“I don’t—” She tried to swallow down her nerves and her inadequacies, the whispered words that had settled so deep in her mind, it was as if they’d always been there. “I’m not sure…”
He sat back on his knees and fingered the hem of her T-shirt. “Can I take this off?”
She darted her eyes to the lights surrounding them, casting what was no doubt an unflattering glow over every inch of her. Reaching backward and arching against the couch, she fumbled toward the lamp, trying to get to the knob. “Can we just…”
Nash caught her hand before she could turn off the light and moved it down to rest once again against where he was so thick behind his zipper. “I’m not this hard because of a breeze, princess. I’m this hard because it’syouunder me. If it’ll get you out of your head long enough to come against my tongue, then we can shut off the lights.” He brushed his fingertips over her stomach, against the waistband of her leggings, a featherlight touch designed to drive her wild. “But I’ve been fantasizing about this for ten years, and I’d really,reallylike to see every inch of you.”
She relaxed back onto the couch, her mind whirring with everything he’d said. First of all, histongue? She’d never had someone’s mouth on her, and her clit thrummed harder at the thought. Second,ten years? What in the—
But then Nash was sliding his hand along her side, under her shirt, and all thought promptly left her head. He stopped just below the swell of her breasts, and she held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She’d thought she’d feel apprehension at this point. Some kind of bone-deep hesitation at letting him touch one of her most intimate parts. Instead, she desperately wanted him tomove. To cup her breasts and run his thumb over her nipples. Wanted his mouth on them, too.
She wasn’t comfortable enough yet to voice those thoughts, so instead, she arched against him and brought one of her hands to his upper arm. She wrapped her fingers around his biceps, squeezing and pulling and hoping with everything in her that he got the silent message she sent.
With a groan, he lifted his hand, and then that rough, callused palm caressed her breast, lifting the weight of it and giving it a gentle squeeze. He dropped down, resting his forehead on the spot where her neck met her shoulder, his harsh breaths against her skin a constant reminder that he was as affected as her.
As much as she wanted to see his face, to watch him as he felt her, this was easier. Baby steps. She couldn’t very well be expected to go from a nun-like sexual status to a no-inhibitions porn star in the span of a single day. And he’d somehow realized it without her even having to say a word.
“Been dreaming about these perfect little tits too.Fuck.” He cupped her breast with one hand and moved the other under her, gripping her ass and tugging her up.
The move had her balancing on her shoulders against the couch, their lower bodies grinding against each other, and it’d never before been like this. Never, in all her years, had she experienced anything like this. Not just the dirty talk—which, yeah, she’ddefinitelynever encountered before, but if her throbbing clit was any indication, she was a fan—but all of it. His hands and his mouth and his words.Thiswas foreplay. This was exactly what she read about in the romance books she kept in the drawer of her bedside table. This was what sex was supposed to be, and they hadn’t evengottento the sex yet.
An ache built in her chest, a tightness in her throat over all she’d missed in the years she’d settled for lousy sex with an even lousier partner.
She wassodone. So completely done. Ready to shed that part of her life and never, ever look back.
Apprehension still flickered at the corners of her mind, but she ignored it and listened to the new voice in her head. The one that said she deserved this, and it was about damn time she got it.
“I want to see you.” With hungry fingers, she tugged up the back of Nash’s shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers.
He was too focused on her body to reach back and tug it off, so she did it for him, pulling and pulling and pulling until he made a frustrated noise in his throat and separated from her just long enough to yank it off and toss it to the side. Then he did the same to hers, sweeping the thin, worn shirt up and off her until she was bare beneath him, her tiny breasts and silvery wisps of stretch marks spider-webbing out from the waistband of her leggings on full display.
But before she could panic, before those worries and nerves could consume her, he said, “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” And then he descended on her with a groan, his mouth going straight to her breasts, his tongue circling her tight nipples.
On a gasp, she arched into him, wrapping her hand around the back of his head and holding him to her. He flicked and sucked and tugged, and the thrum between her legs only grew more pronounced, more insistent. She needed… Needed… She didn’t know, but she hoped like hell he did. Friction, suction, pressure, more, more, more.
And she couldn’t wait for him to give it to her.
Nash had died and gone to heaven. That was the only explanation for the angel lying beneath him on the couch, her nipple in his mouth and her whimpers in his ear. Christ, what had he done in his life to deserve this? She was his every teenage fantasy come to life, and he was just grateful this happened after he knew what to do with a woman like her.
And Rory? She was going to come before the night was through. Even if he had to spend two hours between her legs, even if his tongue cramped and his jaw locked, he wasn’t leaving her pussy until he felt it pulse around him.
When she was a squirming, incoherent pile of limbs beneath him and her breasts were pink from his stubble, her nipples glistening from his mouth, he slid down the length of her body. Pressed a kiss to the under-curve of her breast, licked a circle around her belly button, brushed his stubbled chin back and forth against her lower stomach as he tugged the leggings from her body.
Initially, she’d been a tight bundle of anxiety, but he couldn’t find an ounce of it still remaining. She didn’t hesitate or stiffen as he divested her of her last articles of clothing, her panties going over his shoulder the way of her leggings. And then she was spread out before him, a centerfold come to life. He gripped her lush hips, digging his fingers into the soft flesh before bringing his hands together between her legs, his thumbs sweeping over her pussy. She was soft and smooth and glistening, and he needed to put his tongue on all that pink.
With a groan, he slid off the couch, kneeling next to it and tugging her ass to the edge. He pressed his palms to her inner thighs and spread her legs wide for him.
She shifted, her hands fluttering around her as if she didn’t quite know what to do with them. “Nash, I’m—”
“Fucking gorgeous here too.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her left thigh and then her right, smiling against her skin when he found a strawberry-shaped birthmark there. He traced around it with his tongue, his cock positively throbbing at the sound of her whimper.
Her pussy was wet—drenched—and he couldn’t wait another second to taste it. With his thumbs, he pulled her apart and gave a long lick up the length of her slit, swirling his tongue around her clit before swiping back down again.
“Oh myword,” Rory breathed, her hand snapping to the back of his head as if she were afraid he was thinking about leaving.
He smiled against her clit, brushing his lower lip back and forth across the swollen bud. “I’m gonna have you screamin’ ‘fuck’ before this night is through.”
“You’ll do no such—”
