Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(66)
“True.” He tossed aside the e-reader and curved his hand around my hip. “Was thinking, some of the books said yoga was great through maternity and preparing to give birth and all. I remember you saying you liked doing it but didn’t have a lot of time or money when you were studying. So—and don’t get pissy at me here, ’cause you don’t have to do if you don’t want—but I thought it might be nice if you and Lena had a specialist instructor along, to work with you whenever you felt like it.”
My mouth fell open. “You did?”
“Jim said Lena would be into it, and I thought you might enjoy it. But it’s your call,” he continued. “Oh, and Jim said to especially point out that in no way is this me worrying about the size of your ass or something, ’cause it’s not. I think your ass is awesome. If it gets bigger, that just means there’s more of it for me to play with. I just wanted to do something good for you, and I know being on tour gets a little bit boring sometimes. And I thought—”
I alleviated his concerns by straddling the man and kissing him good and hard. And then I kissed him good and hard some more because he’d thought of me. No matter that he’d been off doing his thing, totally unrelated to me. At some stage of the day I’d been on his mind. I mattered to him. Proof of this was just about the sweetest thing ever.
Breathing heavy, my boyfriend gave me a slow grin. “You like the idea.”
“I love the idea. Thank you.”
“Tomorrow I’ll take you shopping myself, okay? Promise.”
“Okay.” My chest filled to overflowing with warm and fuzzy feelings. Every last little bit of emotion inspired by him. We were going to make it. We were. Him, me, and Bean would be the best family ever. Our baby girl would never doubt she was loved and looked after.
“I really am sorry about my sister today, sweetheart,” he said. “No f*cking way should you have had to deal with that shit.”
“I don’t want to talk about her right now,” I said, climbing down his long body.
“No?”
“Nope. I’m hungry.” I buried my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him. God help me, Sam was right. I was in love with this man. I could put off saying the words and deny it all I liked. The truth, however, wasn’t going anywhere. Slow. If we just took it slow, this could really work.
“What do you feel like? I’ll order you up some room service.”
“You.”
“Me?” His voice dropped by at least an octave.
I kissed first one flat brown nipple then the other, taking turns flicking my tongue across each. “Mm-hm.”
With the aid of my feet, I pushed down the sheet, shuffling slowly lower and lower. The line of each rib and the curve of each muscle. The indent of his belly button and those lines on either side, leading out to his hips. Soon enough I was face-to-face with his hard-on, which was straining the black cotton of his boxer briefs. I swear the man’s eyes were on fire, watching me do my thing.
Nothing was said. But then, nothing needed saying.
A large candy skull tattoo decorated his left side, the detail and colors amazing. Lines from an old Led Zep song covered his right. The man was a walking work of art.
He ever so helpfully raised his hips so I could slide his underwear halfway down his muscular thighs. I’d never really stopped and reflected, really gotten up close and personal in this manner with his cock. A damn shame. He was thick and long and ridged with veins, the wide, flat head just calling to my tongue. For now, though, I ran the flat of my thumb over the silken skin, feeling out the ridge and indent where the sweet spot sat.
Ben inhaled hard when I massaged it, his rib cage standing out. Man, he was beautiful. His vibrant eyes and the lines of those cheekbones. His perfect mouth and that beard. Whoa, that beard. The things it could do. If the man ever shaved it, I wasn’t putting out till it grew back.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, voice barely above a rumble.
I tightened my grip on his dick, enjoying the feel of him so smooth and hot against my palm. I pumped him once, twice. “Nothing.”
“You know, you act real nice, but you’ve got a bad girl streak in you. I like it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nice and slow I bent over, dragging my tongue across the flat head of his cock. Mm, salty pre-cum. Yummy.
“Playing with me like this, for starters.”
“You don’t like this?” I traced the ridge of his dick with the tip of my tongue before digging in deep to his sweet spot. The head fit into my mouth just fine—all the better to suck at him.
“Fuck,” he hissed, hips bucking, forcing himself further in.
I drew on him hard, sucking and slurping his thick cock, making a meal of him. There’d been no lie in me, I really was hungry. And pleasing my boyfriend was number one on the menu. I took him in as deep as I could go, trying to get my jaw slack. This would really require practice, given his size. Somehow, I doubt he’d mind.
On my hips above him, wearing only a thin tank top and panties, I gave him my all. If my technique was messy or somewhat technically lacking, Ben never mentioned it. I dragged my tongue back and forth up the length of him, tracing the veins and teasing the ridge. Then I opened wide and took him as deep as I could. Probably wasn’t much, but what I could take I made count. It was definitely one of those occasions were suction equaled love. Lots of love. The salty taste on my tongue and his moaning and the words of praise filling my ears confirmed this.