I giggled. “They’re Prada, Lane. They’re the furthest thing ever from shit kickers.”
“It doesn’t matter, they’re off now and I don’t plan on going back outside.”
Once again done talking, he climbed up my body and slipped his hands under my shirt, lifting it up and over my head before flicking off my bra. He unfastened my jeans with his other hand, then began tugging them off as I lifted my hips to help.
Traveling the full length of my body with kisses, Lane snagged my thong and pulled it off with one finger before settling his face between my legs. His warm breath teased me before his tongue swiped up my center, landing where I silently prayed he would. Then he slipped a finger inside me, his mouth sending vibrations straight through my clit, his beard tickling the inside of my thighs in all the right places.
I was burning up, ready to become a fiery inferno of orgasm, when he slid a second finger inside me. And then it burst through me. Flames were licking all around my body, and the only way to douse them was for Lane to dip inside me. But I didn’t want to put them out yet. I liked the sensation I was feeling and wanted it to last.
Lane moved back up beside me. He had trapped my arms above my head with one hand and was smoothing his palm up my side when I whispered, “Lane, I need something.”
“What, darling Bess? What do you need?”
“I need my hands,” I said, sucking in a breath.
Immediately releasing my hands, he said, “Did I hurt you?” with a pained expression.
“No, nothing like that.” Using his sweet confusion against him, I tipped his six-foot-two-inch frame over on the bed and worked my way down to his button fly.
One button, two, three, four, and I was shimmying his pants over his hips. He lifted his ass so I could tug his jeans and boxer briefs at one time, springing to life what I wanted. I felt Lane kicking his pants off his ankles and then they fell to the floor, leaving a very gorgeous and naked man in front of me.
I didn’t hesitate, just dipped my head and put my mouth where I wanted. Licking his full length, sucking on the tip, tasting Lane’s pre-cum, the fire continued to spread all the way through me. I was lit up from the very bottom of my toes to the top of my head. When I felt his hand on my head, not commanding, but suggesting a little more speed and pressure, I gave it willingly. Taking him deep in my mouth and sucking my way back up, I heard a raw moan come from the back of Lane’s throat.
“Bess, I’m gonna come, and I don’t want to yet,” he gritted out, now sounding a bit more demanding.
When I stopped for a moment and looked up, this time he took advantage of my confusion—flipping me off him and on my back so he could dive into my body. He was bare again. This time he didn’t notice, just started making slow, luxurious love to me. With long and calculated thrusts, Lane drew the burn out of me, leaving warmth in its path.
“Lane, you’re not wearing anything,” I said softly.
He paused and pulled halfway out. “Shit. Again,” he said, holding himself over me, hovering.
“I’m on the pill, and I haven’t been with anyone since us.”
He didn’t answer. His lips landed ferociously on mine, devouring me with a kiss. I wanted him to move again, but he didn’t.
Needing more, I lifted my hips, urging him on.
“Bess, wait. I’m kissing the fuck out of you right now.”
“I can tell,” I mumbled between the press of our lips.
He let go and stared me down while he was still hard and seated inside me, and I was going insane with wanting to feel him move. “You waited for me?”
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Me too, Bess. There’s been no one else. I tried to, but couldn’t.”
That didn’t even sting—well, maybe a little—but I knew all too well what it felt like to try to convince myself that someone else wasthesomeone for me. And I did more than try a year ago with AJ.
“I love you, Lane,” I said, the moment feeling right to return the sentiment.
And with that, he started moving—slowly at first, tenderly kissing me before the urgency rose once again. Then he picked up his pace, his tip hitting me in just the right spot. His hands slid back up, taking mine with his and pinning them above my head. I was like that—completely submissive to the man on top of me, baring my whole soul after he’d poured his out earlier—when my second orgasm ripped through me. It did nothing to extinguish the flames inside me ... it only stoked the fire.
We ended up kissing and making love and sometimes screwing for what felt like days.
At least, until dawn when Brooks finally whimpered to go outside.
