I’m startled by the sheer weight and heat of him. The soft, velvety skin over unyielding steel. I can't fit my fingers around him, but I squeeze firmly what I can grasp, savoring the way he twitches under my touch, the way his breathing becomes sharper above me.
Yes, I’ve tasted him before, had him in my mouth and on my tongue, but after what I just confessed, he somehow feels even larger.
I pump him slowly, watching as his composure cracks. His eyes stay locked on mine, dark and full of hunger, but his mouth slacks and his breathing changes.
He shuts his eyes takes a deep inhale and then suddenly, he’s rolling me onto my back, hovering over top of me before one hand gently comes up to cup my face.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says. I stroke him in my palm all the way to the base then back to the tip.
“Okay,” I whisper.
My fingers run along the sides of him, tracing the veins down to his sack that I cup gently. And then his mouth is on mine.
It feels like I’m coming up for air after being trapped under the icy lake.
His lips part mine instantly, his tongue demands entrance and when he drags it across mine, showing me how I know he’ll fuck me tonight, my mind goes blank.
No one prepares you for a kiss that changes every kiss you’ve had before. No one teaches you that not all kisses are the same. That something as intimate as kissing the person you trust with your body,with your life,can feel more like devotion than sex.
I lose my grip on him, forgetting what’s happening, but his hand is already there, guiding mine back to take him in my fist. Together, we find a new rhythm, my hand pumping him as he thrusts into my grip with a groan.
“Don’t ever,” he growls, pulling back just enough to speak, his voice raw and full of unspoken emotion, eyes studying my every feature. Then his mouth moves to my neck, where he sucks hard enough to leave a mark before grazing his teeth against the tender skin and soothing the scrape of his touch with his tongue. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Rosie. I can’t…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but I feel the weight of the words he’s holding back, the ones we’re both too afraid to say. Words that would change everything. Words that mean we can’t imagine life without each other.
The thought terrifies me as much as it exhilarates me, so I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him back down to me, kissing him deeply, pouring everything I can’t say into that kiss. Everythingwecan't say.
My hands slide into his hair, gripping tightly as his arms lock around my hips, pulling me flush against him and holding me there.
I’m still naked and the blankets are long forgotten. I press my skin against his, feeling the burn of there finally being nothing between us.
I wrap my legs around his hips, digging my heels into the strong muscles of his lower back, coaxing the tip of his cock into my opening. His slick tip slides across my pussy and up to my clit.
It feels incredible. I let out a soft moan and do it again.
This time his wide crown breaks just past my opening. He freezes, lets out a growl and reaches behind his back to unlock my heels before shaking his head at me.
“You’ll get me tonight,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rasp. “But first, this pussy is mine to taste. Mine to pay penance to.”
Before I can respond, he moves downward. His beard brushes across my breasts, his tongue laps at my nipples until he settles himself between my legs, pausing just inches from where I’m aching for him.
He takes in a deep breath, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.
“You smell like flowers,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with awe. “I don’t know how that’s possible after being submerged in a frozen lake, but I fucking love it. Youalwayssmell like roses.”
Then his tongue drags over me sloppily, from my opening to my clit. The first flick is firm, sending a jolt of electricity through me, and when he taps it twice more with the pointed tip of his warm tongue, he looks up and grins.
"Boone," I moan. “I need more.”
“Hold on, sweetheart,” he says, his grip tightening on my thighs as he spreads me wider. “I’m just getting started.”
And then he devours me.
Boone eats pussy like it’s his life’s work. Every lick, nip, and suck executed with the precision of a guy who moves his body for a living. It’s intense, almost overwhelming, as if he’s determined to unravel me piece by piece. His tongue is relentless, his hands firm as they hold me exactly where he wants me.
The man doesn’t do anything halfway, and this is no exception.
“Mine,” he growls biting down on the inside of one of my thighs, hard enough to hurt but good enough to have my legs shaking around his head.
