by Mima
The kiss was lingering, tongues softly exploring, lips opening and pressing together. He tasted like wine, fruity, a little dry, a woodsy bouquet. Lauren knew she tasted like mint because she’d popped a breath freshener on the drive over. She’d known this was going to happen and hadn’t wanted to taste like leftover fast food.
Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her hands flat against his back, feeling his shoulder blades, his muscle and bone through the T-shirt. Male. Hot. Need. Her mind clamored like a cavewoman. Lauren grasped the material and tugged.
Jordan broke off the kiss long enough for her to pull the shirt over his head and toss it aside. His shaggy, dark hair tufted in all directions and he pushed it impatiently back from his forehead. The gesture was unbearably sexy and boyish. Lauren slid her hands up his naked back, feeling each bump of vertebrae, and curved them around his neck, pulling him to her for another kiss. She plunged her fingers into the slippery, smooth strands of his hair, grasping and twisting them a little.
A soft groan rumbled from his chest into hers. He cupped her ass, pressing her even tighter to his groin, then slid his hands up her back to comb his fingers through her hair and cradle her skull. He progressed from soft brushes of his lips over hers to little nibbling kisses to deep exploring ones that went on and on.
Finally Lauren ended their urgent kissing, untangling her hands from Jordan’s hair and stripping off her shirt. His brown eyes glowed at the sight of her barely covered breasts. She wore a sheer, peach bra and black lace panties, and wished she’d had the foresight to stop home to change into matching underwear and clean clothes.
At least she had condoms in her purse. The fact she’d stopped to buy them revealed more than she wanted to admit about her intentions in coming here.
He rested his hand on her chest, palm flat, fingers splayed, his tan skin a contrast to the pale swells of her breasts. She hated that she was always so white. Porcelain, her mother called it. Chalky, Lauren thought.
For several moments, he stood there like that, feeling her heartbeat and probably other things she’d just as soon he couldn’t feel. It was unnerving that he could sense the insecurities she kept well hidden. Scary, but also oddly liberating, knowing she couldn’t hide them from him.
His expressive eyes penetrated hers. A small smile played at the corners of his lips—sympathetic, not amused. Beneath his hand and under his gaze, she felt the hard knot of tension that lived deep inside her begin to ease. Then he moved his hand to cup her breast while he lowered his head to nuzzle her throat. He pressed his lips to the hollow between her collarbones, and lower, across her chest to the plump cleavage the bra gave her. Without the push-up, she didn’t have a lot to offer in front.
As his soft lips and wet tongue moved over her curves, Lauren sucked in a breath. Reaching behind her, he unfastened the bra and pulled it down her arms. Her breasts bobbed free, small but still pretty perky at thirty-three. They were tender, swelling at the touch of his mouth, the nipples hardening when he swept his tongue over them.
She rested a hand at the back of his head and watched as Jordan’s mouth engulfed one tight, rosy bud. The tugging sensation shot a bolt of desire straight to her crotch. She shivered and thrust her chest toward him, admiring the curve of his black eyelashes against his cheekbones, the prominent nose outlined against her breast, the shock of walnut-dark hair tumbling over his forehead.
Her other hand gripped his upper arms, feeling the sinew of his biceps, the sleekness of his skin. Her eyes half-closed when he transferred his attention to her other breast, sucking it in and rolling his tongue over the nipple. Sparkles of delight filled her. Her pussy tightened and released, begging to be filled. She moaned softly and Jordan gave an answering quiet groan.
My God, he can feel me, knows how much I need this, how good it feels. The idea was exciting, as she imagined her arousal feeding and magnifying his. She could almost feel him too—not just his suckling mouth or fondling hands, but a warm glow of desire spreading from him into her. Was it really his emotion or just her own escalating yearning? Impossible to tell. Unnecessary to know. But she enjoyed believing he was touching her deep within.
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