I realize then how much he’s needed to hear this. “I love you.” It’s not so scary the second time around because I know the words are the truest I’ve ever spoken and the emotion behind them the purest I’ve ever felt. “I love you,” I repeat, giving Mick my fragile heart and trusting him to keep it safe.
His mouth covers mine and I know only a momentary twinge of panic when he goes for my buttons again. If anything, my flicker of nerves is driven by the anticipation of his hands on my skin.
Seeming to feel the same anticipation, Mick’s passionate breaths pant a rapid staccato as he opens both layers and reaches around to my back to unfasten my bra. It’s nothing pretty or lacey. It’s the full support, functional kind. But I don’t have time to think about that when his palms slip beneath the loosened cups and mold themselves over my breasts.
I thread my hands into his hair as desire streams through me. I moan against his mouth, lost to the overwhelming sensation of his fingers coaxing my nipples into tight, hard points.
But the nerves sneak back in when he divests me of my top layers and my bra falls away.
Mick breaks the kiss. His gaze lowers to my large breasts, bare in the moonlight. He stares at me for so long without speaking, my chest knots with anxiety and the tapes start playing again. I put my heart out there. Now my body. And I don’t know what he’s thinking. “Mick?”
His eyes travel up to mine. “I’ve pictured you a million times,” he says, his voice hoarse, the emotion in it resonating inside me. “I’ve dreamed about you and written about you. But nothing compares to the real thing. You’re beautiful, Deeana Rae. Perfect.”
I know I’m not beautiful or perfect. Not like girls in magazines or even the ones he’s dated. But the heat in his eyes makes me almost believe it.
Mick skims his knuckles across my pouting nipples and a gravelly groan rises from his throat. “I knew they’d look like chocolate chips. I want to taste you.”
I close my eyes, expecting him to go right there. Instead, he presses his damp, hot mouth to my neck and slides his tongue along the pulsating vein, taking detours to my ears, to my shoulders, to my collarbone, burning everywhere he touches. When he finally reaches my breasts and bathes my nipples with gentle strokes, my whole body catches fire.
The feel-good noises crowding my throat escape my lips. “Mm…oh Mick…” He sucks one nipple deep into his steaming mouth and strokes the other between his fingers.
Alight with desire, I move my palms under his shirt and across his broad chest. He’s lean and athletic. There’s just a dusting of soft hair covering his toasty skin. With minimal knowledge of how the male body works, when my fingers drift over the pads of his pectorals and encounter his minuscule nipples, peaked like mine, my senses zing with the thrill of discovery. I imitate his motions.
As Mick groans, his hands crawl beneath my wool skirt. Aware, at least theoretically, of what he’s about to do, I tremble with a mixture of fear and excitement. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my tights and snags my cotton panties as well. I ease up to accommodate him, and he inches them past the curve of my hips. The tapes start up again as one hand moves between my fleshy thighs. Then shut off the instant his fingers slip inside the folds.
“Mick,” I moan, gripping his shoulders, seeking an anchor for the runaway pleasure.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers, as if pleased by my body’s eagerness, and drags his mouth back to my nipples.
In seconds, I’m breathless…mindless. I can feel the tension build. My inner muscles tighten. I grind against his rotating fingers, reaching for something elusive. Mick increases the pressure. And it’s right there. Like nothing I’ve ever felt. A volcano erupting inside me. My moans escalate and the moon outside the window blurs. I cling to him as hot tremors rack my body and shake me to the core.
When it’s over, I fall forward and rest my head on his shoulder, catching my breath.
He kisses my temple and wraps his arms around me. “You were incredible.”
I feel incredible, and forever changed. Not just from my first orgasm. Mick gave me so much more than that. I reach between us and press my palm to the thick bulge in his jeans, wanting to reciprocate the awesome pleasure.
“Dee…baby.” His breath comes out in a rush. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not expecting anything.”
“I want to.” I undo the snap and Mick’s stomach muscles tense against my knuckles.
I slide down his zipper, and the sound of metal scrapes through the quiet. He whips his shirt over his head and my gaze lowers to his torso. In the soft glow of the moonlight, I’m relieved to see there are no new bruises to scar his soul or mar his body. Defined ridges form a six-pack, and a narrow strip of dark hair starts below his inverted navel and disappears inside his white briefs.
In awe of Mick’s masculine beauty, I pull back the elastic waistband. His erection springs free and slaps against his stomach. For a moment, I gawk. I have no frame of reference, butwow! Mesmerized, my palm closes around his penis, finding it smooth as satin and hard as steel.
The erotic groan that thunders from his chest emboldens me, and I stroke my fist up and down his hot, heavy length. A tiny pearl of liquid pools at the top.
“Ah, Dee.” He pushes into my hand as I explore him. “That feels so good.”
I feast on the pleasure of watching Mick’s eyes glaze over and hearing his gusts of breath. Knowing all that desire is from what I’m doing to him rekindles my own fire.
I want more. I want that ultimate connection with him.
Driven by need, I place the wide crown of his shaft against my slick entrance.
“Dee—”A shudder travels up his hard torso. “Baby, wait…”
“No.” My voice trembles but not in fear. “I’m ready. I want this.”
