Those warm green eyes crinkle as she smiles again. “I can’t decide if having to hurry makes me more or less turned on.”
“You should come closer so that I may help you make that determination.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” She wiggles the curtains.
“Unless you’ve acquired a tattoo of a scary beast on your belly since I last glimpsed that marvelous part of your body, I’m positive I can handle anything you’re hiding behind that cloth.”
She hasn’t stopped smiling.
I haven’t either.
Though I’m also quite parched, rather achy in the balls, and eager for her to strip me of my clothing as she wishes.
She takes one step forward, the curtains gliding along her body, still covering her, but covering less of her.
Her belly comes into view. Her other breast. Second leg.
I attempt to swallow and find I’ve forgotten how.
“Were you wearing this the night of our first date?”
She closes the gap between us and runs her hands over my shoulders. “Define first date.”
My hands are drawn to her hips, and I’m helpless to resist caressing her soft skin and bare buttocks. “With the red dress.”
That smile.
Were I to perish in her smile, I would leave this earthly plane the happiest man to have ever died.
“I was wearing red panties”—she leans closer to me, her breasts brushing my chest, her lips hovering at my ear—“and no bra.”
“I’d like to remove this bra with my teeth.”
She shivers against me while her hands sneak under the hem of my T-shirt, her bare touch lighting my skin on fire.
“What else do you want to do with your teeth?” she asks as she pulls my shirt over my head.
“I should like to bite your inner thigh.”
Another shiver, this one carrying the heady scent of her arousal with it. Her fingers glide down my chest and abdomen as she presses a kiss to my neck. “Why does that turn me on?”
“Because you know I’d be rather good at it.”
Her hands reach my belt, and she makes quick work of undoing both the buckle and the button of my trousers beneath. “I didn’t want to hurry.”
“I’m content to hurry. The first time.” My lips find her lace-covered nipple, and I suck it into my mouth, enjoying her soft gasp of pleasure while also enjoying the glide of her hands inside my trousers.
She strokes my bare cock with those magical hands, not chilly, but not hot either, silky smooth against my shaft, and I lose her nipple for the groan of sheer ecstasy that I cannot hold back. “Bea?—”
“Do you know I’ve seen you shirtless four times, and this is the first time I get to touch you in the light?”
“I amwellaware I’ve not had the pleasure of your hands all over my body nearly enough, though that’s not what my shirt covers that you’re currently stroking.”
“I haven’t seen him yet either,” she whispers. “Is he pretty?”
“Beatrice—”
A dark-eyed, sparkly smile lights her face as she strokes me root to tip once more. “He feels pretty.”
