His words lifted a weight from my chest. But I found myself thinking, now what?
Dean dropped his hands back to the countertop. And I absentmindedly traced a finger along the veins in the back of his right hand.
“It’s not like I wouldn’t want it eventually though. With you... I just need a little more time before we’d, you know.”
“Have sex.” The word sounded so much better coming from him.
Apparently, my body thought so too. A very subtle flutter thrummed low in my stomach, and I slowed the caress of my fingertip on the back of his hand. Whatever emotion or expression crossed my face at that moment, he noticed, cocking his head to one side as he watched me with curiosity.
“You know,” he began, still leaning into his hands. “There are other ways to get intimate without taking off clothes.”
Suddenly feeling hot and heavy all over again, I swallowed and said coyly, “Such as?”
His gaze darkened. “Touch is a pretty good start,” he said, bringing his mouth to my collarbone with a sweep of his tongue against my skin.
I tilted my head to one side as my eyelids fluttered, reveling in the feeling of his mouth moving to the dip between my shoulder and neck. “Where would you touch me?”
His teeth gently grazed my skin. “Wherever you want, if you want it.”
“I want it,” I breathed.
He lowered his voice and breathed warm air onto my skin. “Show me.”
As he continued leaving soft kisses against my throat, I turned my attention to his right hand again. Heart racing with more excitement than nerves, I lifted it from the counter and brought it to my thigh.
I felt more comfortable with this — where this was heading. It was a little less overwhelming than removing clothes, but equally arousing as I gently guided his touch up the inside of my leg. Leaving myself breathless as his kisses on my skin slowed and he looked down.
My hand slid to his wrist as I tucked his further beneath the bunched skirt of my dress, sucking in a breath when his fingers reached out and traced a delicate line over the center of my underwear. His eyes came to mine when he repeated the movement with a little more pressure, teasing me with just the fabric between us.
Aching to know how his skin would feel on mine, I brought his hand up to the underwear hem. When his fingers met the skin of my lower abdomen, I kept my eyes on his, losing myself in those silvery blue irises as I poured my trust into him.
“There,” I said breathlessly, releasing his wrist. “Touch me there.”
Dean leaned in, looking down at me as he turned his hand over. Watching my reaction closely, with his lips parted just inches from my own, he dipped his fingers into my underwear.
I sucked in a breath and rocked forward when he lightly stroked circles around my clit, tilting my head back as the heat between my legs spread through my system. He brought his mouth to my exposed throat again and slid his hand lower, pulling my underwear against the tops of my thighs before I hastily tugged them down. All reservations had gone out the window.
Goosebumps raised my skin and my breasts peaked against the fabric of my dress. I angled my hips forward. When he discovered what his touch was doing to me, he emitted a deep hum against my throat in approval.
He passed his thumb over my clit and teased my entrance with his fingertip.
A soft whimper escaped me.
“Is this okay?” he said softly.
“Yes,” I breathed.
Slowly, he slid the tip of his middle finger in, gently circling his thumb against my clit. I moaned quietly, rolling my hips against his hand as I eased him in further. He sucked at my throat, withdrawing that finger for one torturous second before he added another. Both slid in easily, despite the very subtle tightness, and I clenched around them.
He pulled his mouth from my throat to watch again; to watch as my chest rose and fell beneath my dress, my brows pinched, and my hips wriggled against him. And then to witness as he undid me from the inside, stroking his fingers against my walls as a tendon pulsed in his wrist.
My mouth parted but nothing came out. Instead, my back arched and I pressed my swollen clit to the ball of his palm. His fingers stroking deep, knuckles pressing into me.
“That’s it,” he coaxed.
The pressure between my legs was building quickly. I began to pant, bracing my palms on the counter as everything from my pelvis down tensed in pleasure. I spread my legs a little further, writhing for a release.
He separated his fingers, curling them in deep as his thumb pressed down firmly against my clit.
