by JM Stewart
“Sorry. I’m nervous.” He lifted a hand, his gaze following as he stroked his thumb along her lower lip. “I haven’t done this in a while, and you’re, well, you.”
She let out a quiet laugh. “That makes us even then, because so am I.” She lifted onto her toes, closing the gap between them, until her mouth hovered an inch from his. “Trent?”
“Hmm?” His gaze dropped, his voice taking on a distracted edge.
She flicked her tongue against his lower lip. “Shut up and kiss me.”
Whatever had held him back up until this point seemed to fray. The same man who’d always been reserved and almost docile in her presence growled as he claimed her mouth. His hands shook as he cupped her ass and pulled her hard into him, rocking his erection into her soft belly.
Lauren couldn’t stop a quiet moan from leaving her. God, it was only a kiss. It wasn’t even their first. Instead of tender and coaxing, he was fierce and demanding. Heat flicked along every nerve ending, lighting that ember in her belly to a full-body burn. Shivers chased each other over the surface of her skin, leaving goose bumps, and everything south of the border became a hot liquid mass of need.
When she wound her arms around his neck and pushed back, rocking her hips into the intense connection, Trent leaned his forehead against hers, his fingers curling almost painfully into the flesh of her ass. His breaths blew harsh and ragged against her skin. “I don’t know if I can be as gentle as you’re going to need me to be. If I’m too rough, I need you to tell me. You’ve never been shy with me before. Please don’t start now.”
Was he really afraid he’d hurt her? She opened her mouth to reassure him, but he furrowed his brow, halting the words before they could leave her tongue.
“Promise me.”
She rubbed the center of his chest, aiming for soothing. “I don’t believe for one second that you’d hurt me or I wouldn’t be here. Relax, Trent. I’m not worried. Neither should you be.”
His breath left his mouth in a rush, his shoulders rounding as the tension left him.
She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, then slipped her hand into his and led him out of the kitchen. She stopped at the edge of the living room and turned to look at him. “Here or…the bedroom?”
Amusement glinted in his eyes. “We should probably stick with the living room for now.”
She nodded and moved around the recliner that marked the beginning of the living room. The short walk to the sectional lining the far wall was the most nerve-racking one of her life. Trent followed in silence, but his gaze seared into her. By the time she came to a stop in front of his worn blue sofa, all the bravado she’d marched in there with deserted her.
She let out an uncomfortable laugh as she turned to him, flashing what had to look like a terrified smile. “I have to admit, now that I’ve dragged you in here, I haven’t a clue what happens next.”
One corner of his mouth quirked upward, and he hooked an arm around her waist, tugging her against him. “Well, it requires us to get a little closer.”
The hunger in his eyes made her insides wobble, but the press of his warm, deliciously hard body against her had the butterfly party starting in her stomach. Her hands came to rest on his chest, but the only word she could manage to form was “Hi.”
“Hi.” He grinned and leaned down to brush his mouth over hers, then released her, took a seat on the couch, and crooked a finger at her.
Lauren swallowed the lump of rising fear, braced her hands on his shoulders, and climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs. He sat for a moment, eyes heavy-lidded and filled with a heat that scorched her insides.
He slid his big, warm hands up her thighs to curl around her ass and tugged, pulling her tight against the hard bulge in his jeans, then caught her bottom lip between his teeth. “I need you. Too much.”
Clearly he was more nervous than she was, the thought of which relaxed the tight ball in her stomach. At least she wasn’t the only one with something at stake here.
She stroked her fingertips through the short hairs at his nape. “Tell me something. Do you like it rough?”
“Yes and no.” He shrugged, but heat flared in his eyes. “Sometimes a good hard fuck is exactly what you need. Wild and unrestrained.”
She had no idea if he meant his words as the tease they were, but a hot little shiver raked the length of her spine, settling in her damp panties. The meaning behind the words, however, told her a lot. “And you can’t do that with me.”
Trent cupped her cheeks in his hands, thumbs sweeping her skin. “Not yet.”
She leaned in, pressed her breasts against his chest, and brushed her mouth over his. “Trent?”
His gaze locked on hers, eyes blazing. “Hmm?”
“For the record…that thought turns me on more than a little. You pinning my hands above my head so I can’t move and shoving so hard into me the headboard knocks the wall.”
She closed her eyes as the image slid over her. She could almost hear the huff of his breathing in her ear, the slap of flesh on flesh. Her insides clenched in luscious anticipation and, unable to help herself, she rolled her hips, grinding against the bulge behind his zipper. Pleasure erupted from the point of contact, seeping over her nerve endings, and a quiet, needy moan escaped.
“God, that’s the stuff of fantasies.” She forced herself to pull back, because she needed him to know, to understand. “It’s important to me that you enjoy this, too. I don’t want you to hold back. If you get nothing out of this, then I don’t either.”
He let out a low, husky laugh and nipped at her bottom lip. “Oh, believe me, doll. I’m going to enjoy the hell out of you.”
Lauren rolled her hips again, grinding against him, and bent her head, scraping her teeth over the fleshy muscle of his shoulder. “Trent?”
A shudder moved through him, and his fingers tightened on her ass. When she pulled back, he had his eyes closed, mouth hanging open in awe. “Yeah?”
She leaned her mouth to his ear. “Then shut up and fuck me.”
Chapter Eight
Trent bit back a groan. God, she had to go and say that. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman as much he did her. He was shaking, for crying out loud. Having given himself permission to want her, taking steps to actually be with her was like opening the floodgates. What he really wanted was to rip her clothes off, to feel all that warm, supple skin against his.
But that meant taking his shirt off, and the thought made his insides shake. Outside of the doctors and nurses, nobody had seen the scars dotting his torso, healed wounds from the shrapnel they’d taken out of his skin. His right arm contained the scarred-over remains of the burns he’d suffered when the IED detonated. It wasn’t pretty. Would it bother her?
Oh, they’d have to get there sooner or later. He just wasn’t ready to do it now. He’d hoped they could take things slowly. One step at a time. So that when they actually made love, they’d be more comfortable with each other and it wouldn’t matter.
Lauren let out a nervous laugh and dropped her gaze, smoothing a hand over his chest. “I’m sorry. That was really out there. I got caught up in the moment. Steph told me once men like it when you talk dirty.”
Great. Here he was, too caught up in his own damn thoughts. Pull your shit together, man.
He smoothed his hands up her back, gathering her closer. “I’m sorry about my reaction. You just surprised me. I’ve never heard you talk like that before.”
Her mouth now inches from his, Lauren traced a fingertip along his bottom lip. “Is that good or bad?”
He skimmed his hands up her thighs and over the curves of her ass, tugging her the tiniest bit closer, so that she could feel for herself what her words had done to him.
“It’s good. Steph’s right. It’s a huge turn-on, especially coming from you.” She shivered, her eyes falling closed, and he bent his head, trailing his lips along the cord of muscle where her neck met her shoulder. “Tell me something. Is that what yo
u want? To fuck?”
A soft, serrated breath left her, and her fingers curled, nails scraping his skin as she fisted his shirt in her hands. “I honestly don’t know. You said you wanted to go slow. I liked the idea, but…”
The hesitation in her voice stopped him. He lifted his head and stroked his thumb along her cheek. “But what? Be honest with me.”
Her eyes opened, heavy-lidded, full of a desire that still filled with him awe to see. “But I’m really out of my element with all of this. I don’t know where to start or where to touch you.”
He was every bit as lost as she was when what she really needed was someone to take charge. Firm in the thought, he pulled up the Navy SEAL. The side of him that knew what to do and wasn’t afraid to take charge. Then he slid his hands up her stomach, skimming the undersides of her breasts.
“For what it’s worth, I thought we’d start with kissing and then take it from there. Keep the clothing on. For now at least.” He arched a brow, aiming for playful. “That okay with you?”
She blinked at him. “A first step.”
“Exactly. As for where to touch me, that’s completely up to you. You told me recently you think about me when you’re alone at night. What do you imagine?”
Lauren rolled her eyes, the flush in her cheeks deepening. “I told you that because I was angry with you.”
He couldn’t help his grin. She hadn’t a damn clue telling him that was a fantasy he’d pondered a lot over the last nine months.
“I like the thought of you touching yourself while thinking of me. I think about you, too.” He leaned in, catching her bottom lip between his teeth. “Now answer the question.”
She drew a shaky breath, her gaze flicking to his, hot as hell itself. “Think about me how?”
He swallowed a groan. He was going to come in his jeans before this night was over. That question right there, along with the hooded desire in those gorgeous eyes, only served to add fuel to the flame raging through his blood.
“This. All of it. Your warm, soft skin against mine. The taste of your breath. What part of your body’s the most sensitive.” He skimmed his hands up her thighs again, letting his thumbs graze her heat. “I often find myself with my cock in my hand, wondering what sounds you make when you come.”
A full-body shudder moved through her, a quiet, shaky breath leaving her. “God, that’s so damn sexy.”
His fingers flexed against her thighs with the frustration winding through him, with the effort it took not to touch. He drew a breath and forced his fingers to relax. “Answer the question, doll. How?”
This time she held his gaze, bold as brass. “I think about you at night, when I’m lying in bed and I can’t sleep. Thought about you just last week, actually. And my hands wandered into my panties.” She glanced down, fingers skimming the hairs on his arms. “I like to imagine your hands. I don’t have any reference for sex, or what it should feel like, but you have fantastic hands. I like to imagine that it’s your fingers touching me instead of my own.”
A deep groan finally made its way out. He dropped his head back against the sofa, unable to resist sliding his hands to her ass and tugging her the slightest bit closer. Until he was sure he could feel the moist heat of her against him. “You’re killing me here, you know.”
Her hands stopped moving then, coming to rest over his pecs and burning his skin through his shirt. Those eyes filled with mischief, one corner of her mouth quirking upward as she leaned into him, pressing her breasts into his chest. Her nipples were hard as diamonds, and her warm breaths whispered over his mouth. “You did ask.”
He rolled his eyes and parroted her earlier words. “So I did. Now shut up and kiss me.”
He meant the words as a tease, but her soft smile faded. She studied him for a moment, gaze working his face. That sweet, fiery tension filled the air around them, until he was dragging in labored breaths, his heart hammering an erratic beat.
She leaned in, brushing a timid kiss across his mouth. He let his hands wander up her back, smoothing slowly over her as he luxuriated in the simple ability to touch her, to feel her body. He was content to let her take her time and kissed her back the same way, a tangle of lips, a flick of his tongue.
Whatever nervousness they’d begun with slowly evaporated. She let out a soft moan and tilted her head, her soft lips slanting over his. Her mouth opened, and damned if he could resist flicking his tongue out to taste her. When she reached back, a needy groan ripped out of him. He gripped her head in his hands and pulled her to him. Shaking now with an unquenchable thirst, he spent long minutes drinking her in, drowning in the hot, heady wetness of her mouth.
Lauren gave as good as she got. Her fingers slid into his hair and curled against his scalp, the pressure of her lips against his almost brutal and desperate. Soft mewling noises emanated from the back of her throat, hungry sounds that only increased the ache in his jeans.
All the while she rocked into the pulse of his erection. Her breathing grew rapid and shallow, becoming an erratic huff in between sips and tastes. Every brush of her heat against him shot pleasure to his fucking toes. He needed to slow down. Like hell would he come in his jeans, as if he were some inexperienced kid.
Nor could he force himself to stop her. The quiet mewling became a series of desperate moans that filled his soul. He needed her pleasure. So he skimmed his mouth along her shoulder. Licking. Sucking. Scraping his teeth lightly over the skin exposed by the scoop neckline of her top. He dragged his fingertips up her sides and curled his palms around her breasts. She was a delicious little handful, and her nipples strained against the confines of her bra. He couldn’t resist flicking his thumbs across the tightened tips. She rewarded him with another needy moan and pressed closer, pushing her breasts into his hands.
Her every reaction made his chest swell in triumph. He was the first man to ever touch her this way, which made her feel a little too much like his. Every soft shiver fueled the need burning through him to make this good for her. He wanted her to leave their time together glad she’d experienced it. He wanted to fulfill every single one of her fantasies in a way that was starting to scare the hell out of him.
When she began to tremble in his arms, her thighs shaking on either side of his hips, experience told him her orgasm was close. He turned his head and nuzzled her earlobe. “Let it go, Lauren. Come for me, doll.”
Hands braced on his chest, she shivered and pressed closer. It was almost painful how good it felt. Two layers of thick denim separated them, but he swore he could feel her moist heat sliding along his length as she ground herself against him.
He tried to focus on her, kissing and stroking every part of her he could reach. But every time she rocked into him, his erection strained against his jeans and pleasure erupted over his skin. He hadn’t been with a woman in almost two years, and two years of need built on top of his yearning for her.
So he gave in and simply buried his face in her neck. The musk of her perfume filled his nostrils every time he inhaled. Hands on her ass, he pulled her to him, thrusting against her in time with her own, reveling in the almost unbearable pleasure shooting along his nerve endings every time she ground against him.
“Trent…” That was all the warning he got. With a soft gasp, Lauren dropped her head back and began to shake quietly in his arms. The fluid rocking of her hips became an erratic jerking as her orgasm took over.
Trent froze, awed by the sight above him: her brow furrowed in sweet agony, her soft mouth hanging open in bliss. She didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even sure she breathed, but holy God damn it had to be the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
By the time she collapsed against him, he was spent and exhausted, and he hadn’t even come.
Lauren panted into his neck, her body limp in his arms. “That was incredible.”
Shaking right along with her, he wrapped his arms around her back, crushing her to him, and kissed her shoulder. “You’re incredible.”
They s
at for some time in companionable silence. He was content to simply hold her, stroking her back.
When her trembling lessened and her breathing returned to normal, she finally stirred against his throat. She tilted her head and kissed his neck, then wound her arms around his back. “Can I ask you something? It’s kind of a stupid question.”
He let his fingers follow the delicate curve of her spine. “There are no stupid questions.”
“I wanted to ask if it was good for you, but then it occurred to me. You didn’t come with me, did you?”
“No.” Not that he was sorry for it. If he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man. He’d gotten to watch her come undone and know he’d been the one to put that bliss on her face. It made him want to beat his chest like a freakin’ ape. He was shaking with the overwhelming desire to make her do it again as many times as he could before her body simply gave out. “I make a bigger mess than you do. Besides, it wasn’t about me just then.”
She lifted her head, brow furrowed, eyes pinning him to his spot. “This is supposed to be mutual. It doesn’t work for me if you get nothing out of this.”
He bit back a laugh. She really had no idea. “Believe me, doll, I got plenty out of that. You’re damn beautiful when you let yourself go.”
She studied him for a moment. Decision apparently made, she reached for the button on his jeans, popping it free, and slipped her hand into his pants. Her supple fingers slid along his cock and curled around his length, her palm warm and soft as it ghosted over his flesh.
“Fuck.” He closed his eyes, dropped his head back against the sofa, and gave himself over to her. He hadn’t been touched by anything other than his own damn hand in almost two years, and her fingers were the closest to heaven he was sure he’d ever get.
When he stopped resisting, she curled her hand more firmly around him. Very quickly, she gained a rhythm, her hand moving at a speed that flat-out amazed and awed him. Every stroke sent heat prickling along the surface of his skin and pleasure spreading like wildfire.
