Thomas’s lips find mine again, his hands caressing my hips, up to my breasts. He cups my breasts through my clothes. My body is experiencing sensation overload, and I needmore. I reach for him, sliding my hands under the hem of his shirt and tugging upward. Thomas helps, reaching behind his neck and yanking his shirt up and off of him.
He does the same with his shorts, leaving him in only his boxers. His blue eyes are dark as his gaze rakes over my still-clothed body. “Can I?” he softly asks, flicking his eyes to my shirt.
I frantically nod. His hands find my hips again, this time taking the hem of my top in between his fingers. A jolt of anxiety takes over. He’s going to see me naked.
There’s a brief moment of panic as he lifts my shirt over my head and throws it to the ground, but the absolutely hungry lust filled look in Thomas’s eyes erases the unease. He squeezes my ample hips, hands dragging up my sides and over my stomach until they reach my breasts.
He traces the edge of my bra, his fingertips smoothing over the roundness of my breast. Thomas bends down, taking my lips in his. For a long moment, that’s all it is. He kisses me, devours me. His lips move from mine down my jaw, my neck, my collarbones, until his face is buried between my tits. Thomas groans, his hand squeezing as he tears the bra down, releasing my tits from the fabric.
I gasp, my eyes flying shut in anticipation. I don’t know what comes next, but his mouth is covering the skin in kisses and licks until he’s sucking my pebbled nipple into his mouth, flicking with his tongue. “Thomas,” I cry, thesensation overloading me, sending heat shooting straight to my clit, which is thrumming with need. I never knew that it could feel this good. I’ve never liked playing with my breasts or my nipples when I’m on my own, but apparently when someone else does it, it drives me wild.
“Tell me, baby,” Thomas moans, switching to my other breast, repeating the motion while using his fingers to continue his teasing on the first one.
“It feels so good,” I groan.
He continues to suck and play with my tits until I can’t take it anymore, and I need something more to ease this building ache. Thomas must sense this, as he draws his hand down my body, flattening his palm over my belly. He slides his hand into my shorts, over my underwear, and the sensation is so mind-blowing that I don’t know what I’m going to do when he’s inside of me.
“Do you want this?” he asks, hesitating. My eyes fly open when he stops all movement. His blue eyes hold my own, and despite the lust and heat burning in them, I can see the clarity there, too. He will stop if I say so, if I need him to. I trust him.
“Yes, please,” I say, threading my hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and kissing him roughly.
His fingers push down on my waistband, and I help him shimmy them off, leaving me in only my underwear and bra. I always thought that at this moment, I would be panicking, that I would be scared of what he thought of my body, but I’m not. I can see the heat in his eyes, can see the way he’s looking at me, and it makes me feel incredible. His gaze traces down my body slowly, like he’s appreciating every inch, every curve and roll I have. It makes heat burst in my core, and I feel more treasured than I ever have. He’scalled me beautiful since the day we went on our first date, but the look in his eyes shows me how much he means it.
“We’ll start slow,” Thomas promises, and even though I want it so badly, I’m grateful.
“Thank you,” I murmur, kissing him again.
Thomas’s fingers tease the edge of my underwear, and I let out a shuddering breath. His fingers slide underneath, and his skin meets mine. My body tenses in anticipation, and when they find the wetness between my folds, Thomas groans loudly.
“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” he murmurs. “So perfect for me. So beautiful.”
The words of praise send a shiver through my body. “Thomas, I need more,” I breathe, clutching at his shoulder blades.
His fingers trace and circle as he finds my clit. When he does, he puts the softest pressure on it, rubbing in a circular motion. “Oh, god,” I breathe. This feels so different than when I do it myself or when I use my toys. It feels ten times better.
Thomas replaces his pointer finger with his thumb, while the long finger moves downward to my entrance. He circles the wetness there, looking at me for permission. I nod, and he slides his finger inside me slowly, as if he’s afraid he’ll hurt me.
“God, you’re tight,” he says, the words coming out strained. He adjusts his hips, and I shift one of my legs up and hooking around his waist, opening myself to him.
The intrusion of his finger inside me is welcome, and so good. He hooks the finger, curling it against a spot that I’ve never been able to find myself. “Thomas!” I wail as he adds a second finger, stretching me in a way I’ve neverexperienced. He pumps his fingers in and out, my wetness easing the slight ache to this new feeling.
My clit pulses as he circles it with his thumb, the dual sensation sending me up and up toward a climax I never expected. Only, I can’t get there. I’m searching for it, needing something more to fall over the edge, but I can’t get there. This happens sometimes when I’m at home with my vibrator, and I usually give up. My stupid anti-depressants and getting in my own head can make it so hard for me to come sometimes.
I grind my hips against his hand, but it’s not helping. I’m overthinking it now. Is it taking too long? Is his hand tired? Now I’m thinking about the sounds I’ve made. Does he like them? Or does he think they’re weird?
I’ve ruined this.
All the earlier anticipation and build-up is gone, and I don’t know what to do. Thomas takes his other hand, caressing my body in a way that two minutes ago felt amazing, but now all I can think about is how bored he must be. My eyes are shut, and I furrow my brow. Clenching down on his fingers, I let out a forced cry as I fake my orgasm. I need to be done with this embarrassing moment, so I breathe heavily, make all the convincing noises and don’tdareopen my eyes.
33
THOMAS
She’s faking it.
She was enjoying it. I could tell. The cries falling from her beautiful lips were about to make me come in my pants yet again, but then, something changed. She tenses, her body freezing as her cries turn into a fake sound that I never want to hear again.
She’s breathing heavily, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she pretends to orgasm. I know she was close, I could feel it, could tell with the sounds she was making, but what caused her to freeze up?
