Here?
With Dylan?
It’s the most natural thing in the world to reach behind my neck and untie my top.
I let the two sides fall loose, baring my breasts, my belly still covered as he cups me gently and brushes his thumbs over my nipples. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.
I reach back again, this time letting my hair tie loose. “I can’t reach the zipper,” I lie.
His dimples pop out, that grin telling me he knows I caneasilyreach the zipper holding my shirt closed behind me. “The zipper on your shirt?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Then whatever”—he drops to one knee—“shall we do?”
I gasp as his lips close around the tip of my breast, one hand still fondling the other, his free hand now tracing my skin at the edge of my top as he searches out the zipper in question.
My clit is aching like it’s near exploding, and I want to touch myself.
But more, I want him to touch me.
He eases the zipper down, and my halter top falls away, leaving me exposed from the waist up.
He grabs another chocolate from the table, catches my gaze as he licks the outside, then rubs it across my nipple before suckling me back into his mouth.
“Oh God,” I whimper.
“Much better.”
I have one leg wrapped around his back, and if one of us doesn’t touch my clit soon, I will die.
Right here.
I swear I will. “My breast?”
“The chocolate.”
I fumble blindly behind myself for the nearest box and send them all skittering across the table as I get a handful. And then I’m off the table, pushing him to his back on the floor while I straddle him. “My turn.”
He props himself up on his elbows, watching while I rub my palms together, the chocolate between them, until my hands are coated in melted truffle.
“Green tea,” he says quietly.
I sniff, and then I catch it.
The subtle hints of grass and tea mixed in with the heady, rich chocolate. “Are you allergic?”
He chuckles softly. “No.”
“Would you rather a different flavor?”
“Tavi.”
“What?”
“I just want you.”
I look at my hands.
