“If that’s what you want, Madison, you’ve got the wrong guy.”He lowers, dropping to his knees in front of me at the table. “I don’t want to disrespect you even a little.” He lowers his face until he’s between my thighs, lacing my sensitive skin with soft kisses. His voice is gravelly—a shot of whiskey to my stomach—when he says, “I want to worship you. Here on my knees, if that’s okay with you?”
I swallow, feeling nervous for the first time in years. But I manage to get the words out. “Yes . . . I want that.”
A grin.
A kiss on one thigh.
A kiss on the other to match.
And then he’s pulling my underwear aside, and his hot mouth presses there, where I’m dying. I fall back to my elbows, spineless as his tongue tastes and plays. So attentive. So loving.
“Beautiful,” he rasps. And I have never felt sexier, more in tune with and proud of my body. Turns out, this man makes me feel important not only in public but also while naked on a table.
I’m gasping for air when his hand slides up my body to cup one of my breasts, calluses on his palm rough against my nipple. Tides of pleasure threaten to break over me as he licks and sucks. But I don’t want to break apart yet. Selfishly, I want this to last forever. Never end.
“James,” I gasp. “Wait. I want—”
He lifts his head, moving his kisses to my thighs again as I struggle to speak. “Yes?”
“I want it with you.” I’m not making sense, but he knows what I mean anyway.
He rises to his feet, gets out his wallet, tugs a condom from it (wonderfully prepared), and tosses it beside my hips as he unzips and pushes his jeans off. I watch—leaned back, legs open—and oh my god, when his underwear is off and I finally see all of him, I fall in love all over again. He is . . . perfect.
Leaning up, I take him in my hand. His head falls back, throat bobbing on a rough groan. It’s a delicious sound. I return the tasting with a lick and a kiss—but a sample is all I get.
“Madison, I’ve waited for this so long. I won’t last,” he pleads and gently lays me back against the table.
He rips the foil.
Rolls it along his length.
Pulls my hips to the edge of the table, panties discarded.
Nudging against me, he asks, “Okay?”
My heart cracks open. Even in this—even when he knows I’m ready and wanting—he still asks.
“Yes. Now,” I beg.
The wood creaks below me as he pushes in slowly, and I cry out from ecstasy. He fills me completely, and nothing has ever felt so good. When we’re fully meeting—hips joined, my legs wrapped around his lower back—he looks down, looks atus,and I imagine that is what ultimate yearning looks like. He is gutted with pleasure.
“Fuck,” he grinds out as he moves again, in and out, so slowly I’m splitting apart at the seams. It’s overwhelming, being so intimate while in love. No one warned me it would feel like this.
So warm, I’m burning.
So loved, I’m screaming.
So free, I’m shaking.
I move my hips, but his fingers bite softly into my sides, pinning them to the table. His look is a warning. “I mean it—I will be done for in two seconds flat if you keep that up.”
But I’m turned on to a level I’ve never reached before, so I take that comment as a challenge.
Feeling powerful, I rock against his hands and his eyes roll shut.
“Madison,” he warns through gritted teeth.
I smile and rock again, but this time it hits me right where I want it most. A pulse of pleasure teases my core and I need more. Igrip his shoulders to bring him down to kiss me, but the angle isn’t right.
