Bedding the Wrong Brother(20)
He saw her eyes widen at the hoarse command, but he was already frantically ripping off his shirt even as he kicked off his shoes. He unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down his hips, underwear and all, and left them on the floor with his socks. When he looked up, she hadn't moved. She was staring at his dick, a look of amazement on her face that made him swell even more.
“You're definitely magnum-sized,” she whispered.
He hardly registered the comment. He was a little bigger than average, but she'd have no trouble taking him. Grabbing her ankles, he pulled her toward him and reached for the bottom of her camisole.
“Wait—” she squeaked.
He pulled her top over her head and threw it across the room. Eyes taking in her lacy bra and the plump flesh filling it, he reached for her shorts.
“I want to see you. I want to touch you,” she insisted.
The shorts followed the camisole. Just as she had stared at him, he couldn't take his eyes off of her *. Holy crap, he thought. Who would have thought it?
“You've got a Brazilian,” he choked out as he reached out to caress the tiny strip of chocolate-brown curls.
She cleared her throat. “Actually, the girl who did it told me it's called a Metro Strip. She told me to go for a heart, but that seemed a little too silly given what we're—”
“Did you get this for tonight?”
She hesitated, then nodded her head.
He ran a finger through her pink, sweet flesh, parting her until his mouth watered. Pushing his finger inside her then slowly easing it out, he watched it grow more and more damp as he pumped it gently inside her. Her muscles clenched him, trying to hang on, sucking him so tight that sweat beaded on his forehead.
He dropped to his knees, shouldered his way between her thighs, and prepared to eat his fill of her. Quick as lightning, she reached out to cover herself, something that was hard to do with his finger still inside her, and he growled in frustration.
“This is supposed to be about your pleasure,” she reminded him.
That did it. Extracting his finger, he raised himself up, stared right at her, and licked her juice off his finger. When her eyes widened, he grabbed both her wrists, stretched her arms above her head, and leaned down until they were nose to nose. “You want to please me?” he breathed.
She nodded her head.
“Then this is what you're going to do.” He leaned down and kissed her neck, trailed a string of kisses to her ear, and then nipped at her earlobe before swiping it slowly with his tongue. “You're going to use your hands for one thing and one thing only. You're going to unhook your bra and bare your breasts. Then you're going to cup them. Your fingers are free to do whatever you want there. Tease your nipples. Pinch them tightly or gently. You do whatever turns you on. But you are not going to cover yourself from me. You're going to let me touch you and lick you and do whatever the hell I damn well please to please you, do you understand?”
“Is that…is that what you really want or are you just being nice?”
Laughing, he gentled his hold on her wrists and guided them to her breasts and the front clasp of her bra. “I want that more than anything in the world, Melina. I promise you.”
She stared at him, her hesitation apparent. Then she nodded and twisted the clasp of her bra so that her small breasts spilled free.
* * *
Had she actually thought her breasts weren't sensitive?
Even with her blurry eyesight, she could see him looking at them. Granted, she couldn't tell whether his gaze was complimentary or not, but with his erection still pressed strong and sure against her belly, she'd place bets on it being complimentary. At least her breasts were convinced of that. They were swollen and achy—the type of achy that was indefinable yet intolerable to ignore.
Instinctively, she raised her hands and cupped herself, smoothing her palms from her rib cage to the rise of her breasts, her breath catching as the light pressure caused her nipples to tighten even more. Closing her eyes, she moaned. She pinched her nipples. Moaned even harder.
“That feel good, baby?”
Her only warning was the puff of breath against her skin before a warm, moist suction covered one nipple. With both nipples still pinched between her fingers, he alternatively flicked one and then the other with his tongue, making sure to give particular attention to the sensitive skin between her thumb and forefinger. Unable to help herself, she grabbed his hair and pressed him closer to her. “Please,” she cried out brokenly.