His lips trail lower, across my chest, and when his mouth closes over my nipple, I arch into him with a gasp. His hands cup my breasts, and the sensation sends heat straight between my legs.
"Ross," I breathe.
"I've got you," he says against my skin.
His hands slide down my sides, thumbs hooking into the waistband of my jeans. He looks up at me, waiting.
I lift my hips in answer.
He pulls my jeans and underwear down in one smooth motion, leaving me bare before him.
Ross sits back on his heels, gaze roaming over my body with an intensity that makes me feel both vulnerable and worshipped.
"Lie back," he says.
I do, heart pounding.
He spreads my thighs gently, and the look on his face—hungry, focused, reverent—makes my breath stutter.
"I want to taste you first," he says.
I nod, unable to form words.
His mouth descends, and the first touch of his tongue makes me cry out. He's not tentative. He's deliberate, thorough, discovering exactly what makes me shake.
My hands fist in the bedspread, hips lifting toward him.
"That's it," he murmurs between strokes of his tongue. "Let me hear you."
The pressure builds impossibly fast. His tongue circles, flicks, sucks, and I'm falling apart, thighs trembling around his head.
"Ross, I'm—"
"I know," he says. "Let go."
The command sends me over the edge. Pleasure crashes through me in waves, and I'm gasping his name, body arching off the bed.
He doesn't stop until I'm boneless and trembling.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark with satisfaction.
"You taste incredible," he says.
I can't even respond. My brain is somewhere in the clouds.
Ross stands and starts unbuttoning his uniform shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the defined muscles of his stomach. When he unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants down, I see just how affected he is.
He'sbig. Thick and hard, and the sight of him makes my mouth go dry.
He catches my stare and smirks slightly. "Still okay?"
"Very okay," I manage.
He reaches for his wallet, pulling out a condom, and tears it open with his teeth.
He rolls it on, then climbs onto the bed, settling between my thighs. The weight of him is perfect, grounding.
He braces himself on his forearms, hovering just enough to keep from crushing me, eyes locked on mine.
