He pulls back up, and my sweet spot sags with disappointment.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He sinks a kiss just below my belly then trails his kisses further south, touching down over the dark triangle of hair, then below that, and I give a heated breath, then lower still until his lips press into the most tender part of me, and every ounce of estrogen in me screamsYESbecause his rock star of a mouth just took center stage.
My head arches back, deliriously writhing into the pillow.
His tongue does a quick exploratory lay of the land, and I can feel him breathing over me. It sort of tickles in a deliciously sweet way. His teeth graze over me as he tracks lower, penetrating deep into me with his tongue, and I let out a fierce groan because, holy hell, Isowas not expecting that.
WOW.
I twist my head until I bite down into my pillow. Bryson Edwards is killing me in the most erotic way possible. It’s becoming painfully clear that I’m never going to survive this night. My heart is going to launch out of my throat at any moment because obviously I’m not designed to handle excitement of this caliber. Crap. I’m not even designed to handle a pedicure, what in the hell was I thinking climbing into bed with Bryson Edwards?
I have no idea how those countless girls he bedded ever survived the explosiveness of his lips, his body—the olive branch between his legs he’s so ready and willing to extend. I bet there’s some survivors group I can join after, that is if I manage to live through the endeavor, and we can all talk about how amazing the sex god of Whitney Briggs is in bed.
He runs his tongue along the slick between my thighs, and I groan as I grind my shoulders into the mattress. He lashes out over me until I’m clawing at the covers, scratching over his back, raking my fingers through his hair. His hand tracks down over my hips, and his finger finds its way inside me once again, this time with much more purpose and force behind it. His mouth remains steady over me while his hand pulsates in and out. I let out a fierce groan because it’s all way too much more than this girl, or any of her parts, can handle.
The room starts in on a silent spin. My head and chest build with incredible pressure. That small space between my thighs has become the entire focus of my universe as an invisible blaze consumes me from the inside out.
Oh shit, shit—shit.
“Bryson.” I lurch forward and spike my nails into his back. He plunges into me again with his hand and speeds up his tongue lashing efforts until I let out a scream that sears from my lungs, raw and urgent. “Bryson!” I lock my knees over his head half-afraid I’m going to crack his skull like a walnut, causing his brain to squirt into my lap. My body seizes and trembles until a dull ache rides through me, soothing and calm as the sea after a storm.
Bryson unleashes himself from the headlock and swims up beside me, his body slick with perspiration from the effort.
“You taste like sugar,” he pants through a smile, still out of breath.
“Somehow I doubt that. But I appreciate the thought.” I wrap my arms around him and press his sticky chest to mine.
“No really, you do. You’re so fucking sweet.” He tries to land his lips over mine, but I turn my head, deflecting his efforts to prove his carbohydrate-based theory. “I want you to taste it,” he whispers while gently turning my head toward him. He lands a kiss over me before swiping his tongue in my mouth.
It tastes metallic, honeyed like an exotic nectar. I let Bryson love me with his tongue in my mouth while his breathing picks up pace as if he were about to step out onto the frontlines of battle and this were our final goodbye. Bryson singes his honeyed skin over mine, and I moan, running my hands over his drenched back.
He leans up on his elbow and examines me with a look of contentment for a small eternity.
“You said my name.” He pins his cheek high on one side as he gently pushes the hair away from my face.
“I’m sure you’re used to hearing your name cried out in ecstasy,” I tease, pulling him in close by the small of his back.
“No one’s ever said my name before, and I’m glad. I only want to hear it from you, ever.” He sears another kiss off my lips, wet and juicy. Bryson reaches over to the nightstand and holds up a small foil packet. “You ready for round two?”
My stomach explodes in a ball of fire. “You think it’s okay? I hate to sound naïve, but the lower forty-eight clearly have a bottleneck issue.”
“Oh?” He pulls his lips to the side with a sarcastic flair. “Does that make these, Hawaii and Alaska?” He pinches each of my nipples in turn.
“Very funny.”
“What were we discussing again?” He growls it out with a touch of a demonic laugh.
“The Panama Canal.” I bite down over my lip before I start giggling like an idiot with no end in sight. It’s happened before, the giggling thing. It derails me from the task at hand, and in no way do I want to be derailed while in bed with Bryson.
“Switching countries are we?” His eyes hood low as if he totally approves of the spontaneous geography lesson. “And, damn.” He trails quick kisses to my belly and runs his hot tongue in a circle over it before dipping lower to the tangle of curls at the base of my body. “The Bermuda Triangle is just one of the many delicious destinations I plan on revisiting.” He looks up as the smile melts from his face. “For the record, I’m suddenly very fucking interested in cartography.”
I strangle out a laugh and pull him back up. “I don’t know about round two. I’d hate to land in a wheelchair just because I’m physically inept.”
“What?” He cinches back, looking more than slightly puzzled. “I promise, in no way are you inept. You’re perfect in every way, shape, and form. Trust me, I’m in love with much more than your landscape. I’m in love withyou, Baya—inside and out.” He opens the foil package with his teeth and holds it to me. “You want to do the honors?”
“Um…okay.” I take it from him and remove the sticky disc from inside.Gah. It’s coated with syrup, and my fingers beg to get the hell away from it stat, but the Pandora’s Box of abnormally small secrets that’s buried between my legs, begs for me to carry on with the endeavor. “This is sort of disgusting.” A laugh bubbles from me, but I mean every word.
“Like this.” Bryson guides me down over him and helps roll it out the length of his surprisingly oversized fifth appendage. I let my fingers run over the ridges before covering him with the sticky film.
