by Ward, Susan
Leaning down, he kisses me, quietly this time, his tongue dancing and playing, fucking my mouth in an unhurried thoroughness matching the glide of his hands on my body. He lifts my hair and his lips are on my neck. I’m impatient inside and he is moving slowly, agonizingly slow in this.
He places featherlight kisses along my jaw, my chin, and then steps back from me again. He pushes down his jeans, and his erection springs free as his pants fall to the floor.
I flush…oh my.
I’ve never seen him one hundred percent nude, not in a single dose, and he is fucking gorgeous, every inch of him lean, cut and tan. I never doubted that, but I’m more than a little intimidated by the sight of him because that part I’m pretty familiar with looks different in a complete, fully revealed package.
Somehow him standing above me, his desire for me openly exposed in full length, makes his cock seem even larger than I thought it was, and it’s so unexpected and hot that I don’t know how much longer I can remain still on the bed as he guides us through this.
“Why haven’t you undressed yet?” he murmurs, balancing on a knee, close to me on the bed.
I stare up at him. “Since you’re the one who’s got this all planned out, maybe you should undress me.”
“Really? You’re just going to lie back and let me do what I want to you?” He moans, lifting my leg from the bed and kissing his way down toward my foot.
“Maybe. It depends on what you want to do to me.”
“I want to do this.” His tongue swirls on the inside of my thigh. “And I definitely have plans for this.” The heat of his mouth behind my knee. “I want even your toes.” He pulls off one of my Converse and kisses along my arch to my ankle. “There isn’t a single part of your body I haven’t had a nasty thought about. You are so fucking beautiful, Kaley. I dream even about your feet and wake up with an erection.”
He takes off my other shoe and eases upward enough to hover over me. The loss of contact with his body makes me squirm with need.
“You dream about my feet, huh?”
“Oh yeah. Very nasty things, feet.” The corners of his mouth lift in sort of a blurred smile. “Do you dream about me?”
I suck in a breath.
I nod.
“What do I do to you in your dreams?”
I crinkle my nose. “Nothing with your feet.”
He laughs, husky and low. “No?”
“No.”
“What did you dream about last night? Don’t tell me you didn’t have a sex dream about me. I know you did. I could feel the pent-up physical frustration when you climbed into the car. You dreamed something. I did, too.”
And because I’m not the least bit bold at the moment, not with how he’s staring at me, my hands fist in his hair in a silent gesture meant to tell him what I dream about—not just last night, every night since he went down on me—and I’m not exactly sure where I want to bring his face when, on his own, he lowers his face to my lace-covered vulva.
His lips are demanding, heated and slow, as they wander from my cunt across my body. He starts unbuttoning my dress, and his eyes widen when he smooths it back to find my bare breasts. He nips his way across their rise and down my stomach to my navel.
His tongue swirls as my clothes are somehow tugged off me and then his heated breath stirs me through my panties one last time before he takes them off.
Reclined on a hip and propped on an arm, he goes completely motionless as he does a slow study of me from head to toes and then back up again.
I feel unexpectedly shy and a little anxious waiting as he does nothing but look at me for a very long time.
Shit, why doesn’t he say something?
Do something?
I’m really wet.
I’m pulsing in shockwaves down there.
Oh fuck, why doesn’t he start this?
“Do you like what you see?”
“I love what I see,” he whispers appreciatively, and my nipples harden just from the sound of his voice. “I could look at you all night.”
“You had better not look at me all night,” I murmur in agony. “If you don’t do something fast I’m going to melt before you get a chance to—”
His lips close around my nipple as his fingers tease my sex and then plunge into me. Both his fingers and his mouth go to work on me and I’m nearly convulsing. He blows gently on one rose tip, rolling it with his thumb, elongating it into his touch, as his fingers slip in me below, out and around, then back in again. Every nerve in my body is screaming with sweet agony.
My breasts swell as he moves back and forth between my hardened nipples, tugging and licking and blowing. His finger stills deep inside me and he massages my clit with his palm, and when my body arches up on the bed he takes one nipple in a hard suck that doesn’t stop.
Oh fuck. My legs are stiffening. Shit…I don’t want to come this soon. His teeth latch onto my nipple as his fingers fuck me below and I scream out, my body convulsing.
“Was that fast enough?” he asks before kissing me deeply, his tongue in my mouth muffling my cries. I want him in me now, but he hovers at my lips until my flesh quiets.
It was quick foreplay, but it was good, definitely enough to kill any apprehension about going all the way with him. I’m ready for what comes next, to feel him buried inside me as I give myself to him.
He eases back and I open my eyes. My breathing is still ragged, but he doesn’t reach for a condom. He starts moving down my body instead. He thrusts a finger inside me and I cry out again.
“You’re so wet. It’s going to be like drinking you instead of sipping.”
He moves between my legs, spreading them farther apart, and his mouth closes over me. Holy fuck. He just made me come apart and my body is heating up again. I didn’t know it could happen again so quickly.
His tongue flicks my clit, then sinks into me, teasing that inner hot spot.
Every thought in my head spins away.
There is only him, fingers and tongue, sensation and need. I’m arching again, grinding into his tending, and greedily taking every tantalizing stroke against my pulsing sex. My legs start to quake, my body tightens, my fingers curl around the bedding, and he doesn’t pull back as I ride his mouth harder and harder.
I come rough and fast against his face. I’m limp and panting. I feel him move. Through my scattered senses I hear the rip of foil and I catch a quick glimpse of him gloving his erection before his mouth claims mine and his tongue swirls in me so I can taste me on him.
He positions the tip of his erection against the entrance to my sex and starts making tiny, torturously controlled presses against my still pulsing vulva.
“You’re dripping wet and ready, but I still need to go slow, baby,” he whispers into my ear.
Each time he sinks himself a little farther in me before he pulls back to tease me with only his tip, until I moan and my body urges him to enter me a smidge deeper. He pulls back, his dick rubbing my swollen lower lips, and then slowly glides in and my lids fly wide as a sharp, weird sort of pinching sensation shoots through me as he plunges through my virginity.
He freezes, but every muscle from head to toe is trembling. “Oh God, you are so deep but very tight. Don’t move. Don’t touch me. I need to wait until I feel you soften again.”
Don’t move? How the fuck am I supposed to not move? I feel completely overfilled by him inside me, and even with the slowly dulling pain, the urge within me is to lift my hips and take more of him.
I wriggle beneath him and he stops me with his hands on my hips. His breathing is harsh. He’s groaning and shaking, but not thrusting.
He shifts his weight slightly and I open my eyes. His forehead is pressed against mine, and he’s fighting his body to the point that his features have contracted into a look of pure suffering.
I close my hands on his face, moving his head so I can spray kisses across his cheeks. “I’m all right.” My hips flex into him as I bring my mouth to his.
�
��I’m going to move,” he murmurs in a sweet, tight way that makes my heart swell and a laugh nearly escape me. “Just a little.”
A slow glide out and then deeply in.
I moan and arch up, the controlled moves of his body glorious torture.
“More,” I demand.
He pumps a little faster, harder, and I cry out, my body wantonly accepting him…and then he moves again, but this time he no longer pauses between the thrusts. Slowly at first, in and out, until I’m urgently meeting him, pushing our rhythm into something more frantic, and he speeds up, kissing me hard as he clutches my lower body into him.
I quiver and bow; a sheen of sweet gathers over us both.
His muscles tense.
It’s building inside him…and to my astonishment, I feel the climb in me again. Oh fuck…even with the infrequent twinge of pain, the unavoidable contact with a tender area inside my walls, I didn’t know anything could feel as good as this. Fire runs across my nerves. I am only sensation. He is whispering my name, thrusting hard, building and building with me.
“I love you, Kaley,” he calls out, and I explode with his words, tightening around him as I climax, my heart and thoughts in riotous disarray.
“Oh fuck.”
He rears up, his body going rigid as he empties himself into me. He collapses atop me, still pumping, but his body is slowing. His breathing is ragged and I can feel his pulse race.
He stills inside me. “Are you OK?”
His eyes are intense, probing and worried.
I lace my fingers through his hair. “I’m wonderful. I love you.”
He pulls out slowly and lies on his side beside me. “I love you, too, Kaley.”
He removes the condom and tosses it into a trashcan. I feel a little overwhelmed, a tad giddy, and all of a sudden unexpectedly shy with him.
“Oh fuck.”
I glance down to where he’s staring. There’s blood on the bed, the remnants of my virginity, and I flush—why does the bedding have to be white?—pulling the duvet over me and the bright red spot.
I make a silly face. “Well, that’s a sure sign my cherry has been popped.”
His lips quirk up in a half smile. “It’s also a fucking turn-on to see it. It’s going to be impossible to keep my hands off you the rest of the night.”
My eyes widen. “Then don’t.”
He laughs. “We need to take this slowly, Kaley. I don’t want to overdo it and end up hurting you.”
“Well, you better not be thinking that that’s the only time we’re going to do it while we’re here.”
He laughs, brushing the stray dark curls from my face. “Hell no. You’re getting breathers. That’s all. Get used to the fact we’re going to have a very sexual relationship.”
I sink my teeth into my lower lip. “I hope so.”
I turn on my side to face him and he eases down on his pillow, a hand beneath his head and his face close to mine.
“A very sexual relationship,” I repeat, kiss him, then pull back and frown. “Maybe. That is if you can explain to me how you’ve never had sex with a girl but know how to fuck a virgin right.”
Oh my—are his cheeks reddening?
I wait, demanding and impatient.
He exhales loudly. “Linda. She has been TMI in not so subtle wording on how I should treat a girl sexually since I was fourteen and she caught me in my bedroom slapping one off. Having regular sex lectures from my mother would have been totally humiliating if she didn’t know more about sex than practically every guy I’ve ever known and was no-big-deal about it all. My mom is like an encyclopedia. Definitely better than my dad. Even better than the Internet.”
Part of me wants to laugh in shock and a part of me wants to kiss him gently because I can see he’s a little embarrassed sharing this with me.
“Wow. I’ve never even had one sex talk with Chrissie.”
He makes a half pout and then starts lightly kissing my face. “Linda thinks it’s a parenting priority and she makes it inescapable. She said that she couldn’t stop me from being a guy, but she’d make damn sure I was a good one.” He touches my nose with his lips, laughs once, and then lifts his face. “Was I a good one? Was it all right for you?”
He stares down at me, how important that is to him not completely hidden within his shimmering green eyes.
I hug him tightly against me. “All right? I think you’ve ruined me. I can’t imagine anything better than what we just shared or ever letting another guy touch me. Not after you, Bobby. We’re perfection together. And, oh, definitely a very sexual relationship.”
CHAPTER 13
An unrelenting sensation between my legs coaxes me from a dream to wakefulness. I push back into the warmth behind me and realize it isn’t just my naughty subconscious getting me hot for Bobby again.
His warm flesh is all around me. His face is tucked beneath my hair, chin resting on my shoulder and his breath is tickling my cheek. One arm is around me, pushing up against my breasts, and the other is lying on the pillow above my head. The surface of his chest is like fire rocks against my back, my ass is tucked into the bend of his groin, and there is definitely something I want, hard and teasing, between my legs.
I open my eyes to find the room still dark and the candles burned low. It may not be morning, but I don’t care. I don’t know how long we slept, but I’m so ready to fuck him again. Very sexual relationship about to commence.
I carefully turn in his arms to find him fast asleep. The strong features of his face are relaxed, those delicious lips parted slightly, his sun-streaked hair a mess, and that perfectly sculptured chest barely moves from the soundness of his breathing.
I shake my head. What kind of guy has a body like that and has fucked only one girl at eighteen? No, not fucked. Made love to with such sweet care.
He’s so beautiful when he sleeps—no, Kaley, he’s beautiful always, inside and out.
I touch his cheek, happy he doesn’t wake. I thought I knew him so well before yesterday, but I don’t think I do. Maybe you don’t really start getting to know a guy until after you’ve had sex with him.
Something tells me I’ve not even scratched the surface of Bobby. But I definitely want to know everything about him. My heart is so hungry it feels as if nothing is ever going to be enough with him.
He’s so honest and intelligent—definitely fantastic in the sexual department—and good. It’s an underrated thing to be a good guy, as if being a jerk like Seth makes you the man. Not. Bobby definitely proves that one wrong. He’s definitely the dominant guy in this crew and he’s the farthest thing from jerk-like there is.
I slip my leg over his hip and ease into his body until his erection is back where it belongs. I could gaze at him all night—how could any guy look this good in sleep?—but I have needs.
I move into him further and place my lips on his neck, and the taste of him makes my body ruthlessly demand more. My mouth moves to his and I lift my pelvis up into him, flexing to stroke his erection with my more than eager clit. He starts moving against me—ah, that woke him—stroking my flesh as he changes the kiss, plundering me with his tongue as his erection starts pushing into me.
His breathing grows deep and ragged. He stops my hips and breaks the kiss.
“If this is not OK—if you’re sore—you better tell me now,” comes his breathy warning as he thrust his hips again.
I do feel something down there, the change in my body, a touch of soreness, but not enough to make me ignore the heat in my sex because most of all I can feel him.
He stills, waiting for me to answer. My lids flutter wide and he has that look again: feverish laced with tenderness and concern. Shit, would he really stop if I told him I hurt there? It’s not like it’s that bad…
I instantly close my mouth over his and that’s all it takes to get Bobby going in the direction I want him to. His tongue swirls around and around in my mouth and I’m losing all sense of self in his potent search at the apex of my thighs.
He slips a finger inside me as his mouth makes a rapid move to my breasts, the play of his tongue alternating with a blow of air between sucks and pinches on my nipple. A couple of teases of cock and I can no longer deny it. My body is his, crazy for him, and I want him in me, sore or not.
I’m panting and I hear his growling groans as his kisses start moving up my neck.
“Oh, baby, I love that you want this as much as I do.”
He does another tantalizing thrust against me and I shudder, vaguely aware that he’s ripping open foil. He breaks contact long enough to glove himself and then slowly eases into me. A twinge as he sinks himself deeply inside reminds me of my newly opened state but I moan because the feel of him filling me is too much and I want him to let go over and over again in my body.
I can’t imagine what it will feel like when Bobby really lets go. Over and over again until neither of us can take any more…
He starts to move, sweet and slow and gentle. I whimper.
“Is this OK?” he whispers raggedly.
Another cautious glide. My inner walls clench, sending a jolt down him. I make them tighten more and I feel his body go taut from the effort of holding back. Then he moves again, faster, harder and larger in me. It won’t take much to push him beyond his tightly leashed control.
I start moving more urgently against him, and we both lose ourselves in the demand of our bodies, our mouths devouring, our hands clutching and touching, his flesh plunging into me and me pushing him onward.
I’m so close to the edge.
“Come for me, Kaley,” he urges, his voice husky and raw as he pounds rapidly into me.
I explode around him.
“Oh fuck.” He moans then thrusts once, twice and reaches his climax, pressing me into him and holding me tightly against his shaking body.
He stills, his body rigid, and we both go limp and sink onto our pillows. I lie there, reeling from my orgasm as I watch him try to collect himself.
He adjusts me into his side, pulls off the condom, and lies quietly, eyes closed, gently caressing me. “I knew we’d be incredible together,” he murmurs. “But being with you is beyond anything I imagined it would be. I don’t even know what to call it.”
