Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(8)

Her hands left my head, and for a moment I wondered if I’d gone too far. Her bra loosened—she’d been unfastening it, wanting more. Perfect. I dove back to her tit, reaching for the other. The loosened bra was still in the way, so I reached for her waist, pulling up her top. She held up her hands and I disrobed her from the waist up. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the glorious sight of her uncovered tits. They were full and tight and made for me. I cupped one in each hand, enjoying the weight of them, the way they were almost too big for my grip. A groan ripped through me. I moved her off my lap and stood. I wanted to get a better look at her.

“You are so f*cking sexy.” I kissed her briefly on her forehead as she watched me. Her arms went to her breasts, hiding them. “No. Don’t cover these. They’re mine.”

She giggled. “I think, biologically speaking—”

“They’re mine for tonight.” I pulled her arms away and grazed my thumbs against her nipples. “Let’s leave the cake for later. I want to taste you for a while.” I trailed my fingers down her back and led her into the bedroom.

She lingered at the door. “I just . . .” She shook her head.

I removed my shoes and socks and sat on the bed. “Talk to me. What are you thinking?”

“Well, all that stuff I said earlier. It was true.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to have been lying to me.” What she’d said had been intimate and somehow made her real. I’d hate for her to have been dishonest. I was sick of playing those same old tired games of cat and mouse with women.

She crossed her hands over her chest and looked at her feet. A memory of a feeling fluttered in my gut.

“Hey, we can stop and eat cake if you’d prefer.” Perhaps f*cking her wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had. She seemed vulnerable, as if she’d been broken and the glue was still setting on her repairs.

“I’m just nervous. I know it’s not like we’re ever going to see each other again, I just—”

“Darlin’, I told you I was going to make you see stars. The pressure is all on me. You just need to tell me what you’re enjoying and what’s not working for you. I promise, nerves are the last thing you’re going to be feeling. But if you’d prefer to just talk, then that’s fine. You can tell me what you were scribbling away in that notebook of yours.”

She gave me a small smile, cocked her hip, released her hands from her chest and shimmied out of her skirt. Jesus, she was every inch the fifties movie star. The rounded ass, small waist and, of course, that beautiful red mouth. “You’re a f*cking goddess. Get over here.” Hips swaying, she came toward me. I couldn’t help but focus on the scrap of lace between her legs. I needed to feel her there.

I pulled her between my knees and sank my tongue in her cleavage, licking up and down the juncture. She cupped her tits, pushing them together, and I almost came.

I reached for her underwear, tracing my fingers across the top. They were flimsy and I was impatient. I gave them a sharp tug, and as expected, they came free as if they were willing me on. Ripping off a girl’s panties never got old. Discarding them on the floor, I hesitated for just a second before touching her. I was a little nervous. It wasn’t a feeling I had very often, and never when it came to f*cking, but she was so goddamn sexy and vulnerable and she’d been so open with me. I didn’t want to f*ck this up. I wanted to make her first sober sexual experience special—somehow memorable.

She circled her hips, pulling me out of my own head, and my nerves disappeared. I ran my hand up her inner thigh; my fingers coated in her lust for me as soon as I reached her *.

Perfect.

Wet and sweet and, I was sure, tight as a glove. I withdrew my hand and painted each of her nipples in her own moisture. She gasped and gathered up her tits again, pushing them toward me, urging me to take them in my mouth. “Tell me what you want,” I whispered. I wanted to hear her need for me.

“I want you to suck it off,” she said, her voice breathy and ragged.

“Oh, yes, I think we’re going to be very well suited.” I liked a girl who got so caught up in what we were doing that there was no room for inhibitions, no room for outside crap to seep in and interrupt our pleasure. I didn’t know why she was nervous. She was perfect.

I bent forward and took her nipple in my mouth.

“Oh God, I’m loving that mouth of yours,” she said as her head fell back.

My hand went to my dick as she spoke. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to last if she was a talker.

I grazed my teeth over the puckered flesh and she bucked against me. She was so f*cking responsive.

I pulled her onto the bed and slid to my knees. There was something about being fully clothed while getting a naked woman off. Maybe it was a power thing—yeah, it was definitely a power thing.

I pressed my palms against her inner thighs, parting her legs for me. She squirmed, but I didn’t think it was embarrassment. It was desire.

I blew against her *. “Tell me what you want.”

She reached over her head as her back arched off the mattress. “I want your talented mouth on my *.”

Oh yeah, she was ready. I groaned and went straight to her clit. Her hips flicked up and I had to hold her still. She tasted delicious. I didn’t often go down on women, but I wanted Beth to relax, to understand she was going to enjoy tonight, that she needn’t be shy or nervous. She just had to give her body to me.