“Prego.But I must also thankyou.”
“Do you … um … do you still want to …?”My lips twisted.
Ugh!
Why was this so hard to say out loud?
“Doyoustill want to?”he asked.
“Yes … please,” I sighed.“I do.”Boldly, I turned onto my side and moved my hand down to the button and zipper of his jeans.I unfastened them and with my stomach in my throat, moved my hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs where heat and soft, wiry hair met my fingers.“Should I …?”
Should I, what?
I had no idea what to do here.I was basically a virgin.Yes, my ex-husband climbed on top of me and stuck his unwashed dick into my body more times than I ever cared to remember, and I had a child out of that, but apart from the fundamentals, I was a total noob.
Our wedding night consisted of Rufus pushing up my nightgown, pushing up his—because he slept in one of those long, white, old man sleeping dress things—and forcing himself inside of me.
That was how I first had sex, and that was how I had sex every time after.
Until I left him.
Until Gabrielle turned her husband and mine into the police, and I was able to finally get away from that hell—with the baby I didn’t know was in my belly.
Tom’s finger on my chin again pulled me from those terrible memories.“Bella, where’d you go?”
“Sorry.I’m just …” I rolled back over onto my back.“I’ve never done this.I don’t know what to do next.”I sighed.“Can you just get naked?”
Huffing an amused laugh, he stood up next to the bed.“Remove my clothes for me, Danica.”
“But I—”
“It will help.Trust me.Take off my clothes.Touch me wherever you’d like.You will not break me.”
That bit prompted me to glance up at him, and he smirked.
Helping me to my knees on the bed in front of him, he reached for my hands and brought them to rest on his chest, his pectoral muscles hard and defined beneath my fingertips.
I swallowed the lump at the back of my throat and inched forward on my knees, running my hands over his torso and growing more brazen with each pass until I reached the bottom hem of his T-shirt and helped him peel it off.He lifted his arms, exposing dark underarm hair.Why did that turn me on the way it did?Why did I want to press my nose there and inhale?
Was that a fetish?Did I have kinks?
With the shirt gone, I was left with his beautiful, olive-toned skin with the chiseled muscles, the faint scars and the twin Mariana trenches on either side of his hipbones leading beneath his jeans.
Okay,thoseI wanted to lick like an ice cream cone on the Fourth of July.Those were magnificent.
I continued to run my hands over his soft skin, with the light dusting of chest hair, speckled with silver strands.I brushed my fingers across his nipples a few times and noticed that, by the third pass, they were harder, tighter.
Leaning forward, I pressed my mouth over his heart, then peppered kisses, slow and gentle, across his chest.Brazenly, I flicked a nipple with my tongue, and the deep, barely audible groan that rumbled in his chest prompted me to move to the other one and do the same.
My hands made their way to his hipbones, and I pushed his already open jeans down.Light-gray boxer briefs did very little to hide what the good Lord had blessed him with, and the damp patch of what I assume was precum just below the black elastic waistband made my mouth get a little dry.
“Would you, uh … would you like me to reciprocate?”
He shook his head.“No,bella.Not today.”
I’d never actually given a blowjob before.Rufus had very vanilla, very linear ideas when it came to sex.Missionary, clothes on, and as quick as possible.As horrible a person as he was, I had to at least be grateful for that.He could have had some really sick kinks and been into long, exhausting, painful sex.When it came to living with such a horrible creature, I had to look for every silver lining I could find.
“How do we … ?”
