. “I love it when you start to lose control. It feels so good.”

“You have no idea how good it feels,” he told her. “I could play with your breasts all night long. Would you want that, Grace? Would you want my hands and mouth on you for hours and hours?”

“Please.” She was nearly whimpering by now.

“Soon,” he promised, before saying, “now I want you to run your hands down over your ribs and stomach, appreciating every inch of your gorgeous body the way I would if I were there with you.”

She’d always been on the curvier side, and from the first moment Dylan had looked at her, and then when he’d touched her, she hadn’t had to doubt just how much he loved her body. “You always make me feel so beautiful.”

“The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he confirmed in a deep voice that resonated with need. “Undo the button on your jeans and then lower the zipper.”

The sound of the zipper coming apart had Dylan groaning again. “You have no idea how hot it is hearing that and knowing sheer lace is showing through. Tell me what you’re doing now. Are you touching yourself? Or are you waiting for me to tell you to do it?”

She knew by now how amazing, how hot sex with Dylan was when his hands, his mouth were on her. But what he was able to do to her with just his deep, sexy, hungry voice?

She could hardly breathe, hardly think, she wanted him so much.

“I want to touch myself so badly,” she admitted. “I need to. But...”

“You know that the anticipation of waiting for me to tell you to touch yourself will make it even better.”

“Yes.”

“You make me happy, Grace. So damned happy.”